The apartment building stood in soft dusk shadow, a three-story walk-up tucked between rows of old trees and garden walls. There wasn't much traffic on this street, just the occasional bark of a dog or a far-off car turning a corner. As Hriva and Jake climbed the last flight of stairs, the old iron railing rattled faintly beneath their touch, and the scent of garlic and olive oil grew stronger.
Hriva stopped outside Mira's door and adjusted the sleeves of her blouse, the fabric suddenly too warm against her skin. She looked back at Jake. He just smiled and reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You look perfect," he said gently.
She tried to smile, but her nerves were fluttering. "They don't know about you yet."
Jake leaned in, speaking just low enough that only she could hear. "Then let's tell them. Together."
She gave a small nod, still uncertain. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand and knocked.
A second later, Mira's voice called out from the other side. "It's open!"
Hriva pushed the door open.
The warmth hit them first. Mira's apartment had always been this odd, lovely combination of scents and soft light. A strand of fairy lights glowed around the ceiling. Pillows overflowed from the couch. The smell of baked cheese and fresh herbs wafted through the air.
"About time," Mira called out from the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder with flour smudged on her cheek. "I was starting to think you were standing me up again."
Before Hriva could say a word, Zara's voice piped up from the dining nook.
"She's been ghosting us for weeks."
"Don't act surprised," Niyah added smoothly. "She's clearly been nesting with someone. That's why her texts are dry and her presence is rare."
Hriva stepped inside, cheeks flushing. She opened her mouth, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, but then Mira turned around fully.
Her eyes locked on Jake.
And everything stopped.
"Oh my god," Mira whispered, her voice full of theatrical disbelief. "She brought a man."
Zara appeared a second later, eyes wide and sharp as she took in Jake's height and the way he stood so close to Hriva.
"Well," she said, folding her arms. "This just got interesting."
"Introduce him," Niyah said, now appearing with a fresh glass of wine. "And explain yourself. We deserve answers."
Jake looked over at Hriva, waiting for her cue.
Clearing her throat, she stepped closer to him, her voice calm but soft. "This is Jake. My… boyfriend."
There was a pause.
Then Mira grinned. "Boyfriend. Like, real relationship boyfriend?"
"Real as it gets," Hriva said, feeling Jake's fingers slip quietly into hers.
"Damn," Zara muttered. "And here I thought she was secretly in a 'just cuddling and drinking wine' phase."
Niyah sipped her wine and gave a knowing look. "She still could be. With benefits."
Hriva groaned softly and covered her face. Jake chuckled beside her, clearly trying not to laugh too loud.
Mira wiped her hands on a towel and came over, offering Jake a hand. "Mira. Longtime friend. Habitual instigator. Welcome to the madness."
"Thank you," Jake said sincerely. "You have a beautiful home."
"That'll get you halfway in," she said. "The other half depends on how well you survive dinner."
Zara and Niyah took turns introducing themselves with matching smirks and side glances at Hriva. Jake was charming, respectful, and somehow relaxed even as three women practically circled him like sharks wearing lipstick and earrings.
As they settled around the table, Mira placed a large dish of baked pasta in the center, the cheese golden and bubbling at the edges. There were small bowls of salad and bread, wine already poured.
Conversation moved easily at first.
But slowly, predictably, it turned toward the personal.
Niyah leaned over her plate, chin in her hand. "So, Jake. Serious question. Do you cook? Or are you the 'grill in summer, cereal in winter' type?"
Jake smiled. "I cook. Some meals even survive."
Mira laughed. "Better than most of the guys we've met. One set my kitchen towel on fire."
Zara looked at him, brow lifted. "Are you handy? Good with fixing things?"
"I can build a bookshelf," he replied. "And I know how to bleed a radiator."
"Sexy," Mira whispered loudly.
Hriva coughed into her napkin.
"What's your worst date story?" Niyah asked, eyes gleaming.
Jake leaned back slightly. "Does being tricked into salsa dancing count?"
"Oh yes," Mira said. "Bonus points if you had to wear a ruffled shirt."
Jake shook his head, laughing. "No shirt. But I did step on my partner's foot. Twice. She left before dessert."
Everyone laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy. Normal. Like this was the kind of dinner they'd all had a hundred times before, except now, Hriva's fingers were tangled with someone's under the table.
But then Zara leaned forward.
"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing like a cat ready to pounce. "But really. Jake. What's the most embarrassing thing you know about our girl here?"
Jake blinked. "Oh. Um…"
Hriva's head shot up. "Don't you dare."
Jake raised both hands in surrender, smiling like the temptation was very real.
"There's a video," he started.
"Jake!"
He grinned at her. "Of her trying to flip pancakes. It's not that bad."
"She hit the ceiling," he added with a chuckle. "And blamed the pan."
Hriva buried her face in her hands while her friends howled with laughter.
Zara clapped. "I love him."
Niyah nodded. "He's staying. No take-backs."
Jake looked at Hriva, his expression softening. His hand found hers again under the table.
"I'm just lucky she let me in," he said, voice lower now. "Into her life. Her people."
The mood shifted for a moment. Something quieter. Something sincere.
Mira raised her glass. "To letting good ones in."
They all echoed the toast.
As they continued eating, the room pulsed with light and comfort. Hriva could feel the way Jake's presence had settled into the group, not overpowering, not shy. Just steady.
And as the wine flowed, and the laughter rose again, she looked around at her friends, their flushed cheeks and bright eyes. She realized something.
This was what it meant to merge your world with someone else's. Not just the kisses and the handholding. But this. The gathering. The stories. The teasing that felt like home.
Jake leaned close and whispered near her ear.
"I like them."
She looked at him, her heart full.
"They like you too."
And they did. Because in the space of one dinner, he had gone from being the unknown to being one of them. Just like that.
Like he'd always belonged.