Maya woke up to the sound of a delivery truck backing into the alley behind her apartment. It wasn’t a gentle sound. It was the kind that rattled her window and threatened to start her day before she was ready for it.

She buried her face in the pillow for a few seconds, letting herself pretend she had slept more than five hours. Working the Friday shift always meant a slow, painful Saturday morning. Her body felt like someone had unplugged half her energy and replaced it with leftover tequila fumes.

She finally rolled out of bed, feet landing on the cool floor. Her studio apartment looked exactly the same as last night: string lights she forgot to turn off, two socks that didn’t match, and a sticky note on the wall that said “Buy coffee!!” in her own handwriting.

She had forgotten to buy coffee.

“Great,” she muttered.

She pulled on a hoodie and left the apartment with her hair in a messy knot. The air outside was crisp, cooler than usual, and the city sounded different during the morning—slower, confused, like it wasn’t sure if it wanted to wake up yet.

The small convenience store on the corner was already open. Maya stepped inside, rubbing her eyes. She made a beeline for the coffee fridge, grabbed a cold brew, then reached for a pack of breakfast sandwiches that promised nothing but calories.

When she turned toward the counter, she froze.

Evan Sterling stood there.

He wasn’t wearing the same clothes from last night. Today he had on a simple navy jacket, black T-shirt, and jeans. His hair was slightly damp, like he had just showered. He looked awake. Too awake.

He noticed her at the same time.

“Maya,” he said, surprised but obviously entertained. “So you exist during the day.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered before she could stop herself. “Why are you everywhere?”

“I’m buying toothpaste,” he said, holding up the box. “Is that allowed?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look like someone who shops here.”

“I didn’t realize convenience stores had a dress code.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He smiled, and she hated that her stomach flipped like she had tripped down a step.

“How’s the arm?” he asked. “You almost went flying last night.”

“I didn’t. That’s the point.”

“True. Impressive reflexes.”

“They’re survival skills.”

He nodded like he understood perfectly. “So… cold brew for breakfast?”

“It’s coffee. It counts.”

“Barely.”

She pointed at his toothpaste. “You’re not judging my breakfast while buying mint for your face.”

“That’s not how toothpaste works.”

“Still.”

The cashier cleared his throat, reminding them they were holding up the line. Maya stepped forward, cheeks warm, and paid for her things. Evan waited behind her without rushing her, which somehow made her more nervous.

When she finished, she turned toward the door, planning to escape the entire situation—

And walked straight into him again.

He caught her shoulders before she stumbled.

“You really do need a rearview mirror,” he said.

“Stop being behind me!”

“I walked forward. You turned around.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.”

She stared at him, unsure whether she wanted to punch him or laugh. Maybe both.

He stepped aside so she could pass, but he didn’t leave. He followed her out of the store, not close enough to seem strange, but close enough that she could feel his presence.

“You heading somewhere?” he asked.

“I’m going home.”

“With cold brew and a breakfast sandwich?”

“Yes. Why? Are you gonna judge that too?”

“No,” he said. “I was going to say it sounds like an excellent plan.”

She paused. “Don’t be nice.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust it.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, amused.

“Fair enough.”

They reached the corner where their paths naturally separated. Maya expected him to wave and move on. Instead, he looked at her like he wanted to say something else but hadn’t figured out what.

“See you around?” he asked.

“You shouldn’t. The universe should stop doing that.”

“It probably won’t.”

She turned away before he could see her smile.

Maya took the long way back to her apartment, mostly to give herself time to calm down. Running into Evan once had been strange. Running into him twice felt like the city was messing with her on purpose.

She reached her building, climbed the narrow staircase, and unlocked her door. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. She set her coffee down, kicked off her shoes, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then she shook her head.

“Nope,” she said to herself. “Not thinking about him.”

She cracked open the cold brew and took a long drink. It didn’t fix anything, but at least it reminded her she was awake.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Zoe.

**u alive**

Maya texted back: **barely. guess who i saw at the convenience store**

Zoe replied instantly: **the hot one**

Maya’s face warmed. **stop calling him that**

**u want me 2 call him boring guy??**

Maya considered it. **maybe**

There was a pause.

**did he flirt?**

Maya stopped typing. Her fingers hovered over the screen.

She thought about the smile he gave her. The easy way he talked. The way he caught her before she fell—twice. The way he didn’t rush her. The way he said “see you around” like he actually meant it.

**no**, she typed. **he was just being… him**

Zoe sent back a single emoji: 👀

Maya groaned and tossed her phone onto the couch.

She wasn’t going to think about Evan anymore.

Of course, that decision lasted roughly four minutes.

A knock came at her door.

She froze.

No one knocked on her door. Her neighbors texted before showing up, and delivery drivers left food on the doormat. Curious but cautious, she walked to the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood a delivery man holding a large cardboard box.

She opened the door a crack. “Hi?”

“Package for Maya Quinn.”

“I didn’t order anything.”

The man shrugged. “Says your name. Someone must’ve sent it.”

She signed for it and carried the box inside. It wasn’t heavy, just big. She opened it carefully.

Inside was a note taped to a sealed container of ice packs.

The note read:

**‘For the bruises you almost got. —E’**

Maya stared at it.

“Okay,” she whispered. “What the hell.”

She lifted the ice pack. It wasn’t fancy—just something from a drugstore—but the gesture hit her harder than she expected. It wasn’t flirty. It wasn’t dramatic. It was… thoughtful.

Thoughtful scared her more than flirting ever could.

Her phone buzzed again. Zoe.

**?? what now**

Maya swallowed.

**he sent me ice packs**

Zoe replied:

**girl. u are in trouble**

Maya sat down on the edge of her bed, still staring at the box, her heartbeat too loud in her ears.

Trouble felt like an understatement.