Chris Sturniolo had always been a puzzle you could solve.

You knew everything about him—the way he overthought things, the way he laughed just a little too hard at his own jokes, the way his fingers tapped against his jeans when he was nervous. He was your best friend, your constant, the person who had been there through everything.

But lately? Lately, he was different.

He had always been you with the dark curls, always a little chaotic, always full of energy that could light up a room. And you had always been him with the watercolor eyes, watching, analyzing, feeling more than you let on.

But now, the dynamic had shifted. His teasing felt heavier, more meaningful—his glances lasted too long to be accidental. And worst of all? You didn’t know what to do about it.

Because for the first time in your life, Chris was the one thing you couldn’t figure out.