Chapter 1

I was curled up on the couch at eight that night, halfway through a burrito, when the number-one trending topic caught my eye: [Lewis Group CEO Oliver Lewis's first love returns after ten years.]

Under the headline were photos snapped at the airport. A woman in a cream trench coat stood there with long hair cascading over her shoulders, her features soft and striking.

The comments were full of people gushing about how they were made for each other and how this was straight out of a romance novel come to life.

I ate my burrito and clicked my tongue.

Oliver was my neighbor across the hall, the CEO of some big-name tech company.

Rumor had it he'd stayed single for ten years because of his first love, Nicole Summers. They said he kept rejecting other women and was the kind of lovesick guy everyone in the business world talked about.

Well, I'd been neighbors with this so-called hopeless romantic for nearly six months.

And more importantly, for those six months, he'd shown up at my place almost every day under the excuse of "being neighborly". He ate my food, hogged the remote, and crashed on my couch.

In the mornings, he'd lurk outside my door waiting for breakfast. At night, he'd be there again, waiting for me to get home from work. He was clingier than my cat.

To the world, he played the cold, aloof, heartbreakingly devoted CEO. At home, he was a shameless freeloader with separation anxiety. The way he switched between those two personas was ridiculous.

I was still chuckling at the trending topic when suddenly, someone slammed hard against my door, like he was trying to break it down.

Still holding my burrito, I shuffled over in my slippers and opened the door.

Oliver stood there in a black custom-tailored suit, his tie loosened and hanging crooked, his usually composed face drawn tight, with a flicker of panic in his eyes that I couldn't quite make sense of.

"Viola, you finally opened the door," he said. His voice was low and sharp, edged with frustration.

I stepped aside, still chewing my burrito. "Mr. Lewis, did you pick Nicole up from the airport and suddenly decide to drop by? Must be nice having that kind of free time."

Oliver strode inside and shut the door behind him. His gaze landed on my takeout burrito, and he frowned.

Then he stared at my phone, right at the trending headline still glowing on the screen.

"Did you see it?" he asked.

"Of course. Everyone did." I tossed the last bite of burrito into the trash and grabbed a napkin to wipe my hands.

Then I raised an eyebrow at him. "They're all talking about how you waited ten years for her. What a devoted man you are. Of course, I had to see what the fuss was about."

"That's not true." Oliver stepped closer, crowding into my space. For some reason, a faint blush crept up his ears.

His tone stiffened as he explained, "Everything online is fake. Gossip sites are making things up. She and I are not like that."

"Not like what?" I deliberately dragged it out, dropping onto the couch. Then I grabbed a bag of fries. "The childhood-sweethearts kind? The unforgettable first-love kind? Or the 'you'd give up everything for her' kind?

"The articles had spelled it out clearly. You'd stayed single for ten years because of her. Mr. Lewis, that's a very impressive image you've built."

"I'm not building an image." His voice shot up, then he caught himself and dropped it back down. No need for the neighbors next door to hear this.

He said, "It's a misunderstanding. We grew up together. That's it. Nothing else."

"Childhood sweethearts, huh?" I drawled, munching on fries slowly. "Was that what shocked everyone this much? If it's really nothing, why rush over here to explain yourself to me?

"Mr. Lewis, she must be pretty important to you."

That shut Oliver up. He frowned, looking both irritated and flustered, like a dog that had its tail stepped on.

His eyes flicked from the fries in my hand to my unconcerned expression. Then suddenly, he bent down and yanked the cushion right out of my lap.

Without hesitation, he plopped himself right in the center of my couch, my spot, the most comfortable one.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" I glared at him.

"Starting today, I'm moving in," he declared, completely self-assured, chin tilted up like the overbearing CEO he had always been.

However, what he said next was unbelievably childish.

He said, "I've decided to stay with you twenty-four hours a day so you stop overthinking and letting online rumors get into your head."

I nearly choked on a fry.

"Mr. Lewis, are you okay?" I leaned in and looked at him. "The girl you like is back in town. Shouldn't you be hanging around her instead of crashing on my couch? People will think I'm trying to steal you from her."

"You don't need to steal anyone." He caught my wrist, his grip gentle but unyielding. He looked very serious. "There was never anything between her and me. Don't jump to conclusions, and don't shut me out over something like this."

My heart skipped a beat. I quickly pulled my hand back, pretending to fuss with the cushions, trying to hide how nervous I was.

Yeah, like I'd actually care.

He was only a neighbor who ate my food, hogged my remote, and treated my couch like his own, plus some famous ex everyone knew about. I'd have to be insane to drag that kind of mess into my life.

Still, I didn't kick him out.

I pushed the fries toward him. "Want some? I made them spicy. You always like them this way, right?"

Oliver's expression brightened instantly, the tension and awkwardness from before vanishing without a trace. He picked up a fry and held it to my lips. "Here. Take your time."