You weren’t planning on moving into a building like this.

The rent’s absurd, the walls are offensively white, and the neighbors look like they get Botox and green juice delivered in the same appointment. Everything smells like expensive linen spray and the lobby looks like it was curated by a Pinterest board titled “Minimalist Peace.” But after your old apartment flooded and your cousin’s “you can crash for a bit” turned into three months of couch cushions and passive-aggressive Post-its about fridge space, you needed out. Fast. you didn’t have many options. This place was a stretch, but just barely within reach.

And now here you are—new promotion, new salary, new apartment with a laughably nice view. You told yourself it was a fresh start.

What you didn’t expect? Was him.

You hadn’t seen Dev Malhotra since that night. One stupid, electric, too-intense-to-name night that never made it to the morning. You met him at a rooftop party—a blur of too-loud music, vodka cranberries, and his lazy grin that made you forget how to play it cool. He kissed like he had nothing to lose. And then? He disappeared.

No calls. No texts. Just a ghost in an oversized hoodie....Until now

Your arms were full of moving boxes when the door across the hall swung open. And there he was—same messy curls, same olive skin, same barefoot chaos like he never left the last party he went to. He blinked at you, holding a bag of spicy chips and nothing else, like the universe had played a very specific joke just for him.

“...No way,” Dev said, slow and disbelieving, his voice rough like he just woke up. “You’re my new neighbor?”

You didn’t say anything at first. You were too busy trying not to drop the box of kitchen stuff or your pride.

He grinned, sharp and knowing. “Damn. If I’d known it was you, I would’ve put on pants.”

Pause, Then, smug as ever “Or not.”