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Most people ignored those things. Noah fixed them.

He remembered people’s coffee orders. He noticed the little things everyone else overlooked.

Recently, he could not seem to stop noticing Claire Bennett. She’d been his neighbor for less than a week, and she was already becoming part of his routine.

Somehow, she became the first person he looked for every day.

He didn’t mean to start bringing her dinner. Or coffee. It just happened.

He didn’t mean to start timing Biscuit’s walks so they would end just as Claire was leaving for work. But he did.

The first time was a coincidence. Then it became intentional.

He didn’t plan for their morning chats in the hall. But now he looked forward to them.

And he certainly hadn’t planned for Claire, Miss “I Don’t Need Anybody,” to text him the moment she got good news at work.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

And Noah Carter usually knew what to do.

It was then he realized he was smiling at his phone like an idiot.

Biscuit looked over at him as if he knew something that Noah didn’t. “Stop looking at me like that, buddy,” Noah muttered.

Biscuit just grinned and wagged his tail.

Noah set his phone down on the counter. Not even thirty seconds later, he picked it back up. Apparently, he did that now.

He wasn’t trying to fall for Claire. He wasn’t even sure that’s what this was.

He just knew mornings were better when they started with Claire Bennett denying she secretly liked Biscuit and in desperate need of her iced latte.

The iced latte he had apparently started buying for her. The iced latte he was starting to think he was going to keep buying for her.

That evening, Noah was on the phone with his mom when suddenly he heard a ridiculous amount of banging and hammering coming from across the hall. He glanced toward his door, confused. “Hey, Mom.” He paused. “I’ve got to check on my neighbor. I think she’s having a crisis.”

“She?” his mom asked in a way that only moms do.

He let out a brief chuckle. “Not now, Mom. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you.”

“Come on, Biscuit. Let’s go see if she needs help,” he said. Biscuit, toy in his mouth, ran to the door. Noah stepped out, Biscuit behind him, and marched the three steps across the hall to Claire’s door.

He knocked. Waited. It sounded like something fell. Finally, Claire opened the door, breathless. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on in here?”

“I’m finally getting around to finishing my bookshelf,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“It sounds like you’re trying to murder your bookshelf.”

She huffed. “I am doing a fantastic job.”

“Is that what all the banging is?” he teased.

“Oh please, I am not being that loud.”

“You are. I hung up on my mother to come see if you needed rescuing.”