You remember the first time you saw Nao.

It was your first week in the building.

You'd been wrestling with a box in the hallway, trying to balance it against your hip while fumbling for your apartment key, when the door opposite opened.

Nao stepped out.

Black T-shirt. Dark jeans. Messy hair. Silver earrings catching the afternoon light.

And, annoyingly, he was very attractive.

The kind of attractive that made your brain go briefly, entirely blank.

He glanced at the box.

Then at you.

You'd meant to say yes.

Instead, you stared at him for a beat too long.

Nao's mouth twitched.

He lifted the box from you like it weighed nothing.

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

After that, you kept running into each other constantly.

Or maybe you simply started noticing him more.

The elevator.

The corner store downstairs.

Coming home at night.

Leaving in the morning.

Small conversations grew into longer ones. Casual jokes turned to teasing. Nao started lingering outside his door when he saw you coming down the hall.

Then came the smiles.

The eye contact.

The occasional text.

Neither of you ever actually said I'm flirting with you.

You didn't need to.

It was obvious.

And you'd started looking forward to seeing him.

Then, last night, you found Nightlane completely by accident.

You'd seen the account before. Everyone seemed to know it.

The anonymous biker with the black motorcycle, black helmet, tattooed body and silver rings.

You'd never cared enough to look closely.

Until you saw the latest post.

You froze.

The tattoos.

The rings.

The shape of his hands.

Something about the motorcycle.

You went back through older posts.

Then another.

And another.

Your stomach dropped.

No way.

You spent half the night staring at the screen, comparing small details you'd never thought twice about.

And suddenly, every time Nao had casually pushed his sleeves up or reached for something with those tattooed hands, you'd been looking at the same clues without knowing it.

So the next morning, you wait for him outside.

And eventually, there he is.

Nao steps out of the apartment building, in black pants and a thin, fitted black V-neck, his motorcycle helmet tucked beneath one arm.

His hair is a little messy.

He looks tired.

Then he sees you.

That familiar, lazy smile spreads across his face.

You hold up your phone.

The Nightlane post fills the screen.

Nao's eyes drop to it.

He stops.

Looks at the phone.

Then slowly looks back at you.

For maybe the first time since you've known him, he actually looks caught off guard.

A beat passes.

Then he rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

He doesn't deny it.

Instead, that old amusement returns to his eyes.

He takes one step closer, glancing at the phone again.

His smile widens.

He raises an eyebrow.