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Manon knew she was cooked the second she missed her stop on the tube because she was too busy staring at the same three messages in her group chat.
Dani:
“soooo how was tinder wife”
Lara:
“did u survive”
Dani again:
“send face card immediately.”
Manon groaned and shoved her phone into the pocket of her leather jacket before speed-walking off the train like somebody had personally offended her. It was almost midnight, London air cold enough to make her nose hurt, and she could still smell Megan’s perfume on the collar of her shirt.
Which was honestly not helping.
Because okay.
Maybe she was being dramatic.
But Megan was genuinely the hottest girl Manon had ever seen in real life.
Like not “Instagram hot.”
Not “cute in good lighting.”
Not “looks better after two drinks.”
No.
Megan was scary hot.
The kind of hot where your brain stopped working halfway through a sentence. The kind of hot where Manon, a twenty-three-year-old woman with tattoos and commitment issues and enough confidence to flirt with bartenders for free drinks, had fully forgotten how to act normal.
And Megan was nineteen.
Nineteen.
Actually insane.
Manon unlocked the front door to her flat and immediately got hit with the smell of microwave popcorn and Daniela screaming at her TV.
“IF YOU PASS THE BALL ONE MORE TIME YOU ARE A COWARD,” Dani yelled from the couch.
Manon kicked off her boots. “Hello to you too.”
Daniela whipped around so fast her bonnet nearly slid off. “OH MY GOD.”
Manon sighed already. “Don’t start.”
“No, actually, wait.” Dani pointed aggressively. “You have hookup posture.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re walking like your knees are buffering.”
“Shut up.”
Dani burst into laughter so violently she nearly fell off the couch. “OH MY GOD YOU GOT SOME.”
Manon threw her jacket at her roommate’s face.
Dani caught it. “Okay wait wait wait.” She sat cross-legged immediately, eyes huge. “Everything. Now. Tinder girl. Megan.”
Manon walked into the kitchen trying very hard to act casual even though her entire body still felt weirdly electric. “Nothing happened.”
“Right.” Dani snorted. “And I’m the Queen.”
Manon grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “We just hung out.”
“Mhm.”
“We talked.”
“Mhm.”
“And then we kissed.”
“Mhm.”
“And then—”
Dani slapped the couch cushion. “I KNEW IT.”
Manon hid her face behind the water bottle. “Can you be normal for one second?”
“No actually because last week you said—and I quote—‘I’m deleting Tinder forever because everybody on there either has a podcast or says they’re emotionally unavailable.’”
“Both can be true.”
Dani leaned forward immediately. “Was she hot in person?”
Manon stared at the ceiling.
Dani gasped. “Oh my god. She was hotter.”
“She should literally be illegal.”
“DETAILS.”
Manon flopped dramatically onto the armchair across from the couch. “Okay so first of all? Her apartment looked like Pinterest threw up in there.”
“Dangerous.”
“Candles everywhere.”
“Lesbian final boss.”
“And she had this stupid white tank top on—”
“YOU REMEMBER THE OUTFIT?”
“Shut up.” Manon pointed at her. “And her hair was like messy but on purpose? Like she somehow looked expensive and homeless at the same time.”
Dani wheezed.
“And she kept looking at me like—” Manon stopped talking abruptly.
“Like what?”
Manon made a face. “Like she knew I was losing my mind.”
“Oh she definitely knew.”
“She was so mean.”
“You like mean women.”
“That’s not the point.”
Dani grinned. “Did you stay over?”
Manon took another sip of water. “Maybe.”
Dani screamed into a pillow.
“Okay, calm down.”
“No actually this is huge for you. You hate staying over. You once called an Uber at four in the morning because a girl snored.”
“She sounded like a lawnmower.”
Dani was fully vibrating now. “Wait. Did you guys at least plan a second date?”
Manon opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Dani narrowed her eyes slowly. “Manon.”
“What?”
“You did not leave without securing the next link-up.”
Manon looked away.
“Oh my god.”
“I got nervous!”
“Nervous?” Dani barked out a laugh. “You flirt with strangers for sport.”
“Not with her.”
That shut Dani up for exactly two seconds.
Then her eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“You actually like her.”
Manon nearly choked on air. “Absolutely not.”
“You stayed over AND you’re acting weird.”
“I am not acting weird.”
“You’re sitting like somebody just wrote fanfiction about you.”
Manon threw a couch pillow at her this time.
Dani dodged it easily. “Did she at least text after?”
Manon reached for her phone instantly before she could stop herself.
Dani’s grin turned evil.
“Oh my god, you checked immediately.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You literally moved like a cartoon character.”
Manon looked down at the screen.
No new messages.
Which was fine.
Totally fine.
Actually she didn’t care at all.
Except maybe she did a little because she could still picture Megan leaning against the kitchen counter earlier, smiling all lazy while she said, “You always this cocky over text or was I special?”
Manon had almost died on the spot.
Dani snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Earth to loser.”
Manon tossed the phone beside her. “Whatever. It’s chill.”
“Mhm.”
“It is.”
“Mhm.”
Manon groaned loudly. “Stop ‘mhm’-ing me.”
Dani opened her mouth.
Then paused.
“Wait.”
“What?”
Dani pointed at her neck.
“Where’s your chain?”
Manon froze.
“What?”
“Your gold chain.”
Immediately Manon’s hand flew to her throat.
Nothing.
No chain.
No familiar cool metal against her skin.
Her stomach dropped so fast it actually hurt.
“No no no no no.”
Dani sat up. “Wait, seriously?”
Manon was already scrambling off the chair. “Oh my god.”
“The one your mom gave you?”
“Yes!”
“Okay don’t panic—”
“I AM panicking.”
Manon started patting every pocket she had like the chain was magically gonna appear if she checked aggressively enough.
Jacket pockets.
Jeans.
Bag.
Nothing.
“Oh my god.”
“When did you last have it?”
“I don’t KNOW.”
“Yes you do, think.”
Manon squeezed her eyes shut.
Okay.
She remembered putting it on before leaving.
She remembered Megan touching it at one point—
Oh no.
OH NO.
“It’s at her place.”
Dani blinked. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Manon dropped onto the couch dramatically. “I took it off because it got caught in my hair.”
Dani stared.
Then immediately started laughing.
“This is not funny.”
“You left your sentimental jewelry at the hot Tinder girl’s apartment after hooking up. That’s literally a romcom setup.”
“I’m actually gonna throw up.”
“Text her.”
Manon made a horrified noise instantly. “Absolutely not.”
Dani looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Why?”
“Because.”
“Beautiful explanation.”
Manon buried her face in her hands. “I cannot text her first after tonight.”
“You already stayed over. I promise the mystery is gone.”
“You don’t get it.”
“No, I do.” Dani pointed. “You’re intimidated.”
“I am not intimidated.”
“You’re scared of a nineteen-year-old.”
Manon sat up immediately. “I am NOT scared of her.”
“Then text.”
Silence.
Dani’s expression became unbearably smug.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “You are.”
Manon groaned so loudly the upstairs neighbor banged on the ceiling.
Because okay.
Maybe she was a little scared.
Not scared scared.
Just… nervous.
Which was ridiculous.
She was twenty-three. Megan was nineteen. She should have this completely under control.
Instead she felt like she was seventeen again trying to flirt with girls at house parties and immediately forgetting how words worked.
Dani held out her hand. “Phone.”
“No.”
“Manon.”
“No.”
“TEXT HER.”
Manon unlocked her phone with the energy of somebody defusing a bomb.
Her Tinder messages with Megan were still open.
The last thing Megan had sent hours ago was:
“text me when u get home pretty girl”
Which honestly should’ve been illegal.
Dani read over her shoulder and screamed. “PRETTY GIRL?”
“Stop yelling.”
“She bagged you instantly.”
Manon typed:
hey i think i accidentally left my chain at yours :(
She stared at it.
Then deleted the entire thing immediately.
Dani groaned. “Coward.”
“I sound stupid.”
“You sound normal.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do.”
Manon typed again.
hey sorry random question but have u maybe seen my gold chain
Delete.
Then:
Hi!! I think I left something at yours maybe??
Delete.
“Why am I acting like this?” Manon whined.
Dani snatched the phone.
“HEY.”
“You’ve lost texting privileges.”
“Daniela.”
But Dani was already typing.
“No no no no—”
Too late.
Message sent.
Dani held the phone above her head triumphantly while Manon lunged for it.
“What did you SAY?”
“Relax.”
“SHOW ME.”
Dani finally handed the phone over.
hey lol i think i left my gold chain at yours?? no worries if not <3
Manon stared at the message in horror.
“The heart??”
“It’s friendly.”
“It’s flirty!”
“You hooked up with her, not your accountant.”
Manon paced the living room immediately. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
Dani cackled. “You’re actually down horrendous.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
Manon checked the chat every six seconds like a maniac.
No response.
Which was fine.
Totally fine.
Maybe Megan was asleep.
Maybe she was busy.
Maybe she was texting somebody hotter.
Okay that one sucked.
Dani eventually muted the TV. “You need to chill.”
“I am chill.”
“You’ve refreshed the app twelve times.”
“Maybe it glitched.”
“Mhm.”
An hour passed.
Then two.
Then three.
Still nothing.
By hour four, Manon was lying face-down on the carpet while Dani painted her nails at the coffee table.
“She hates me.”
“She’s asleep.”
“She thinks I’m embarrassing.”
“You literally left jewelry there. It’s not weird.”
“What if she can’t find it?”
“Then you’ll survive.”
Manon groaned into the floorboards.
Her phone buzzed.
Both girls snapped upright instantly.
Manon grabbed the phone so fast she nearly dropped it.
Megan:
sorry baby just saw this 😭 yeah i have it
Manon stopped breathing.
Dani was already climbing over the couch. “WHAT DID SHE SAY?”
Manon shoved the phone in her face silently.
Dani slapped her arm. “BABY?”
“Shut up.”
Then another message came through.
Megan:
u can come get it whenever
And then:
Megan:
unless u left it here on purpose
Manon stared at the screen so hard her vision blurred.
Dani made the loudest noise a human being had ever produced.
“Oh she wants you BAD.”
Manon’s face felt approximately nine thousand degrees hot.
Another text.
Megan:
i wouldn’t complain btw
Manon fell backward dramatically onto the carpet.
Dani stood over her losing her mind laughing.
“You are never emotionally recovering from this.”
Manon covered her face with both hands.
Because yeah.
Maybe she wasn’t.
_______
Manon changed outfits six times.
Actually seven.
The seventh one was technically just the third outfit again because Daniela said she was “spiraling aesthetically.”
“I am not spiraling,” Manon snapped, yanking off a hoodie.
Dani looked up from her laptop. “You’ve asked me if grey jeans make you look performative three separate times.”
“That’s a valid concern.”
“No it’s not.”
Manon stared at herself in the mirror again.
Okay.
Maybe coming over to collect the chain didn’t technically require looking hot.
But Megan had sent:
“come whenever :)”
Which somehow felt flirty enough to destroy Manon psychologically.
Also the “baby” thing from last night had permanently altered her brain chemistry.
Dani watched her pace around the bedroom. “You know she already likes you, right?”
“That’s literally impossible.”
“She invited you back.”
“For the chain.”
“She flirted with you while returning stolen property.”
Manon pointed aggressively. “I didn’t steal it. I lost it.”
“Whatever helps you sleep.”
Manon checked her phone again.
No new messages.
Which was normal.
Because Megan wasn’t obligated to text every six minutes like a psycho.
Still.
Manon opened Instagram.
Then immediately regretted it because Megan had posted on her story.
A mirror pic.
Of course.
White crop top.
Grey shorts.
Hair in a messy bun.
No makeup except lip gloss.
Caption:
“cleaning era”
Manon physically sat down on the floor.
Dani looked over. “What happened.”
“She posted.”
“And?”
Manon silently handed over the phone.
Dani’s jaw dropped. “Oh that’s evil.”
“Right?”
“She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
“She can’t possibly know.”
“Manon.” Dani looked her dead in the eyes. “That girl could ruin governments.”
Manon snatched the phone back dramatically.
Because genuinely.
Why did Megan always look like that?
Like she woke up in perfect lighting.
Like every angle was calculated by scientists.
Meanwhile Manon had spent twenty minutes trying to make her hair look “effortlessly messy” and currently resembled a raccoon going through emotional hardship.
“You need to leave,” Dani said finally.
“I have time.”
“You’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Exactly. Plenty of time.”
“Get OUT.”
Twenty minutes later Manon was outside Megan’s building wondering if faking her own death would be easier.
This was ridiculous.
She was being ridiculous.
It was just a girl.
A nineteen-year-old girl.
Who happened to have devastating eye contact and really pretty hands and—
Nope.
Shut up.
Manon buzzed the flat.
Immediately Megan answered.
“Hi baby.”
Manon forgot every language simultaneously.
“Uh. Hi.”
“You coming up or you planning on living in the lobby?”
Manon heard the smile in her voice.
Which should’ve been illegal honestly.
The elevator ride felt like psychological warfare.
By the time she reached Megan’s floor, her heartbeat was genuinely embarrassing.
The apartment door swung open before she could knock.
And oh.
Oh this was sick actually.
Because Megan somehow looked even better than the story.
The white crop top was tiny.
The grey shorts sat low on her hips.
Her hair was twisted into the world’s messiest bun with loose strands falling around her face.
And she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Manon noticed that immediately and then got mad at herself for noticing immediately.
Megan leaned against the doorway casually. “You okay?”
Manon blinked.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at me for like ten seconds.”
“I have not.”
Megan grinned slowly.
God.
That grin.
“I missed you too,” Megan said.
Manon nearly walked directly into the wall entering the apartment.
Behind her, Megan laughed softly and shut the door.
“You’re mean,” Manon muttered.
“You like it.”
Unfortunately.
Yeah.
Megan wandered back toward the kitchen while Manon tried very hard not to stare at her legs.
The apartment still smelled like vanilla candles and expensive shampoo.
It was unfairly cozy.
“Want water?” Megan asked.
“Sure.”
Megan grabbed a glass from the cabinet. “Your chain’s on the counter somewhere. I forgot where I put it.”
“Cool cool cool.”
Manon’s brain was functioning beautifully.
Absolutely incredible stuff happening neurologically.
Megan handed her the water, fingers brushing hers for half a second.
Which apparently was enough to short-circuit Manon completely.
Megan noticed immediately.
Of course she did.
“You get shy around me,” she said casually.
Manon choked on water.
“No I don’t.”
“You literally do.”
“I literally don’t.”
Megan tilted her head, trying not to smile. “You were cocky on Tinder.”
“I am cocky.”
“Not here.”
Manon crossed her arms. “You’re just intimidating.”
Megan looked genuinely surprised.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“I’m like 4 years younger than you.”
“And somehow evil.”
Megan burst out laughing.
Like fully laughing.
Head tilted back and everything.
Manon hated how cute it was.
“That’s crazy,” Megan said. “You know I was nervous too, right?”
Manon stared at her. “There’s actually no way.”
“There is.”
“You looked completely confident.”
“I was faking it.”
“Well you deserve an Oscar.”
Megan smiled softer this time.
“You really thought I didn’t like you?”
Manon looked away immediately. “Maybe.”
“That’s kinda cute.”
“Don’t call me cute.”
“You’re being cute right now.”
Manon groaned and covered her face.
Megan laughed again, then walked over to the kitchen counter digging through random clutter.
“Found it.”
She held up the gold chain triumphantly.
Manon felt immediate relief. “Oh my god.”
“It’s pretty.”
“My mom gave it to me.”
Megan’s expression softened instantly. “Oh. Then yeah, good thing you came back.”
She stepped closer.
Really close.
Close enough that Manon could smell her perfume again.
Megan lifted the chain slightly. “Want help putting it on?”
Manon should’ve said no.
She absolutely should’ve said no.
Instead:
“Okay.”
Megan moved behind her carefully.
Manon tried extremely hard to remain a functioning human being while Megan brushed her hair aside.
Her fingertips skimmed the back of Manon’s neck lightly.
And wow.
Wow.
“That tickles,” Manon mumbled.
Megan laughed quietly behind her. “You’re nervous again.”
“You’re standing very close.”
“I’m literally putting a necklace on you.”
“Yeah well. Still.”
The clasp clicked shut.
But Megan’s hands lingered for a second afterward.
Just resting lightly against her shoulders.
Manon’s brain went suspiciously blank.
“You smell good,” Megan said softly.
“Oh.”
Real intelligent response there.
Megan turned her gently to face her again.
“You always this awkward in person?”
“Only when hot girls bully me.”
Megan bit back a smile. “I’m not bullying you.”
“You called me cute like four times.”
“Because you are.”
Manon looked down immediately.
Megan noticed that too.
“You do that a lot,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Look away when I compliment you.”
“Well yeah.”
“Why?”
Manon shrugged awkwardly. “Dunno.”
Megan studied her for a second.
Then she reached up and fixed a strand of Manon’s hair.
The gesture was weirdly gentle.
“You know,” Megan said quietly, “I thought you were gonna ghost me after last night.”
“What?”
“You seemed freaked out when you left.”
“I was freaked out.”
“Because of me?”
“Because I liked you.”
The words escaped before Manon could stop them.
Silence.
Actual silence.
Manon wanted the floor to open up and consume her instantly.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Forget I said that.”
But Megan was smiling again.
Not smug this time.
Just… warm.
“I liked you too, idiot.”
Manon stared at her.
Then Megan leaned in slightly. “Can I kiss you or are you gonna combust?”
“Probably combust.”
“Still wanna kiss you.”
So she did.
And okay.
Maybe Manon had been dramatic before.
But kissing Megan genuinely felt unfair.
Like this girl had somehow studied exactly how to make Manon lose her mind.
One hand rested lightly on her waist while the other curled against her jaw.
Soft.
Slow.
Mean in a devastating way.
When they pulled apart, Manon looked genuinely dizzy.
Megan grinned. “There she is.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
Which.
Unfortunately.
Was becoming very true.
They ended up tangled together on the couch afterward, talking nonsense for almost an hour.
Music played quietly from Megan’s speaker while Manon lay with her head against the armrest and Megan’s legs thrown over hers.
At one point Megan started tracing the tattoos on Manon’s arm absentmindedly.
“You were definitely a menace at seventeen,” Megan decided.
Manon gasped. “Excuse you.”
“You have chaos energy.”
“You flirted with me by insulting me.”
“And it worked.”
“Unfortunately.”
Megan laughed softly.
Manon looked over at her.
Really looked at her.
And suddenly the nerves from yesterday felt different.
Still there.
But smaller now.
Less terrifying.
Because Megan wasn’t just hot.
She was easy to talk to.
Easy to laugh with.
Easy to sit beside in comfortable silence.
Which honestly felt more dangerous than the hotness thing.
“You’re staring again,” Megan said without looking up.
“You’re annoying.”
“You think I’m pretty.”
“I think you need to humble yourself.”
Megan finally looked at her then, smiling lazy and bright.
“Nah,” she said. “I think you can do that for me.”
______
Megan shifted closer after that.
Not dramatic about it.
Not even noticeable at first.
Just suddenly there.
Her thigh pressed against Manon’s.
Her fingers absentmindedly playing with the rings on Manon’s hand.
The apartment was warm, late afternoon light spilling through the windows gold and soft, and Manon felt weirdly suspended in it all. Like she’d stepped into somebody else’s life for a few hours.
A dangerous life.
A life where nineteen-year-old girls looked at her like that and called her baby and somehow made her nervous enough to forget basic motor functions.
“This is kinda crazy,” Manon admitted eventually.
Megan glanced over. “What is?”
“You.”
Megan laughed immediately. “Me specifically?”
“Yes. Specifically you.”
“Damn. Should I be offended?”
“Maybe.”
Megan nudged her knee with hers. “You still haven’t told me why you were so scared to text me.”
Manon groaned. “Do we have to revisit this trauma?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Manon hid her face in the couch cushion dramatically. “Because you’re hot, okay?”
“That’s it?”
“That’s not a small thing!”
Megan was fully smiling now. “Manon.”
“What.”
“You literally flirted with me first.”
“Yeah well. That was Tinder confidence. Fake confidence.”
“So the chain saved me.”
Manon looked up. “What?”
“If you didn’t leave it here you probably would’ve overthought yourself into never seeing me again.”
Okay.
Rude.
Accurate.
But rude.
Megan noticed the look on her face and started laughing again.
“You’re actually reading me to filth right now.”
“I’m just observant.”
“You’re evil.”
“You said that already.”
Manon rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
Which Megan definitely noticed too.
Because her expression softened again in that unfair way she had. Like she kept switching between teasing and sweet so fast Manon never had time to recover.
“You know,” Megan said quietly, “I was waiting for you to text all day.”
Manon blinked. “Seriously?”
“Mhm.”
“You could’ve texted me.”
“I thought you might think I was clingy.”
Manon stared at her in disbelief for a full two seconds.
Then burst out laughing.
Megan looked offended instantly. “What?”
“You? Nervous?”
“Shut up.”
“No actually this is huge for me.”
Megan grabbed a throw pillow and hit her with it.
Manon laughed harder.
And suddenly the weird tension from the last twenty-four hours cracked completely.
The nervousness.
The overthinking.
The “does she even like me?” spiral.
Gone.
Because Megan was nervous too.
Somehow.
Which made absolutely no sense considering she looked like she belonged in a music video.
“You’re cute when you laugh,” Megan said absentmindedly.
Manon’s laughter died immediately.
“There you go again,” Megan teased.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Complimenting me like it’s casual.”
“It is casual.”
“It feels targeted.”
Megan grinned. “Good.”
Before Manon could recover from that sentence, Megan leaned over and kissed her again.
Slower this time.
No teasing.
Just warm hands and soft lips and the feeling of Megan smiling a little into the kiss when Manon finally kissed her back properly instead of acting like she was being held hostage.
When they pulled apart, Megan stayed close enough that their noses brushed.
“You staying a bit longer?” she asked quietly.
Manon looked at her for maybe half a second before answering.
“Yeah.”
Megan smiled like she already knew that would be the answer.
Outside, rain had started tapping lightly against the windows.
Inside, Manon’s gold chain rested warm against her throat again.
And somehow, despite getting it back—
she had a feeling she was definitely leaving with another problem.