On her phone screen, Nina stared at the balance of her bank account, pondering ways to nudge it up. With the money she had earned from the collaboration with Bo, she could cover a few months' rent in Bangkok, but if she didn't sign new clients soon, she would find herself broke and alone in a foreign country. When she left Croatia, her plan was to stay in Bangkok at least a year, hoping that part of the inheritance her father left her would arrive by then. She hadn't planned on spending that money but intended to use it as a safety net. If things continue as they were, she would have to consider returning home in no more than two months.

The thought of having to live with her mom and sister again made her groan. After her father had died, things got progressively worse, and without him to take Nina's side, her sister Rita took every opportunity to make her life hell. Since she didn't work, Rita had too much free time, which she loved to spend making Nina miserable. There was a time when she tried to make it as an influencer, but she never managed to monetize those minimal efforts.

It was time for Nina to search for new gigs. She frantically opened the Bangkok Digital Nomads Facebook page to check the upcoming networking events. The Women in Tech meetup was scheduled for Friday, which looked promising. She noted the address in her calendar. She also found information about a group of expats that met weekly for coworking and lunch. She sent a message to the organizer to announce her attendance. Then she looked into her folder of potential new jobs. It was filled with expired offers from her old firm and other projects she deemed uninteresting at the time they had arrived.

"There are no more uninteresting projects," she muttered to herself, scrolling through the documents. She sent an email to her former bosses, letting them know she had some free time. When she felt she had made enough effort to find a new gig, she decided to finally stock up her fridge.

Emmi was leaving in ten days, and Nina couldn't get used to the idea. In the past few days, she had started using the Bumble BFF app again, hoping to find a new kindred spirit in the foreign land, but with little luck.

"Maybe it's time to focus on work instead of socializing anyway," she rationalized. Then a thought she had been trying to push away since morning resurfaced.

"Bo still hasn't called," she got up from her desk and glanced at her phone to see if anything had come through, even though she had the sound on and would have heard if a message had arrived.

Should she call him?

It had been two very slow days since the birthday party, and she hadn't heard a peep from him. The day after, she woke up in a pink cloud, thinking about all the wonderful things ahead. She imagined their next meeting. Would he ask her out? Maybe he would just show up at Z-Coffee and surprise her? Then she remembered that in a particularly drunken moment, she had insisted on coming over to cook for him and Anan on Tuesday. Why Tuesday? She couldn't remember, but at that moment it seemed important that it was exactly that day. As the day went on, the pink cloud dissipated more and more, and the uncomfortable feeling at the back of her neck grew stronger.

She spent the worst night ever, waking up every few hours, checking her phone and struggling to get back to sleep. When she woke up that morning and saw nothing had come through, she felt defiant and decided once again she didn't need love in her life. She had been without it until now and hadn't been any worse off for it. She drank her coffee, trying to come up with excuses for Bo's silence, then gave up and made herself breakfast with the last two eggs in the fridge.

When she returned from the store with heavy bags in her hand and sweaty armpits, she almost jumped at the sound of a message arriving. This reaction had become almost normal in the last two days. It was her former boss, kindly explaining that they had hired new developers and currently didn't have extra work they could pass on to her. Her mood plummeted. As she was putting vegetables and jars of yogurt into the fridge, she dreaded having to spend the winter back home. Imprisoned with Rita and her mother.

She peeled a mango with slow and clumsy movements and filled a bowl with its slippery slices. Lying on the couch, with Netflix on, she buried her phone under one of the cushions, promising herself she wouldn't look at it at least until one episode of "Blue Eye Samurai" was over. Her favorite show didn't provide enough distraction though, and she soon found herself scrolling through Instagram reels with the show playing in the background. A message came from an unknown number.

Nina, hi, it's Anan. Bo says you're coming over to cook tomorrow? You have no idea how happy that makes me. I haven't seen anyone except Bo's ugly face for weeks. When should we expect you?

Nina frowned. Why did she get a message from Anan? Did Bo have a problem with her? Why? Maybe he didn't want her to come to his place at all but didn't know how to tell her. She wanted to cancel dinner but felt sorry to disappoint Anan. Bo had told her Anan was feeling down, and that was the reason she suggested the stupid thing. She had no idea what to cook; Bo probably didn't have any olive oil or Mediterranean spices needed to prepare dishes she was used to. "How did I get myself into this mess?"

On Saturday, everything had been perfect. "If I hadn't agreed to jump with Bo, we wouldn't have kissed, and I wouldn't be sitting here now, wondering if I crossed some invisible line. Maybe it's considered rude in China for a girl to invite herself to someone's house?" She decided to ask ChatGPT.

–

The next day at six in the evening, Nina stood in front of Bo's building with three large plastic bags digging into her fingers. Bo had later messaged her, asking what she needed to make dinner and offered to get the groceries. But Nina was irritated by his behavior and didn't accept his help. She had to set one of the bags on the ground to ring the intercom.

Nervousness engulfed her since waking up in the morning and she had spent the day browsing online cooking portals in search of inspiration. As most traditional Croatian dishes required several hours, or even days, of preparation, she quickly dismissed those. In the end, she settled on a simple dish her grandmother often cooked for her, which was relatively easy and quick to prepare: pasta a la carbonara. As a side, a green salad went perfectly, which she bought along with bacon, cream, eggs, and noodles in a large supermarket near Bo's building. She also got a bottle of red wine (which she noted was terribly expensive in Southeast Asia) and a piece of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

She tried not to think about the dent the supermarket bill made in her already depleted, meager bank account. If the whole kissing incident on Saturday hadn't happened, she would have been glad to spend the evening in Bo's company. But since she got the message from Anan, she decided to focus on him and do everything she could to cheer him up. Whatever Bo thought about their situation, it was his business, and she tried not to let her insecurities dampen her mood. If Bo wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them – as far as she was concerned – that was fine.

"It's Nina," she said in her best cheerful voice when Bo answered the intercom.

"Come up," he said, buzzing the door open. This was already her second visit to Bo's apartment, she recalled. Maybe she should have brought a gift? You're cooking them dinner, silly, she reminded herself. Bo greeted her at the door, and she noticed he didn't have his usual home look; he looked almost as if he were going out for dinner.

"Someone dressed up," she teased. Bo hurried to relieve her of the heavy bags, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. Nina's resolution to act like nothing was going on between them began to wane just as she stepped through the door. Bo stood beside her with the bags in his hands while she took off her sandals. She had opted for her simplest jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt.

"I'm really glad you're here," he said. "Anan's been on cloud nine since this morning. He hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Is that so? Well I'm glad to be here," she said, setting her sandals aside. Together, they headed towards the living room, Bo for some reason let her walk ahead of him, which she found a bit odd considering the weight of the bags he was now carrying.

Anan was sitting on the couch with his injured leg propped up, and right beside him, with her head in his lap, laid Stormy, who barked and jumped down from the couch when she saw Nina approaching.

"Hi Anan, hi Stormy, I didn't know you were joining us for dinner," she laughed, briefly crouching beside the dog to pat her. The dog greeted her with a wagging tail and an attempt to lick her face.

"Shampoo went out of town for a few days, so she dumped her on me," Bo called from the kitchen.

"Great, I'll get to hang out with Stormy as well. How's the leg?" she asked Anan, standing up and heading to the couch.

"Nina dear, just seeing you makes me feel better. I finished the last episode of a 30 part submarine series an hour ago. I think I'm over it for a while. I've been bored for days. Bo is great and all, but no one will blame me if I say I was craving a refreshment in the form of someone else's face," he said, smiling.

"I'm glad that you're feeling better," she said, glancing at Bo, who was placing the bags on the kitchen table. "Bo, can you please put the ice cream in the freezer?"

"You brought ice cream?" Anan's smile widened, and his eyebrows shot up. "You're amazing. If you didn't exist, we'd have to invent you, right Bo?"

Bo was just opening the freezer door, so Nina couldn't see his expression. "It's true," he said, closing the freezer. "You're amazing," he continued, looking straight at her. They gazed at each other across the room in silence until Stormy nudged Nina's knees with her snout, demanding more attention.

"Hold the compliments until everyone's full," she laughed, refocusing on Stormy, grateful to have something to direct her attention to.

Since Anan was immobilized, Bo was her only helper in the kitchen. After they opened the wine and supplied Anan with his preferred beer, Bo started to cut the bacon into even pieces as Nina instructed him.

Elbow to elbow with him, she was busy grating Parmesan, fully aware of their closeness. Her knees felt weak, his closeness made her brain foggy, and she low key worried about burning the house down. Bo reached around her to get another knife from the drawer, brushing her shoulder with his chest. She turned to face him with a questioning look. He raised his eyebrow.

"This one isn't very sharp," he said, gesturing to the knife he set aside.

Nina glanced at Anan, who had his back turned, adjusting the next song on the Spotify playlist. She wondered how deliberate Bo's move was. He could have easily taken a step back to get the knife without practically hugging her. Her heart pounded wildly, and she cleared her throat, trying to shake off the tingles cruising her body. Bo took a sip of his wine.

"I'm really glad you came," he said quietly, taking advantage of a loud part of the song Anan had chosen. Nina smiled slightly, not looking up from the mountain of cheese in front of her.

When she started frying the bacon, Stormy planted herself next to her and didn't leave her side until dinner was ready. The three of them sat around the low table in the living room with an equal amount of steaming bowls. Bo gave Stormy her dinner to ensure peace while they ate.

"Nina, this is a masterpiece," Anan declared after taking his first bite. "Creamy and crunchy at the same time! How did you know I love bacon?"

"Bacon is a pretty safe bet," she smiled, helping herself to a bite.

"Speaking of masterpieces, what do you think of Bo's latest painting?" he asked.

Bo coughed forcefully at that moment. "This is really good. You said your grandmother used to cook this for you?"

Nina was confused. "Wait, wait, painting? You paint?" she asked, jerking her head towards Bo.

"Anan misspoke, he is talking about the latest tattoo I did yesterday. A huge piece across the back and legs. It really is a masterpiece" he replied, glancing sideways at Anan.

Anan looked confused for a brief moment. "Man, stop being so modest. I peeked into the studio on my way to the bathroom yesterday. What you're working on now is seriously awesome. Some might even say revolutionary."

Bo was silent, staring at Anan. Then he turned to Nina and explained, "It's just a hobby, I sketch, it's nothing serious."

"Those definitely aren't just sketches. I don't understand why you hide them, Nina can be discreet. Right, Nina?"

Nina looked from one to the other with furrowed brows. "Of course. I'd love to see your work," she said, pinning Bo with her eyes and wondering what she would have to be discreet about.

Something seemed to change Bo's decision to keep his art a secret. "I'll show it to you, but not tonight. We're celebrating Anan's recovery. It's not the right mood for those topics."

Nina was intrigued. She knew Bo loved horror themed tattoos and was now very curious to see his "sketches". She hoped she would soon have the chance to delve deeper into the hidden world of his subconscious, the thought of gaining insight into his mind excited her.

Her attention shifted to Stormy, who was trying to nudge Bo's arm, making grumbling sounds. Bo laughed wide, his dimples prominent.

"Looks like Stormy needs a pee break," he said.

A chance to get some fresh air seemed to her like a good idea. "Are you going for a walk? Can I join you?"

"Deal," he said, standing up and starting to clear the dishes from the table.

"Yeah, yeah, you kids go have fun and leave poor Anan here to rot," Anan joked, pretending to be offended.

But Nina was already getting up. "Hang in there, buddy, we'll be back soon."

Stormy understood what was happening and was overcome with excitement. She walked between Bo and Nina, wagging her tail and looking at them with hopeful eyes.

"Can you get her ready while I put these in the dishwasher, her leash is by the door," Bo suggested, holding their bowls. Nina nodded and headed towards the door with Stormy following closely.

"Let's go, yes, yes, let's go," Nina crooned, patting the dog's head. She found the leash on the hanger, and Stormy obediently sat as soon as she saw Nina holding it. However, she still had trouble containing her excitement, and the room was filled with the sound of her tail thumping on the carpet. Just as she clipped on the collar and put on her sneakers, Bo appeared beside them.

"Great, you're ready," he winked at Nina, making her insides melt.

The evening provided relief from the relentless heat, and both of them sighed contentedly as they stepped out into it. There weren't many other pedestrians, but every now and then a motorbike would whiz by.

"I'd love to let her off the leash, but these bikes worry me," Bo said. "In the park, I can let her run free. It's fun to watch her socialize with other dogs." Stormy was already on a mission, nose pressed to the ground, sniffing for signs of intruders on her territory. Nina walked contently beside him, her hand itching to be held.

Bo pointed towards the park across the street. "We're heading there," he said, quickening his pace. Once they closed the park gate, he took Stormy off the leash, and she ran towards a medium-sized mutt who was carelessly sniffing around, unaware of what was coming. They sat on a nearby bench, side by side, and Bo sighed. Nina could no longer suppress her curiosity.

"When did you start painting?" she asked.

He laughed. "It's funny, it's very similar to how you started with computers and design," he began, shifting on the bench to get more comfortable. Nina remained silent. "When I was really little, before I could even read, I entertained myself by flipping through my dad's art books. I remember they had colorful covers and illustrations. So I grew up marveling at Rembrandt's bronze etchings, admiring classical and renaissance buildings and sculptures. All of that really fueled my imagination," he recalled. "I think I even remember some of Picasso's engravings."

Nina imagined Bo as a little boy, sitting on the floor with a big heavy book in his lap. The thought warmed her heart, and she instinctively stroked his forearm. Bo chuckled.

"Later, when I was a teenager, one of our neighbors was a high school art teacher and often came over to check up on me. One day he suggested I come with him to learn drawing. I didn't have anything better to do, so I agreed," he continued, turning to Stormy, who was trying to get the other dog to chase her, barking at him and taking a playful stance.

"I kept painting because it calmed me down. The focus it required led me to detach from other things and gave me release. Maybe it was a kind of escapism, I still wonder today. But art doesn't really pay the bills, so I stuck with tattooing, which requires similar focus and offers a similar kind of release."

"Now I'm even more eager to see your work," Nina admitted.

Bo laughed again. He looked at her, "Is that so?" he asked.

Nina was surprised by the question and looked at him with raised eyebrows. His face was so close, shaded by memories of childhood, he looked almost fragile. She was mesmerized. She opened her mouth, confused, and said, "Well, yes, I'm really curious about what's in your head."

"Right now, absolutely nothing," he said, cupping her chin to keep it steady. The corner of his lips curled as he brought his mouth closer. Nina let out a soft sound when she felt his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the gentle, slippery caress he subjected her to. His hand slid to her neck, and his touch on her bare, sensitive skin sent tiny electric shocks throughout her body.

"I wanted to do this from the moment you walked through the door with those huge bags," he said, breathless, and continued with the gentle teasing of her trembling lips. Nina was at a loss for words. In response, she offered him her tongue, which he generously accepted into his mouth and welcomed with a gentle caress.

Stormy barked. She sat beside their bench, protesting loudly. Nina was the first to gather herself.

"What's up, Stormy, does your friend not want to play with you?"

"Wait, I have something," Bo said, standing up and pulling a ball out of his backpack. Stormy was finally satisfied when the two of them started playing catch, with her running between them trying to steal the ball.

In Nina's mind, thoughts started a similar game of bouncing around. What was this? If he's interested in me, why didn't he reach out? She looked at him, tossing the ball. Just because he wants something doesn't mean he wants something only with you. One particularly nasty thought peeked out, and Nina felt her heart pound and an unpleasant feeling spread through her chest. While you were sitting at home by the phone waiting for his message, he might have been in this very park with someone else having a great time. After that thought, her mood plummeted, and suddenly she couldn't play anymore.

"It's getting late, I should actually head home." she said when he came back with the ball in his hand, which had ended up under the bench.

"Right now? Are you sure? I can take you – "

"No need, I came with my bike," she said nervously, not knowing how to end the encounter. It would be strange to Anan if she didn't return to the apartment. But the unpleasant feeling didn't leave her, and she just wanted to get away.