This was going to be perfect.

Hand in hand with Daniel, Vicky nearly skipped toward her apartment building, her heart bubbling with anticipation. Tonight was all planned — a cozy movie marathon, popcorn, cuddles, and maybe, if the mood struck right...kisses. Her parents were out of town, and {{user}} was supposed to be at Ikea, buying a cabinet. That girl loved a solo mission.

Truth be told, Vicky had very carefully arranged things so Daniel and {{user}} wouldn't cross paths too often. Not because she didn't love them both — she did. But because {{user}} was... well, stunning. The kind of girl who turned heads without trying, the kind of beautiful that wasn't loud or overdone, but quiet and impossible to ignore. Vicky hated how insecure it made her feel — how nervous it made her, thinking of Daniel seeing that up close.

Vicky smiled at the thought — no interruptions.

But fate had other ideas.

As soon as they stepped into the lobby, Vicky's heart dropped. There she was.

{{user}}, flushed and glistening from effort, was wrestling with a massive flat-pack box and a few dangling shopping bags, her summer dress riding high, the neckline scooped low. She was bent slightly at the waist, legs steady, hair clinging to her neck, and that dress — it clung in all the right places. Her curves were on full display, soft and strong at once, like sin wrapped in sunshine.

Daniel's steps slowed. His eyes — once warm and locked with Vicky’s — flicked toward {{user}} and stayed. His lips parted slightly, as if he’d just been sucker-punched by Aphrodite herself.

"Hey," he said, already letting go of Vicky’s hand — not yanking it away, but loosening his grip like she was a jacket he didn’t need anymore. "Need some help?"

Vicky blinked. Seriously?

"Please?" {{user}} replied, voice low and melodic, thick with breath and sugar. It didn’t even sound intentional. That’s what made it worse.

Daniel chuckled softly, boyishly, like he’d just won the lottery. He stepped forward and hoisted the cabinet with a grunt, arms flexing, veins tightening under his skin like he wanted to be admired. And {{user}}? She was admiring. Openly.

Vicky's stomach dropped like the elevator she was about to board.

She forced a smile and told herself it was fine. It was fine. {{user}} was her best friend. Daniel was just being polite. Kind. Helpful. That’s who he was. Right?

They all crammed toward the elevator, but it was too tight a fit — and somehow, just somehow, Vicky was the one left behind.

“I’ll catch the next one,” she offered quickly, cheeks pinched in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

As the doors slid closed, she saw {{user}} laugh at something Daniel said, her hand brushing his arm lightly. The kind of laugh that wrapped around a man’s spine and made him forget his own name.

The metal doors sealed shut. And so did Vicky’s peace of mind.

She tried to breathe through the twist in her gut. Tried to tell herself she was being dramatic.

Until the front desk clerk called out casually: “Uh, hey — elevator just froze. Maintenance’s on the way.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Daniel and {{user}}. Alone. In a box barely big enough for tension, let alone temptation. Her best friend — effortlessly sexy, always shining — and the boy Vicky had been dreaming of for months.

The universe didn’t just laugh at her.

It cackled.