**Chapter One: Something About Him**
Lena had always been the "good girl." Sweet, responsible, soft-spoken. At twenty-two, she'd built a life that was simple but stable: a steady job, a decent boyfriend, a modest apartment on the edge of the city. She worked at a local kindergarten where she was beloved by both kids and parents. Every morning, she tied her chestnut-brown hair into a ponytail, slipped into her soft pink scrubs, and headed into a world of crayons, snacks, and songs.
It wasn't glamorous, but it felt *right*. She was good with children. Gentle. Patient. The kind of person who remembered birthdays and cut sandwiches into heart shapes without being asked.
And Alex--her boyfriend of two years--appreciated that about her. Or, at least, he used to.
He was a software developer at a small but promising startup, one of those tech companies with exposed brick walls and bean bag chairs. Lately, though, he was always exhausted. Deadlines piled up. Paychecks came late. Most nights, he came home after ten, too tired to talk, let alone touch her. Their relationship had become polite, routine. She loved him... but it wasn't enough anymore. Not emotionally. Not physically.
Worse, rent had nearly doubled.
Which was how they ended up standing in the kitchen one Saturday morning, waiting for a stranger to move in.
"He's cool," Alex said, sipping his burnt coffee. "Friend of a coworker. He's between places and just needs a few months."
"What's he like?" Lena asked, arms folded.
"Chill. Athletic. A bit... confident," Alex said with a small smirk. "But he's a good guy. Paid first and last month's rent up front."
"Confident like 'friendly' or confident like 'walks around shirtless and hits on the landlord's wife'?" she asked dryly.
Alex laughed. "Relax. You'll like him."
She doubted that.
And then there was a knock at the door.
Alex opened it--and Lena blinked.
The man standing in the hallway didn't look like someone who belonged in their quiet, half-furnished apartment. He was tall, with broad shoulders under a worn grey hoodie, a gym bag slung across one arm, and a cocky half-smile on his face. His skin was tan, his jaw stubbled, and his eyes--blue, sharp, amused--landed on Lena like he already knew something about her.
"Hey," he said, stepping in. "You must be Lena."
"Hi," she said coolly. "You're Jared?"
"In the flesh," he said, tossing his bag to the floor. "Alex said you were sweet. But he didn't say you were drop-dead gorgeous."
She arched a brow. "And he didn't say you were a flirt."
"Guess we're both learning things," Jared said with a wink.
Alex chuckled as if that was harmless. Lena just gave a tight smile and turned to walk away.
---
By Sunday, she already hated him.
Not because he was rude--he wasn't. Not because he was messy--he wasn't that either. No, what she hated was the *way* he existed. Loud. Confident. Too comfortable.
He walked around shirtless after workouts, his toned abs and low-slung sweatpants making her pulse betray her. He laughed loudly at his own jokes, watched sports like he was in the stadium, and managed to make every room feel smaller when he entered it.
And worst of all--he noticed her.
Every glance. Every outfit. Every time she blushed and looked away, he noticed.
That Monday morning, she came out of the bathroom in a loose t-shirt and underwear, thinking he was out jogging. He wasn't. He was on the couch, sipping coffee, bare chest on full display.
He whistled low. "Damn. That's a dangerous look to bring into the kitchen."
She froze, clutching the hem of her shirt. "I thought you were out."
He grinned lazily. "I was. Came back early. I won't tell your boyfriend."
"I'm not hiding anything," she muttered, grabbing a banana from the counter.
"Didn't say you were." He tilted his head. "You always this jumpy, or just around me?"
She turned to glare at him--but he wasn't mocking her. He looked... curious. Like he was trying to figure her out.
"I don't like smug guys who think they're God's gift," she said flatly.
He chuckled. "That's fair. But just for the record, I don't think I'm God's gift. I think I'm trouble. Big difference."
"Good," she said sharply. "Then stay out of my way."
But even as she turned to walk off, she could feel his gaze on her legs. And worse--she felt the heat between her thighs from it.
She hated that.
---
That night, Alex came home past ten again. She'd made pasta, reheated it twice, and eventually ate alone.
When he finally walked in, she stood and tried to smile. "Hey. Long day?"
He dropped his laptop bag on the couch and pulled her into a hug. "So long. I'm sorry. I wanted to be home earlier."
"It's okay," she whispered, letting him hold her.
They made love that night--if it could be called that. It was sweet, familiar, and careful. Always careful. He kissed her like she might break. Touched her like he was afraid of hurting her.
When he fell asleep, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, biting her lip.
Something was missing.
Something she didn't even know how to name.
But when she thought of Jared--his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at her like he could read all her secrets--her skin prickled.
She told herself it was just frustration.
She told herself she'd never cross that line.
But something had shifted the moment Jared walked through the door.
And deep down, Lena knew it was only a matter of time.
---
**Chapter Two: The Glance That Changed Everything**
The accident happened on a Thursday.
It had been a miserable day. Rain clung to the windows in thin rivulets as Lena trudged home, soaked from head to toe despite her umbrella. Her scrubs were damp, her shoes squeaked, and her patience was long gone after a child threw up on her right before dismissal.
All she wanted was a shower, food, and to fall into bed with no interruptions.
The apartment was quiet when she got home. Alex had texted that he'd be working late--again. Jared's bedroom door was cracked open, but she figured he was out. The bathroom light was off. Good.
She grabbed a towel, tiptoed across the hallway, and pushed the bathroom door open--
--and gasped.
He was right there. Completely, *utterly*, naked.
Steam clung to his skin like mist. Water droplets glistened along his abs, his thighs, his--
"Oh my God!" she yelped, stumbling backward.
Jared turned, startled, his hands nowhere near anything helpful.
"Shit! Lena--hey!" He didn't even move to cover himself, just reached calmly for a towel with that maddening, unbothered look on his face. "You didn't knock."
"You didn't lock the door!"
"I just got out," he said, smirking as he casually wrapped the towel around his waist. "Honest mistake. Not that I mind being seen."
She could feel her cheeks burning. Her eyes had already betrayed her. She'd seen everything. **All** of him. And he was--
Huge.
Not in an exaggerated, braggy way. Just... *impressively* built. Her brain short-circuited as she tried not to compare him to Alex. But it was impossible.
"You--you're unbelievable," she muttered, backing away, bumping into the doorframe.
"I've been told." That smirk again. God, she hated how good it looked on him. "But hey, if you wanted to get a better look, you could've just asked."
She didn't respond. She fled into her room, slammed the door, and buried her face in her pillow.
*What the hell is wrong with me?*
She wasn't supposed to notice things like that. She wasn't supposed to *care*. But the image was burned into her brain, vivid and impossible to ignore.
---
After that day, something shifted. Quietly. Subtly.
He started glancing at her more. Not long stares, not overt gestures--just quick, knowing looks when Alex wasn't paying attention. He'd catch her watching him and lift one brow like he could hear her thoughts.
And to her own horror... she started playing along.
Not on purpose, not consciously. But over the next few days, her outfits began to change. Slightly tighter tops. Leggings instead of sweats. One afternoon, she wore a low-back tank top around the apartment and caught him openly checking her out. He didn't even bother hiding it.
"Damn," he muttered with a grin, licking peanut butter off his thumb. "You trying to make housework dangerous?"
She tried to scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You bend over to pick up one more sock and I'm gonna need to call 911."
She rolled her eyes--but her stomach flipped.
Alex was there that evening, typing on his laptop while they watched a movie together on the couch. Lena sat beside him, legs tucked under her, but her eyes kept drifting to Jared, sprawled across the loveseat, shirtless again, a lazy smirk on his face.
He caught her looking. Raised a brow. Wiggled one of his eyebrows.
She snapped her eyes back to the screen, cheeks burning.
"You okay?" Alex asked, looking over.
"Yeah," she said quickly. "Just tired."
"Mmm," Jared hummed under his breath. "You don't *look* tired."
She pretended not to hear that. But her body did. Her thighs clenched.
Later that week, Jared came up behind her in the kitchen while she was making tea. Alex had stepped out for a quick grocery run.
"Nice shirt," he said casually, leaning over her shoulder. "Pink suits you."
She swallowed hard, feeling how close he was. "It's just a t-shirt."
"Still," he said, low in her ear. "Does things to me."
She spun to face him, trying to sound firm. "You need to stop."
"Stop what?"
"Flirting. Teasing. Looking at me like that."
He didn't back up. He just leaned one arm against the wall, boxing her in. "I can't help how I look at you."
"That's not my problem."
"No," he said, voice smooth. "But it's your reaction I'm curious about."
She hated him.
She hated how he made her feel.
She hated how her nipples tightened under her shirt just from the sound of his voice.
And she *really* hated that she stood there, not pushing him away.
Alex's key turned in the lock. Jared stepped back, casual as ever, like nothing had happened.
Lena's hands trembled as she reached for her tea.
---
The next night, as she sat in bed alone while Alex snored beside her, Lena opened her phone and scrolled through pictures of random things until her mind stopped replaying that moment in the kitchen.
It didn't work.
Jared was in her head.
Smug. Athletic. Unapologetically male.
She'd seen all of him.
And she didn't just want to forget.
