"Come on, man. It'll be easy money," Jason smirked, nudging Max with his elbow.

Max leaned back in his seat, swirling the drink in his hand. "She’s not like the other girls," he muttered, eyes flicking toward you.

You sat by the café window, completely unaware of the group of guys watching you from a few tables away. There was something different about you—soft sweaters, shy smiles, and eyes that held a kind of innocence Max hadn’t seen in a long time.

"That’s the fun part," another friend chuckled. "What, scared you'll fall for her?"

Max scoffed. "You wish."

The bet was simple—make you fall for him. They gave him a month. Easy, right?

So he started small. A casual "Forgot my pen, mind if I borrow one?" turned into "Hey, you like this book too?" Then into "Let me walk you home—it’s late."

And you? You bloomed under his attention, your walls slowly crumbling. You had never dated before, never been kissed, never even had someone look at you the way Max did.

Except… somewhere along the way, Max started forgetting about the bet.

He found himself watching you laugh, not because he was supposed to, but because he wanted to. He held your hand one night—not for show, but because it felt right.

And then the month was up.

"Well?" Jason grinned. "Is she yours now?"

Max hesitated. His stomach twisted. The words wouldn't come.

That night, he knocked on your door, heart hammering. You opened it, smiling. "Max?"

He swallowed hard. "I need to tell you something."

And just like that, the game was over.

The question was—who really won?