Chapter 1: The New Neighbour
Ted adjusted his collar as he stepped out of his flat, keys in one hand, tote bag in the other. The clouds hung low over Leeds, threatening rain but not quite committing. As he locked the door, he noticed the moving van across the street—plain, white, with the words Henderson’s Haulage stamped on the side in fading blue.
Another tenant for Number 47, then. That place changed hands more often than the kebab van changed grease.
A man stood at the back of the van, effortlessly lifting a box that looked like it had no business being hoisted so easily. He was tall—very tall—with a frame built like someone sculpted out of solid gym hours and protein shakes. Broad shoulders, thick thighs, forearms like they’d wrestled a bear and won. He was wearing an old Leeds Rhinos hoodie and joggers that made Ted’s brain short-circuit a bit.
Ted blinked, then looked away. Leeds was full of handsome blokes. Muscles didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was just delivering furniture.
The man glanced up.
Ted looked down. Pretended to check his phone. Walked faster than was natural.
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He thought that was it. Just a random encounter. But then—
At the flower shop that Saturday—his usual morning ritual before heading to the Kirkgate Market—there he was again.
The same man.
Aaron.
Ted only knew because the shopkeeper, Maggie, chirped his name when he walked in. “Oh Aaron, those lilies you like are in the back. I’ll get them.”
Ted paused, half reaching for a bunch of ranunculus. Aaron turned slightly, caught his eye, and gave him a little nod. Not a smile. Not a frown. Just… a nod. Like, yes, I see you again. The world is strange.
Ted panicked, grabbed the flowers closest to his hand (a slightly crushed bunch of carnations), and quickly paid before his ears betrayed him by glowing bright red.
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By Wednesday, it was officially weird.
Because Ted saw him again. At the gym. His gym.
Aaron was on the rowing machine, pulling with perfect form, headphones in. Not grunting, not huffing, not even sweating. Just focused. Like a robot. A very attractive robot.
Ted got on the treadmill and stared at the screen, pretending not to notice him. He lasted four minutes before tripping over his own foot and slamming the stop button.
Aaron didn’t even flinch. Just looked over with a blank expression that might have had concern in it, but also might’ve just been his face.
“Alright?” he asked.
Ted gave a thumbs up, breathless. “Yeah. Just… training for the Olympics.”
Aaron blinked. “Nice.”
Then went back to rowing.
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By Friday, Ted had resigned himself to fate.
There he was again, this time at the Red Stag pub—Ted’s safe haven. His favourite Friday night escape. Aaron sat at the bar, pint in hand, chatting—well, mostly listening—to some bloke in a suit going on about tax law.
Ted slid into the booth with Ken, who raised an eyebrow. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen your celebrity crush in the wild.”
“I think I’m being stalked,” Ted muttered, peeking over the rim of his glass.
Ken followed his gaze. “What, Mr. Shoulders? You’ve got a type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“You literally described your type last week and it was exactly that man.”
Ted sank into the booth. “Why is he everywhere? Is he haunting me? Did I wrong him in a past life? Did I accidentally seduce him with eye contact?”
Ken snorted into his pint. “Maybe the universe is matchmaking. Leeds is small, mate. And he’s fit. If he’s single, maybe just say hi?”
Ted groaned. “I can’t. What if he thinks I’m the weird one? What if I am the weird one?”
Ken shrugged. “Well, then you’ll be weird and in love. Very on-brand for you.”
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Outside, as Ted left the pub later than planned, he bumped—literally—into Aaron, who was just leaving too.
Aaron steadied him with one hand. “Sorry.”
“No, that’s—totally fine. My fault. I was looking at my phone and thinking about soup.”
Aaron paused. “Soup?”
“Yeah. You know. Rain. Soup weather.”
Aaron nodded, like that was the most logical thing he’d ever heard.
Ted stood there, awkward and wired from two beers.
Aaron offered a small, polite smile. “Well. See you around.”
Then he walked off into the drizzly night, leaving Ted under the pub light, staring after him with a heart doing Olympic-level gymnastics.
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