ELI

There was no reason to pause in the hallway.

I had my trash. I had my headphones. I had already hit play on a podcast I wasn’t listening to.

But I paused anyway—because there she was.

Blonde. Confident. Wearing a vintage tee of Cass’s favorite band like it wasn’t a big deal.

I stopped walking. We made conversation for a bit while I helped her with one of her trash bags.

“That’s actually my best friend’s favorite band,” I said, gesturing to her shirt when we finally left the garbage room.

Cool. Casual. Not at all weird.

She turned. Smiled. Not coy—sharp. “Maybe you should introduce us, then.”

Direct. I liked that.

I laughed. “You always this forward?”

“Only when I don’t want to waste time,” she said, when we got to her floor

Something about her presence—it wasn’t just the look. It was the way she looked at you. Straight on. Measured. Like she was taking inventory and already deciding whether you were worth the follow-up question.

Cass would eat that up.

Which was... interesting.

Because Cass usually went for soft. Smiley. Big eyes and small voices. Blondes, always, but never like this one.

She was the opposite of his usual disaster lineup.

And that’s exactly why I didn’t want her to leave.

“Hey, uh—“Want to come up for a drink?” I nodded toward the stairs, fumbling for charm like I hadn’t had a practice run in a while. “Totally safe. Just neighbors. No pressure. But I’ve got a weird idea I want to run by you.”

She tilted her head. “That the line you usually go with?”

“Only when I don’t want to waste time.”

***

My apartment wasn’t spotless, but it passed the “I didn’t know you were coming” test.

I handed her a glass of Malbec and flopped onto the armchair. She stayed standing a beat longer—assessing. Then sat on the edge of the couch, back straight, glass barely sipped.

“You said you had an idea?”

Right. The pitch.

“So here’s the deal,” I began. “My best friend Cass—he’s the guy whose favourite band tee you’re wearing—he made a bet.”

“Mm-hmm.” No expression, but she was listening. Closely.

“If he falls in love within a year, he owes me a favor. If he doesn’t, he gets my Porsche.”

She blinked. “You bet your car on your friend’s ability to fall in love?”

“It sounds dumber when you say it out loud.”

“It is dumb,” she said, but there was the faintest curl of a grin.

“Agreed. But here’s the thing—Cass is emotionally constipated. Or allergic. One of the two. Either way, he only responds to what he can’t have. If I introduce you as a possible date? He’ll think I’m meddling and shut it down immediately.”

“So what do you suggest?” she asked, leaning back now. Just enough to signal she wasn’t leaving yet.

“You be my date. Then we run into him. Natural, no pressure. He’ll be curious. Interested. Competitive. And maybe, maybe, interested enough to stick.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little... scummy? Stealing your best friend’s girl?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You want to know how we met?”

“Well now I do.”

“We were in college. He said his first hello to me while riding a girl I was casually dating in her dorm room.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Yep. To be fair, he didn’t know she was my girl. But I’m not sure it would’ve stopped him anyway. Cass was being Cass.”

“What happened after that?”

“I gave him the beating of his life.”

She snorted. “Obviously.”

“But a few months later, he started dating—properly this time—another one of my ex’s roommate. So every morning, we’d awkwardly pass each other on our way out of their dorm room, never saying a word. Until one day, I invited him to play FIFA. Broke the ice. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“That’s a... wild friendship origin story.”

“You think that’s wild? Wait until you hear about the time we got fake-married in Vegas for content.”

Kara chuckled, shaking her head. “So, what happened to his college girlfriend?”

I hesitated. Took a longer sip.

“They broke up after three months. No one really knows why. But it’s the longest relationship Cass has ever been in. I suspect it’s the only time he’s ever been in love... but he won’t admit it.”

And then I really looked at her.

Same confidence. Same razor-edged wit. That ability to walk into a room and shift the temperature.

It was uncanny.

Cass’s college ex had been just like this.

I’d never met someone who matched the blueprint so precisely.

And maybe that’s what he needed. A reset. A mirror. A challenge.

She met my eyes. Steady. Still.

“Well,” she said, finishing her wine. “Let’s run into him, then.”