It was a Saturday morning, and you were stuck at home, trying to finish an essay that you’d put off all week. The house was quiet except for the occasional sound of birds chirping outside. You were starting to lose focus when you heard a knock on the door. You opened it to find Matthew, the guy who lived next door, standing there holding a toolbox.

“Hey,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “I think I broke my bike chain. Can you help me out?” You blinked at him. Matthew had always been the kind of guy who seemed like he had it all together—confident, athletic, always out doing something. But here he was, standing at your door, needing your help with something as simple as a bike.

“Um, sure,” you said, stepping aside so he could come in. “I’ve fixed a bike before.”

He smiled, and there was that easy charm of his. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You grabbed your tools, and for the next few minutes, the two of you worked together in silence, fixing the bike in the driveway. There was something oddly comfortable about it—the way he kept giving you that quiet, appreciative look every time you managed to tighten something or get the chain back on track. When it was done, he stepped back, inspecting the bike with a satisfied grin. “You’re a lifesaver.”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Matthew laughed, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. “Well, if you ever need a favor, you know where to find me.” “Same goes for you,” you said, with a small smile, the air between you suddenly feeling different. Like something had shifted.

He turned to leave, but then paused. “Oh, and hey... I’m having a few friends over tonight. You should stop by.” You weren’t sure why, but the thought of hanging out with him—really hanging out with him—suddenly felt a lot less intimidating than it had before.

“Maybe I’ll swing by,” you said, a hint of curiosity creeping into your voice.

He gave you a quick, mischievous grin. “I’ll be expecting you.”