Chapter 1 · Stalk to Love

Chapter 1

I was a hopeless case of social anxiety. My three greatest passions in life were reading comics, ordering takeout, and idling.

Everything changed when my crazy ex started blasting my Instagram with ridiculous rumors.

My bestie, Amari, wouldn't stop blowing up my phone. "Susan, look at what Charlie said. He's saying you're two-timing him and that your love life's a mess."

I rolled over and kept reading my comics. "Oh, I see."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to do? Get up and argue with him? I'm too lazy to type."

Amari yelled through the phone, fed up with how little I cared.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Who was that? Did my takeout come early?

I dragged myself out of bed and peeked through the peephole.

A guy was standing outside. He wore a white shirt and jeans, with a nice, clean face under his casually done hair.

This was my new neighbor. He held a trash bag, smiled at me, and had two little dimples.

"Hey, I was taking out the trash and saw a package by your door. Think it's yours." His voice was soft and clear. It was really nice to listen to.

I opened the door and stared at the box by his feet.

It was the limited-edition figurine I'd ordered yesterday.

How did he know this was mine?

*****

I stared at the package, my head spinning.

My name and apartment number were right there on the label.

But this community was usually strict with deliveries. Most of the time, the driver left stuff in the locker or at the door.

Why was Evan, the guy who'd newly moved next door, already being this nice?

Whatever, overthinking this was gonna fry my brain.

"Thanks." I forced out my most awkward smile and reached for the box.

It was way heavier than I expected, and I nearly tripped.

Suddenly, he steadied my arm with one hand.

With the other, he lifted the box like it was nothing.

"Let me get that for you. Looks heavy," Evan offered, his voice warm and smiley.

His hand was warm. I could feel it right through my thin shirt, and it kind of threw me off.

He lifted the box with one hand. Would he make a perfect boyfriend?

I meant to say no, but the words got stuck in my throat.

Socializing was so hard.

So I stepped aside quietly.

Evan placed the box in the entryway and glanced around.

His gaze was gentle, but I still felt weirdly seen, like he was reading my whole vibe.

"You live here alone?" he asked casually.

"Yeah." I nodded, secretly hoping he'd leave soon.

"You should be careful, living by yourself," Evan warned, flashing that friendly grin.

*****

The second he was gone, I locked the door.

Then I flopped onto the couch and texted Amari.

Me: [My new neighbor's kind of weird.]

Amari: [What happened? Did he mess with you? Drop your address, and I'll grab the crew and go teach him a lesson.]

Me: [Nothing like that. He only helped me with my delivery and reminded me to stay safe.]

Amari hit me with a bunch of question marks.

Amari: [Sounds nice, though. Is he handsome?]

Me: [Yeah, he's good-looking. Young vibe, white shirt, and woodsy scent.]

Amari: [OMG! That's a surprise romance. Susan, your love life's blooming. Go for it.]

I locked my phone and shut it down.

Love life? I'd rather stay holed up and let myself rot.

I unboxed the figurine, put it on the shelf, and got back to doing absolutely nothing.

At 11 PM, as my comic was getting good, my stomach growled.

I opened UberEats, but my go-to spot was already closed.

This was a disaster for me.

I was about to drink water to fill my stomach when the doorbell rang again.

It was Evan, once more.

He showed up in a plain white tee, carrying a plate.

"I made some late-night snacks and cooked too much. If you don't mind..." He scratched his head, a little shy. "I smelled something from your place, so I thought I'd share."

I looked down. On the plate was steaming hot lobster ravioli, with cheese and a fried egg.

It was the signature dish from my favorite mom-and-pop kitchen.

But that place was a 40-minute drive from our community.

And all I had over here was oatmeal.

I was dumbfounded for a couple of seconds.

How did he know the lobster ravioli was my favorite?

And when he said he smelled something, did he mean my oatmeal?

Chapter 1

I was a hopeless case of social anxiety. My three greatest passions in life were reading comics, ordering takeout, and idling.

Everything changed when my crazy ex started blasting my Instagram with ridiculous rumors.

My bestie, Amari, wouldn't stop blowing up my phone. "Susan, look at what Charlie said. He's saying you're two-timing him and that your love life's a mess."

I rolled over and kept reading my comics. "Oh, I see."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to do? Get up and argue with him? I'm too lazy to type."

Amari yelled through the phone, fed up with how little I cared.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Who was that? Did my takeout come early?

I dragged myself out of bed and peeked through the peephole.

A guy was standing outside. He wore a white shirt and jeans, with a nice, clean face under his casually done hair.

This was my new neighbor. He held a trash bag, smiled at me, and had two little dimples.

"Hey, I was taking out the trash and saw a package by your door. Think it's yours." His voice was soft and clear. It was really nice to listen to.

I opened the door and stared at the box by his feet.

It was the limited-edition figurine I'd ordered yesterday.

How did he know this was mine?

*****

I stared at the package, my head spinning.

My name and apartment number were right there on the label.

But this community was usually strict with deliveries. Most of the time, the driver left stuff in the locker or at the door.

Why was Evan, the guy who'd newly moved next door, already being this nice?

Whatever, overthinking this was gonna fry my brain.

"Thanks." I forced out my most awkward smile and reached for the box.

It was way heavier than I expected, and I nearly tripped.

Suddenly, he steadied my arm with one hand.

With the other, he lifted the box like it was nothing.

"Let me get that for you. Looks heavy," Evan offered, his voice warm and smiley.

His hand was warm. I could feel it right through my thin shirt, and it kind of threw me off.

He lifted the box with one hand. Would he make a perfect boyfriend?

I meant to say no, but the words got stuck in my throat.

Socializing was so hard.

So I stepped aside quietly.

Evan placed the box in the entryway and glanced around.

His gaze was gentle, but I still felt weirdly seen, like he was reading my whole vibe.

"You live here alone?" he asked casually.

"Yeah." I nodded, secretly hoping he'd leave soon.

"You should be careful, living by yourself," Evan warned, flashing that friendly grin.

*****

The second he was gone, I locked the door.

Then I flopped onto the couch and texted Amari.

Me: [My new neighbor's kind of weird.]

Amari: [What happened? Did he mess with you? Drop your address, and I'll grab the crew and go teach him a lesson.]

Me: [Nothing like that. He only helped me with my delivery and reminded me to stay safe.]

Amari hit me with a bunch of question marks.

Amari: [Sounds nice, though. Is he handsome?]

Me: [Yeah, he's good-looking. Young vibe, white shirt, and woodsy scent.]

Amari: [OMG! That's a surprise romance. Susan, your love life's blooming. Go for it.]

I locked my phone and shut it down.

Love life? I'd rather stay holed up and let myself rot.

I unboxed the figurine, put it on the shelf, and got back to doing absolutely nothing.

At 11 PM, as my comic was getting good, my stomach growled.

I opened UberEats, but my go-to spot was already closed.

This was a disaster for me.

I was about to drink water to fill my stomach when the doorbell rang again.

It was Evan, once more.

He showed up in a plain white tee, carrying a plate.

"I made some late-night snacks and cooked too much. If you don't mind..." He scratched his head, a little shy. "I smelled something from your place, so I thought I'd share."

I looked down. On the plate was steaming hot lobster ravioli, with cheese and a fried egg.

It was the signature dish from my favorite mom-and-pop kitchen.

But that place was a 40-minute drive from our community.

And all I had over here was oatmeal.

I was dumbfounded for a couple of seconds.

How did he know the lobster ravioli was my favorite?

And when he said he smelled something, did he mean my oatmeal?