Maybe

Chapter 43 You're bad

A few days went by like this. I kept meeting Daniel here and there, mostly to keep my mom happy. She needed to hear something, so I made up stories about how "things were going great." Honestly, Daniel just put up with me, but it was enough to get her off my back.

And Ethan? Oh, he was a whole different story.

I acted like the Perfect Nice Neighbor every time I saw him. I'd greet him with a cheerful "Morning!" or "Hello!" like we were complete strangers. The best part? It annoyed him so much. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes narrowed every time I spoke.

And I loved it.

Sometimes, I even thought he waited for me near the elevator just to share those awkward rides. Maybe he secretly enjoyed my weird behavior. Or maybe he was just dying to call me out on it.

Of course, I could've been imagining it. Who would go out of their way just to deal with my fake smiles and over-the-top greetings?

Still, every now and then, I'd catch him sneaking a look at me. It wasn't just an annoyed look. It felt... curious, like he was trying to see right through my mask.

But whenever I noticed, I'd flash him an even brighter smile and wave, acting extra cheerful.

And every time, he'd pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter something under his breath, clearly frustrated.

It was hilarious. Watching him get annoyed like that made my day. Ethan had turned frustration into an art, and he didn't even know it.

Later, one night air felt heavier than usual, or maybe that was just the alcohol hitting me. I staggered a few more steps toward my building, but my legs decided they'd had enough. With a groan, I leaned against a lamppost nearby, pressing my hand to my temple. My head throbbed like a bad drum solo, and the world spun like I was on a merry-go-round.

Today was one of my colleague's Birthday. She made sure we all got wasted before leaving. I mean.. I didn't hate it though. But It's coming at me now.

"Can I even make it to my apartment?" I mumbled to no one in particular, slumping further against the post.

Out of nowhere, a familiar face appeared—oh him. The man who crashed my car. Great timing. I soon learned his name. Maybe it was what? Brad was it?

"You okay?" he asked, his tone cautious, like he wasn't sure if I was about to throw up on his shoes or start a fight.

I laughed.. And once I started, I couldn't stop. My own ridiculousness, his confused face, the whole night—it all seemed hysterical.

He frowned, clearly unnerved, and pulled out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this."

I waved him off, still laughing. "Nah, I'm fine" I managed to say, though my voice was slurred.

He took a step back, probably wondering if I'd lost my mind. Honestly? Same.

Then, a new figure stepped into view. One whiff of that scent, and I knew exactly who it was. Ethan.

Of course, he'd show up now.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "Drunk in the street? Classy."

Normally, I'd snap back with something equally biting, but I didn't have the energy—or conscious—for it. My head swayed, and I instinctively reached out for something—anything—to keep from toppling over.

Unfortunately, that "something" turned out to be Ethan.

My hand grabbed his shirt, and before I knew it, he had his arms around me, steadying me like it was the most natural thing in the world. His grip was firm but careful, keeping me upright while I leaned into him for balance.