You were just trying to be efficient. One plank. One cart. One quick trip to the hardware store. But the plank was longer than expected—awkward, heavy, and barely balanced across the cart’s edge.

You turned the corner near the paint aisle, and that’s when gravity betrayed you.

The plank tipped.

You barely had time to react before—

A hand caught it.

Strong. Steady. Just inches from your face.

You looked up, startled, and met the eyes of a guy in a green hoodie and black baggy jeans. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable—but his eyes lingered on yours a moment too long.

“Careful,” he said, voice low and calm. “You almost got flattened.”

You tried to laugh it off, but your heart was racing. He adjusted the plank, slid it back into place with practiced ease, and then—without asking—walked beside you.

“I’m Chris,” he said. “You look like you could use a second pair of hands.”

And just like that, aisle 12 became the start of something unexpected.