The Girl with the Sweetest Smile

My mom sent me on an errand to my brother’s place, to drop something off for his girlfriend.
So I did what any sister would do: I barged right in.
And was greeted by the sight of a half-naked god with abs so sharp they could cut glass.
My brain short-circuited. But, hey, love is love.
With a quavering voice and tears welling in my eyes, I managed to stammer, “So… you’re the lucky lady? Hi!”
My brother’s voice, dripping with venom, echoed from behind me.
“Full points for politeness, Ellie. But my actual girlfriend is standing right behind you.”
Me: ???

1.
Oh. My. God.
I whipped around to meet the gaze of my brother’s actual girlfriend—a woman with stunningly beautiful eyes. My face instantly went supernova-hot. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole, to randomly teleport me to another dimension. Anywhere but here.
My brother, Ethan, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, his voice a furious whisper in my ear. “Ellie, what in the hell is going on inside that head of yours?”
Then he bent down, snatched a white T-shirt from the sofa, and chucked it at the guy. “Put this on, man. My girlfriend can’t stop staring.”
A pang of grief shot through my heart.
I couldn’t speak for his girlfriend, but my eyes were definitely glued.
And I hadn't gotten a good enough look yet!
The man just let out a low, amused chuckle. He casually pulled the shirt over his head, and a few drops of water from his damp hair flicked onto the back of my hand. They felt cool against my skin.
“What are you doing back so early?” he asked Ethan.
Ethan shot him a glare. “Mom called and said my little sister was on her way. I was worried her overactive imagination would conjure up some home invasion scenario, so I came back to make sure you were safe.” He paused, his voice dropping an octave. “Turns out, she imagined a boyfriend-in-law instead.”
The last words were ground out between clenched teeth.
I was being publicly shamed and didn't dare utter a single word in my defense.
The guy, however, looked completely relaxed. He sized Ethan up with narrowed eyes.
“Ethan, buddy,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “Even if my tastes suddenly took a sharp left turn, you’re not exactly the kind of prize I’d be after.”
“So, relax.”

2.
Clearly, this was just their normal brand of banter.
I’d actually heard about this Adonis before. He was my brother’s best friend and roommate from all four years of college—Raymond.
After graduation, Ethan had proudly joined the 9-to-5 grind, while Raymond, thanks to his stellar academic record, landed a coveted spot in the graduate program at Bridgewater University, the top-ranked school in our state, which just happened to be near our home.
Originally, Raymond had just asked Ethan to help him apartment-hunt.
But then, as they were passing a coffee shop, some girl apparently “accidentally” twisted her ankle and stumbled right into Raymond’s arms, spilling her latte all over his jacket.
She’d looked up at him, all apologies. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry about your jacket! Let me get your number, I’ll totally pay for the dry cleaning.”
Her intentions were as transparent as glass.
But Raymond was a walking, talking heart-shredder. He’d deadpanned, pulled out his phone, and opened his Venmo QR code. “That’ll be eight hundred and fifty-seven dollars.”
The girl’s face went pale. “For a jacket? Are you kidding me? That’s robbery!”
So Raymond simply pulled up the online receipt.
After confirming the price, the girl decided to play dumb, turned on her heel, and practically sprinted away.
Ethan recounted the story with theatrical flair, clearly enjoying every second of Raymond’s romantic misfortune.
“The guy’s a total clean freak, so he was losing his mind over the coffee stain. My apartment was close, so I brought him up to take a shower. I even generously offered him one of my own shirts,” he said, puffing out his chest.
I shook my head with a sigh. “That was a close one. He almost got a girlfriend.”
It just goes to show, when God builds a man that perfect, he’s got to leave a screw loose somewhere. It was so obvious the girl wanted to hit on him, not pay for damages.
Ethan put on a deep, thoughtful voice. “You don’t get it. This kind of thing happened to him constantly in college.”
“He’d start the semester with a full wardrobe, and by the end, half of it would be ruined by coffee, wine, you name it.”
That actually made sense.
There are a million ways to show someone you’re interested. Damaging their property has to be the dumbest one.
I nodded in agreement and muttered under my breath, “That’s got to be the oldest trick in the book. If it were me, I’d never do something so lame.”
But my quiet little comment didn’t go unheard.
A glint appeared in Raymond’s eyes. His smooth voice drifted down from above me.
“So how do you do it?”
“Me…?”
I was at a loss for words, my gaze locking with his dark, intense eyes.
His expression was curious, and genuinely serious.
Staring up into that perfectly sculpted face, a face without a single flaw from any angle…
My heart did something funny.
It skipped a beat.

3.
Raymond ended up renting the apartment directly above my brother’s.
It was only two miles from the university campus and two miles from my parents' house.
Despite the proximity, in all my time at school and around home, I had never once run into him. Zero times.
The new semester started with a chaotic whirlwind of activities that left my head spinning.
Among them was the soul-crushing news that I had not only flunked Calculus last semester but had just flunked the makeup exam as well.
I wasn’t sure whether to question my own intelligence or blame my terrible luck.
Seeing me sobbing like my life was over, my roommate, Chloe, had to physically restrain herself from laughing.
To lift my spirits and pull me out of my academic death spiral, Chloe dragged me to a party her friends were throwing. It was a mix of students from all the universities in the area, a big crowd of people our age, and everyone was having a blast.
Everyone except me.
After losing three out of four rounds of party games and being forced to take shots, I was nearing my alcohol limit. I wisely waved the white flag and opted for a dare on the next round.
One of the senior girls pointed a lazy finger toward a dark figure sitting at a corner table. “See that guy over there? The hot one. Go ask him if he wants to make out.”
The dare was insane.
And the atmosphere instantly exploded with excitement.
I followed her finger, peering through the dim, shifting lights and hazy smoke. From this distance, surrounded by a sea of people, I couldn’t make out his face.
But I could tell from his broad shoulders and the elegant, long-fingered hand wrapped around a glass that he had an… undeniable presence.
Dozens of expectant eyes were on me.
My stomach churned with a mix of dread and desperation. I didn’t want to be a buzzkill.
It’s not like we were actually going to kiss.
Steeling myself, I stood up.
To hide my terror and not ruin the mood, I threw my shoulders back and marched over, my stride so determined that I could see the reflection of a soldier heading into battle on the glass cabinets.

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