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“Huh?” Nandini blinked, momentarily disoriented.

He gestured downward.

She followed his gaze and groaned.

She had been so lost in his stupid, ridiculously handsome face that she hadn’t realised she had overwatered her plants, and now the excess water was spilling over into his perfectly maintained garden.

She stepped back quickly, trying to compose herself.Think of an excuse, Nandini. Quick!

“Uh! Well… you should be thankful that even your garden is getting watered because of me. Poor plants. When was the last time you even watered them?”

“This morning,” Shaurya said, tilting his head.

She opened her mouth, then promptly shut it. Damn it. He had?

Before she could come up with a retort, he continued, “Just because I complain about your mango tree doesn’t mean I hate plants. I know how to keep my garden well-maintained.”

The radio crackled, switching to another old melody.

Shaurya’s gaze flickered towards it, then back to her. “And what is this nonsense?”

Nandini frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Playingspecificallyneighbourly songs to get my attention.” His frowned. “Typical kiddo move.”

“Kiddo?!” Her mouth fell open in shock.

Shaurya crossed his arms, knowing she was going to throw up an argument.

She gasped, her hands on her hips. “I am not a kiddo! I am twenty-five!”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because your behaviour and antics are closer to a five-year-old.”

Nandini’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Don’t act like you’ve never crossed that age, and your countdown began straight from thirty-plus!”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Maybe I did. And maybe that’s why I don’t play mind games with radio songs.”

“Oh, please.” Nandini rolled her eyes. “The song was a coincidence! As if I’d request the radio channel to play this particular song just so I could mess with you.”

Shaurya hummed, clearly unconvinced.

Nandini flipped her hair over her shoulder. “For your kind information, I would never waste my time doing something for a neighbour who has done nothing but irritate my grandfather and me over our precious mango tree.”

The amusement in his eyes dimmed, replaced by an unreadable look. He took a step closer. “Yourpreciousmango tree is ruining my peace… and now, so is your radio.”

Nandini narrowed her eyes. “Dare you say anything about the radio. It’s Daadu’s.”

“Figured,” he huffed, crossing his arms in front.

“Stop being so smart all the time. ‘Figured,’ huh?” She mimicked him. “And by the way, I’m playing these songs inmygarden, not yours. So, if you have a problem, feel free to shut your doors, or even better, your eardrums. I don’t care. And imagine, even Kishore Kumar predicted our situation decades ago. The classic ‘grumpy neighbour dynamic’ between us.” She crossed her arms. “The only difference? Here, the heroine isn’t the one throwing tantrums. The hero is.”

Shaurya stilled.

A second passed.

Then two.

His expression darkened, his gaze locking onto hers.