The next morning, I woke up and went to my yoga class, per routine. As I left the studio and made my way to Backroads Coffee, I found myself looking for that suit. And, as I suspected, he was already there, paying for his coffee.

I got behind him, hoping he wouldn't notice me.

But, alas, when do we ever get something we want, especially something as trivial as not being noticed but someone we are actively trying to avoid.

"Sarah?"

I fought back the urge to let out a frustrated groan.

"Hotch! Hi, it's good to see you again. How did the game go?" I said, trying to make some small talk while I waited for Jen to finish making his coffee.

"Well, they don't keep score at Jack's age, but if they did, we would've won. Needless to say, the boys were very excited," he said, a chuckle escaping.

"That's good."

We stood in silence, and I didn't know if I should say something. Just as I was about to ask another needless question, Hotch asked me one first.

"So, do you come here often?"

"Here? Oh, um, yeah. Every morning. It's one of the first places I found when I moved here."

"How long have you been here?"

"About three years now," I said, wondering what was taking Jen so long. I didn't need Hotch asking too many questions.

"Where'd you move from?" he asked. It was an innocent question, but I felt myself freeze up as my brain searched for the information listed on the sheet that was tucked away in my apartment's safe.

"Western part of Montana. Small town called Whitefish. You probably haven't heard of it."

"How'd you find yourself here?"

"I just… needed a change of scenery, I guess?" I never had an official reason, so I always pulled this one if anyone asked.

"Aaron? Your coffee is ready!" came Jen's voice. I let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Nice to see you again Sarah. See you around." And with that, Hotch began to leave.

"Yeah… see you around…" I murmured. It seemed no matter how hard I tried, there was no getting rid of Aaron Hotchner.

As he left, I couldn't help but feel his eyes on me.

What if he knew something?

Something he shouldn't?

"The regular?" Jen asked, interrupting my train of thought.

"Yeah… the regular…" I said, handing her the money and feeling more exposed than I had in years.

The next few weeks continued like this, with Hotch and I making small talk every day. I slowly resigned myself to the idea of having another friend, even if he was over a decade older than me.

"So wait, you work with the FBI?" I asked one morning as I sat waiting for my coffee.

"With the Behavioral Analysis Unit," he said, sipping his coffee as he sat down with me.

"Sounds intense."

"That's one way to put it…"

"So what exactly do you do? Catch pyschos?"

"We analyze criminal behavior and create a profile to help local police force catch the criminal… so, yes, kind of."

"Sounds much more interesting than my desk job," I said, smiling.

"Secretary at the PR firm, right?"

"Yep."

"Enjoy it?"

"The work and people are boring, but it pays the bills, so I guess I can't complain.

"So I take it that you don't have many friends through work?"

"Not really, no… Haven't had a ton of opportunities to make too many acquaintances," I said, hoping he wouldn't dig any further.

Luckily, I was saved.

"Sarah? Your coffee is ready!" came Jen's voice.

"Thanks," I said, getting up to grab my drink.

"It was nice to see you again," I said, gathering my bag, "But I should let you get to work."

"You too," he said. He offered his hand for a handshake, and I obliged.

"See you around," I said heading the door of the shop.

"Wait, Sarah," he said, just as I had opened the door.

"Yeah?"

"You remember Rossi? You met him at the park before Jack's game?"

"Yeah?" I asked, confused as to where this was going,

"He's inviting a bunch of coworkers over for dinner tonight, and you said you didn't know a bunch of people, so if you want, I'm sure Rossi would be more than happy to have you over as well."

I felt my gut tighten. More people? That seemed problematic.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude," I said, but Hotch waved his hand saying, "It's no problem, I'm sure."

I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea. But there was something friendly about Hotch. He reminded me of the older brother that I had often craved when I was younger. Besides, my dinner plans were likely the leftovers I had in my fridge.

"You know what? I'd love to, as long as Rossi is fine with me coming. Is there an address?"

"Yeah," Hotch said, "One second."

He gave me the address, which I realized I would be Ubering to, and his phone number in case I got lost or needed anything.

"Ok, I'll see you tonight? Around 8:30?" I asked.

"Sounds good," Hotch said, "See you then."

We said our good byes as I made my way my apartment. I hoped it would be nice to meet some more people. Besides, I had been here for almost three years. The investigation showed no chance of ending, so I might as well have some roots here.

I just had to be careful not to get too attached here.

Afterall, this was all a lie.