Chapter 3
NICHOLAS
Danika.
Her name played on repeat in my head like a glitch in the system I couldn’t debug. I’d tried. Meetings, calls, code reviews—none of it helped.
She wasn’t just beautiful—though, God help me, she was definitely beautiful.
But what was most interesting about her was the way her brain worked.
The strategy, the curiosity…the way she saw solutions before anyone else even spotted the problem.
Smart was sexy. And Danika was dangerously, devastatingly smart.
Which was how I ended up standing outside 16D, holding a bouquet of white tulips like some mid-century idiot “calling on” a woman.
Not exactly my usual M.O. I’m more of a “send the assistant, schedule the meeting” kind of guy.
But this? This felt like something that couldn’t go through an assistant.
Finding her condo number had taken all of twenty minutes—public records, old alumni pages, a few clicks…
I build systems that can track global behavior patterns.
Of course I could find one woman in Pleasure Valley.
In the process, I learned she was from Boise, moved here for college, and—apparently—never bothered locking down her digital footprint.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I pressed the doorbell and waited. I half-expected a voice through the speaker. Maybe a suspicious “Can I help you?” Instead, I heard a click, then there she was.
Danika. Hair pulled back, same Santa T-shirt and sweatpants she’d been wearing in the lobby that morning—plus lipstick, which I noticed immediately because apparently I’d lost all sense of professionalism.
“Hi,” she said, eyes flicking to the flowers, then back to me. “How on earth…?”
“Internet search,” I said, managing a small, hopefully non-creepy smile. “Your address is findable. You might want to fix that.” I hesitated, then added, “May I come in?”
She stepped aside, and I crossed the threshold into her space—small, cozy, organized but lived-in. The kind of place that actually felt like someone existed there, not like my sterile penthouse that could double as a showroom.
“These are for you.” I held out the tulips, suddenly feeling like an idiot. Flowers. What was I, twelve?
“They’re beautiful.” She took them, burying her nose in the petals. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s to thank you for all your help with the analytics.” The words came out too fast, too formal. “You’ve been incredible, and I wanted to—”
Something flickered across her face. Disappointment? It was gone so quickly I almost missed it, but I’d spent part of my time with her studying her expressions like they were data points.
“—and also because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a while,” I added quickly. “Actually, scratch that. Ever. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “I don’t lie about data, Danika. And that’s data.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “That’s not data. That’s an opinion.”
“Subjective observation backed by empirical evidence. My heart rate increases by an average of fifteen beats per minute when you walk into a room. That’s data.”
“You measured your heart rate?”
“I measure everything.” I grinned. “You should already know that about me.”
She laughed, shaking her head as she moved toward the kitchen. “Let me put these in water. And I was just about to order takeout if you want to stay? I’m thinking Thai, but I’m open to negotiation.”
“Thai works.” I followed her, watching as she filled a vase with water. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Pad see ew. Extra vegetables, medium spice.” She pulled out her phone, opening a delivery app. “You?”
“Panang curry. No vegetables.”
She looked up at me, horrified. “No vegetables? At all?”
“I’m not five. I eat vegetables. Just not in my curry.”
“That’s the best part of curry.”
“The best part of curry is the curry.” I leaned against the counter. “The vegetables are just taking up space that could be used for more protein.”
“You’re impossible.” But she was smiling as she added my order. “This is going to be a thing between us, isn’t it? The vegetable debate.”
“Between us.” I liked the sound of that. “So there’s an ‘us’?”
Her fingers paused over her phone. “I don’t know. Is there?”
“I’d like there to be.” I moved closer. “If you’re interested.”
“I’m interested.” She said it quietly, not looking up. “But I’m not…I don’t have a lot of experience with this. Dating, I mean.”
“You don’t date?”
“Not really.” She finished the order and set her phone down. “I’ve always been the girl guys think of as a ‘buddy.’ You know—tech stuff, shared interests, but never…romantic.” She finally met my eyes. “Maybe I should have a spreadsheet like yours. Try to optimize my approach.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “God, no. You don’t need that.”
“Why not? Worked great for you.”
“It didn’t work at all for me. That’s the point.
” I stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes.
“You don’t need to optimize or change or become someone else.
You need a man who’s smart enough to see what’s already there.
A man who’ll try to win you over, not the other way around. ”
She bit her lip. “I haven’t dated much. At all, really. And I’ve never…” She trailed off, color flooding her cheeks. “I’ve never been attracted to anyone the way I’m attracted to you.”
My heart stopped. Started. Raced.
“Say that again,” I said.
“Which part?”
“The attracted to me part.”
“You heard me.” But she was smiling now, nervous but real. “Don’t make me repeat it.”
“I might need you to repeat it. For data collection purposes.” I reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Need to verify accuracy.”
I kissed her then. Not because I didn’t want to hear the rest of her sentence—though I really didn’t need to hear her talk herself out of this. But because the idea that any man wouldn’t be interested in her was so fundamentally, categorically wrong that I needed to prove it.
She made a small sound of surprise, then melted against me. Her hands came up to my chest, fisting in my shirt, and I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She tasted like nutmeg.
When we broke apart, both breathing hard, I pressed my forehead to hers. “Any man who doesn’t want to be with you is an idiot. And I’m a lot of things, Danika, but I’m not an idiot.”
“You’re sure? Because I don’t know what I’m doing, and you’re probably used to women who—”
“I don’t care about other women. I care about you.” I cupped her face in my hands. “And for the record, inexperience isn’t a negative. It just means I get to be the one who shows you how good this can be.”
Her phone buzzed loudly on the counter, making us both jump. She grabbed it, checking the screen.
“Food’s here.”
“Of course it is.” I laughed, stepping back reluctantly. “Terrible timing.”
“The worst.” But she was grinning, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from our kiss. “I’ll just…go grab it?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“It’s literally in the lobby.”
“I know. But I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet.” I caught her hand, lacing our fingers together. “Call it data collection.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t let go. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You like it.”
“Unfortunately,” she said, pulling me toward the door, “I really do.”