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Nandini bit back the wave of frustration that swelled in her chest and went to the kitchen to serve the dessert. Choco lava cakes. The scent was rich, warm, comforting and completely wasted on her now-annoyed appetite.

She handed a cake to Grandpa, only to watch in horror as he picked up not one but two cakes.

“Daadu,” she scolded, “that’s way too much sugar.”

He waved her off. “Thank God that Shaurya is not here. He’d have confiscated it already and handed me some dry fruit nonsense instead.”

She blinked.

“But the guy deserves a choco lava cake too. He’s been looking after me pretty well,” Grandpa said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when doyouoffer him a cake?”

Grandpa gave a suspicious shrug and popped a piece of cake into his mouth. “He apologised to me today.”

Nandini stilled. “Wait—what?”

“For that New Year’s night drama,” her grandfather explained, licking chocolate off his thumb. “He came clean. Said some things he shouldn’t have. And I said some things I shouldn’t have. Happens.”

Nandini blinked, her chest tightening not with shock, but something far more unexpected.Relief.

He apologised?

She knew Shaurya wasn’t the type to bend easily, not to anyone. Especially not to her grandfather, with whom he had been exchanging barbed sarcasm ever since they’d become neighbours. But just the thought that he had taken that step, swallowed his pride, and made peace with him, it sparked something warm in her chest.

A small, surprised smile tugged at Nandini’s lips. “I’m… glad you two talked.”

More than glad, actually. It was like watching two boulders finally stop crashing into each other and settle quietly, side by side. A quiet hope stirred in her. Maybe things reallycouldchange.

Grandpa nodded and gestured towards the cake box. “Well, now go give it to him. And don’t ask too many questions.”

She was still processing that when Varun chimed in, lounging on the armrest beside Grandpa. “Yeah, Nandini. Go on. You’re the host. It’s technically your duty.”

Before she could argue, Kavya suddenly offered sweetly, “If she’s too busy, I can take it to him.”

That did it.

“No,” Nandini said quickly, grabbing a box and sliding the cake inside. “I’ll go.”

‘Not because Kavya said so,’ she told herself. ‘Because I need to give him a piece of my mind, too.’

Fuming, she walked out the door, her steps growing more determined with every second. She reached his villa and rang the doorbell with anger. A few seconds later, the door opened, and there he was. Her maddeningly hot and handsome neighbour.

Jeans that moulded his hips and thighs. Black shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Hair slightly tousled. Barefoot and unbelievingly calm.

He stood there, completely unfazed.

And in that moment, he looked just like the choco lava cake in her hand. Sinful, tempting, and irresistible.

She shoved the cake box toward him. “Here. From Daadu.”

Shaurya tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You shouldn’t hand food at the door. It’s rude.” Then, stepping aside, he added, “Come in.”

With a dramatic groan, Nandini stormed inside his home without waiting for an invitation. Her dress swayed with every furious step as she marched straight to the dining table, the very same table from New Year’s Eve. The one that had unknowingly branded itself into her memory.

She set the cake down on the table with a thud, then spun around to face him.

Shaurya had already shut the door and stood before her with the kind of infuriating calm that made her want to scream. He looked like sin wrapped in denim, and she hated that her heart still had the audacity to skip a beat.