He was… off. Or at least playing at it. Not completely-off-his-rocker-off, but something about him changed after the alleged end of the alleged relationship. Tom became reckless and, frankly, dangerous. He was a menace to himself: Arriving at events and roaming through airports without security, going on runs alone in the park two blocks off Hollywood Boulevard where the paps could easily bombard him. Did he not know how famous his name was now? Thank God the man at least had the brains to visit a small, anonymous coffee shop instead of some wild, star-studded chain for his post-workout coffee.

The shop buzzed with steady business, the cozy ambience occasionally accented by the laughter of giggling friends or the clink of glass. Ellie sat at a table alone. Happily alone. She leaned forward and stared at her laptop screen. Her long blonde hair slid forward, untucked from behind her ears and slipping around her face to act as blinders to keep from having to make eye contact with the errant stranger. Though her periphery was thoroughly blocked, she'd made the mildly unwise decision to sit facing the front door of the shop. So much for no interruptions. Idly she thought about turning, but decided she couldn't be bothered. Briefly looking away from her computer to take a sip of tea, she caught sight of a tall, slender man entering the shop. Her eyes grew wide upon recognizing him.

Immediately his blue gaze roamed the space, making pointed eye contact with every female in the vicinity. Rather than modestly keeping his head down and ordering his drink, Tom freely offered aggrieved smiles accented with casual winks to all the women in the store as he played at being the sensitive, healing, ex-boyfriend. What had happened to him? He was being so unTommish.

Just after he placed his order and paid, making sure to tip the barista generously and with a seductive grin, his gaze flicked over several swooning females to whom granted smiles, before falling on Ellie. The girl stiffened in her chair, pausing to think for a moment before she made an executive decision. She would not reward his poor and careless behavior over the summer, despite being a fan. She glared and gave a sharp shake of her head in an attempt to discourage his attentions. If he decided to be wild and beguiling, that was fine, but she was going to need to reevaluate her loyalty to him. Ellie got a slight kick out of Tom looking somewhat taken aback at her declination to return his smile. However, he recovered quickly and his confusion morphed into a Classic Tom Grin. Her resistance, apparently, only furthered his interest in the blonde girl sitting alone. As his long strides quickly closed the distance between them, Tom smirked, almost as if he were daring her to refuse his approach. Big, strong hands gripped the back of the chair opposite of where she sat and he casually crossed one foot over the other. He watched her for a moment before speaking.

"What's wrong, darling?"

She stared blankly at him. As an appreciator of his work, Ellie was mildly star struck,

despite her irritation with his behavior. However, his being Tom Hiddleston did not let him off the hook for a) Dating someone with a rocky history of short romantic stints that often ended in b) Writing songs based on her past relationships ending badly and c) Rushing into things so quickly with her. Ellie did not approve nor appreciate his antics.

"Don't look so sour. Give me a smile?"

That disgustingly beautiful British accent was wrapped in a candy coating of smooth baritone. How dare he use that on her? Of course she'd know better than to succumb to that. She glowered. Enough was enough. Ellie couldn't watch him make a fool of himself any longer. Yeah, breakups sucked. But come on. Be an adult. Be Prince Charming Tom, not an attention-seeking playboy.

"I am not interested in speaking with you, Thomas," she snapped quietly, quickly

returning her gaze to her computer screen.

He had the audacity to laugh.

"Thomas? Am I in trouble?"

She took a deep breath, eyes narrowing. Thor: Ragnarök hadn't finished filming. Of course he was in trouble. He was being unnecessarily risky and she needed him around and functional to film a movie where Loki didn't fake his own death at the end, thank you very much. Is a happy ending too much to ask for, Marvel? She couldn't help but go off on him. Just a little bit. She leaned forward, keeping her voice low.

"Yes, you are. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into this summer, and if you didn't, you should've asked someone, because they would've told you. And now you're traipsing around Los Angeles with no concern for your own safety. Get it together."

His cocky grin faltered briefly, and he took a step back before his smile slowly returned as he rose to the challenge. When the barista called his name—his first. Fucking. Name. As if he had a death-by-fan-stampede wish—he retrieved his coffee and casually meandered back through the tables and helped himself to the empty seat at hers. He looked at her intently.

His stare was completely disarming and he knew it. She could see him smirking around the lid of his cup as he sipped. Anxiously she tapped her foot, flexed her fingers and reluctantly closed her computer, abandoning her assignment. Clearly her productivity was about to tank. Ellie glanced back at his face. He smiled pleasantly, reaching forward to gently rest his hand on hers. Her eyes widened in slight horror at the casually affectionate act. The fact that he was so calm only made her more nervous. It was almost as if he were too soothing with his kind smiles and composed demeanor. Damn. What she wouldn't give to see him lose control.

Smiling confidently, he set his drink back on the table and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

"May I ask your name?"

She couldn't just be outright rude. She wanted to be, because telling him her name was only going to encourage whatever fickle, Post-Taylor attentions he was bestowing upon her, but… it was Tom and he was such a fucking gentleman. Even when he wasn't.

"Ellie," she muttered, wildly uncomfortable.

It was one thing to binge on YouTube videos of him doing velociraptor impersonations, or even to catch a glimpse of him in public. It was something completely different to have him staring at her as if they were two normal people engaging in a nonchalant conversation at some no name bistro.

"Ellie. That's pretty. Short for?"

"Michelle."

"Lovely."

His voice alone oozed praise, combine that with the actual complement and she was dizzy. Ellie tightened her fingers around her cup. As he looked at her expectantly, it became evident that he wasn't leaving. She sighed. The buzz he generated upon entering the shop had died down and only a few fans remained star struck with their phones out, wildly taking pictures. Awkwardly she covered the side of her face with her hand, attempting to shield herself from the amateur paps.

"You go by Tom, I assume?"

He grinned.

"I do."

"Okay, Tom. Would you please leave my table?"

He didn't quite throw his head back and laugh, but it was close. There was definitely a tilt to his neck as he chuckled.

"Now, that's not very polite."

She couldn't handle it. His proximity was beginning to make breathing more difficult and his undivided attention was completely unsettling. Ellie huffed and rose, stuffing her laptop into her bag and grabbing tea to relocate. Gently, as to not cause her to spill her drink, Tom caught her elbow.

"I'm sorry. I'm teasing. Please, stay for a chat?"

She hesitated, glancing fleetingly between his seemingly earnest expression and her now empty chair.

"Why?"

Tom studied her, his thin lips curving into that awful, genuine, charming smile.

"Sit, please."

After pursing her lips for a moment, Ellie shook her head. If he couldn't come up with a viable reason for her to stay, she assumed he just wanted attention. Hers, specifically, because she wasn't yet fawning over him as everyone else in the shop would have. This was too weird and way too uncomfortable. It was time to leave.

"No, I'm sorry."

She turned and dashed to the door, juggling her cup as she squirmed into her coat.

x

The next morning, Ellie returned to the same small shop kitty corner to her apartment to work on a paper. After getting her tea, she set up shop at the exact same table, this time as a defensive measure to monitor incoming traffic, which could include Tom. Breaking her stare at the door, she gazed pensively into her drink. Never meet your idols, right? Well, in all fairness, she didn't idolize the man. She just wanted his bod in the worst way possible. That, and she admired the crap out of him.

Ellie sighed and stirred her tea. She adored Tom. Her mild infatuation hadn't been a lengthy one, but as infatuations tended to go, it was intense. How could one not become instantly taken with the man? He was heartbreakingly good looking, British (which, as an American, was practically a Get-Me-in-Bed-Free card), a gentleman, a freaking scholar, and a humanitarian. Oh, and he acted, too. He was just overall wonderful and ridiculously talented.

Meeting him the day prior had been surreal. He was different than she expected. Aside

from his blatant desire for attention which, to her knowledge, was unlike him, his charm was tenfold, making him very difficult to deny. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to leave him.

With a groan she scrubbed her face. She supposed she probably shouldn't have been so rude. He just made her uncomfortable. He was a celebrity, for one thing. And then the whole weirdness over the summer had shaken her, like she wasn't quite sure she knew who he was anymore. Intellectually, the girl knew she didn't know him to begin with, but she was attached to his charismatic, humble-despite-massive-accolades public image. He was the perfect gentleman in every way.

Ellie fought the urge to glance up every time the bell attached to the front door rang. What if he came back today? Did she even want to see him again? No, she didn't. She really should leave. She was tempting fate by showing up at the same time and place she'd seen him yesterday. It was time to go. Taking one last sip of her tea, she rose, abandoning her homework assignment for the second day in a row and dumped the cup as she made her way to the exit.

Halfway across the crosswalk to building, a hand firmly gripped her elbow. The girl gasped, wheeling and digging for her Mace keychain. Her "attacker's" hands flew in the air in surrender as he quickly realized his mistake.

"Ellie," Tom smiled, decked out in his running gear. "I apologize. I didn't intend to startle you."

Chest heaving and pulse pounding, she glared. She'd almost temporarily blinded him!

"I almost Mace'd you, you idi—Ugh!"

He chuckled shrugged guiltily.

"I saw you and just wanted to say hello."

She squinted at him, then raised a brow questioningly.

"Why?"

Looking genuinely confused, Tom shook his head.

"What do you mean?"

Her annoyed huff was interrupted as a car honked at the pair, who were still standing in the middle of the street. Tom gently rested his hand on her lower back and guided her to the sidewalk. Despite her fluttering heart, she squirmed out of his grasp and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why bother stopping some random girl who barely qualifies as an acquaintance to greet her on the street? There are a plethora of other women in this city."

He nodded in thought, licking his lower lip.

"Well, you have a point."

Of course he agreed with her. Even when she was passively telling him to get lost. Such a Tom thing to do. He continued.

"I suppose you intrigued me yesterday. It's not often I ask a woman to stay and she leaves."

"Unless her name is Taylor," Ellie snorted. Within nanoseconds her eyes widened in horror as she realized what she'd said aloud. She clapped her hand over her mouth, cheeks blooming bright red.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that," she blathered from beneath her palm.

Tom's mouth formed a thin line. Never had she felt like such an ass. He paused for a moment, looking her over, this time slowly, appraisingly. He brushed his lips with a fingertip.

"I'll forgive you."

Her giant sigh of relief was interrupted by a faint gleam in his eye. She sighed in resignation, uncertain that she really wanted to know more. She cocked a brow.

"If?"

"Have dinner with me."

Ellie recoiled in shock, taking a step away from him. Shaking her head in disbelief, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. This was too cliché.

"After I've just offended you?"

He nodded with a smug smile, leaning casually against a newspaper stand as he watched her.

"I feel like I'm in "Pretty Woman" or something," she muttered.

Tom, bless his heart, baulked.

"Are you—I didn't realize—you're an escort?"

Ellie blanched and looked down at her romper and flats. Was she supposed to be flattered? She adamantly shook her head.

"No! I just meant this is like some weird fairy tale fantasy… being swept off my feet by an inhumanly perfect prince. I'm a fan of yours, you should be weirded out, not asking me to dinner."

He grinned, causing her cheeks to heat.

"An inhumanly perfect prince?"

He completely ignored the part of her statement that was supposed to make him lose interest. There was no way going on an… apology date? with a fan couldn't be weird for him. Her eyes flicked back to his. He was staring at her intently. Oh yeah, she'd just referred to him as a prince. Ellie made a face. She supposed she set herself up for that one. He cleared his throat.

"I find you intriguing. Humor me, darling?"

Her jaw almost dropped. Oh no he didn't. Yep, he definitely did. How dare he whip out such an endearment, his equivalent to a weapon of mass destruction?

"Fine," she grumbled, avoiding his gaze and scuffing her shoe against the cement sidewalk.

He flashed another Classic Tom Grin.

"Wonderful. Do you live around here?"

She pointed at the building on the corner nearest to them.

"I'll see you tonight at seven, then."

Nervously drumming her fingers against her thigh, Ellie reluctantly nodded.

"Um, what should I wear?"

He surprised her when he took a step back, his eyes raking heatedly over her body and lingering on her face breasts and hips, all the way down to her feet.

Tom took two steps forward, completely invading her space and causing her to stumble backwards. He grinned and lightly stroked a hand over her hip.

"Something that shows off your legs."

As she stood there gaping, he grinned and jogged backwards a few steps.

"I'll see you at seven."

He turned and trotted off, leaving the poor girl alone and bewildered on the sidewalk.