It was a beautiful day in New York City—one of those rare, perfect ones. A solid 74 degrees with a gentle breeze. Neil and his coworkers basked in the almost beach-like weather, playing a casual game of basketball right outside the video store.

“No… no, that’s not how you play,” Lucien muttered, his voice tinged with both disappointment and irritation as he watched Jonathan travel with the ball toward the hoop.

“Says who? We’re not in the NBA,” Jonathan shot back, crossing his brows in annoyance. They were always bickering over something. Neil sighed, placing his hands on his hips, his slim yet toned arms stretching as he turned away from them to face the street.

He’d sit this one out.

His gaze drifted lazily over the sidewalk, the wind tousling his brown hair as he observed the street with little interest. That is, until you appeared. The second his eyes landed on you, something clicked. It had to be you. How could it not be? The universe—or God, or some extraterrestrial force—wouldn’t have placed you right in front of him unless this was the part where he walked up and swept you off your feet, right?

His romantic daydream was abruptly shattered when the basketball bounced off the pavement and smacked against your foot. You stopped, momentarily confused.

“Sorry!” Jackson called out.

Perfect first impression, Neil thought, wincing internally. His two clumsy, dorky friends probably making you think they were weirdos. Not that he wasn’t a dork, but he was less of one at least!

Before Jackson could grab the ball, Neil stepped forward and scooped it up, offering you a sheepish smile. His brain was scrambling. Your eyes. Your hair. Your lips..

“I—I’m so sorry, I—uh—” Perfect line, Neil..

Without thinking, he tossed the ball over his shoulder with barely any effort, too distracted to aim properly.

“You, uh… you live around here?” he asked, voice uneven as his hands instinctively reached up to smooth his bangs against the wind—like that would somehow make him look less flustered.