The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service

The dead language complaints had Nazim laughing. Her grumbling about Latin made Nazim think of his high school days when he'd zone out during those boring language classes - now it was actually fun to hear someone trash-talk a dead language. "Everything sounds better in Latin ... even the curse words," he said. Her revenge talk turned the boring gym into their own comedy show. The protein bar discussion made him think of all those awful ones he'd suffered through. "Skip those nasty bars ... my mom's börek is the real deal." Early mornings weren't so bad with someone to joke around with. Her Olympic athlete comments were gold. "Those Roman athletes needed coffee too ... we're basically following tradition."She kept roasting his workout advice and it was the best part. He liked knowing that she was miserable. Her whining told him he’s working her out well. "Here's my big secret ... burpees are awful." He kept track of her progress, then took over the weights when she finished. “It’s time for you to watch the experts work,” he teased, chortling.

"Sounds like we come from a line of guessers," Nazim said. His mom never wrote down a recipe in her life - she'd add a pinch of this, a dash of that, zero measuring cups in sight. It made him smile that Nikhil understood what it was like growing up with that kind of cooking. "My toaster's this cheap thing from Target I got last week. You know those number settings? Yeah, mine burns everything no matter what." The numbers on his toaster might as well have been written in hieroglyphics. one meant carbon, two meant charcoal, and anything higher was pure ash. He wondered if Target had a return policy for people who shouldn't be trusted with kitchen appliances. "Wait ... so your pizza delivery days are done too? Back home, my old delivery guy had my order down pat ... even the pineapple and jalapeno combo. A real meal prep routine would probably beat my current plan of, well, no plan at all." Finding someone who got his kitchen struggles while wanting to help fix them felt like striking gold. "About that toaster though ... I cranked it up to max thinking bigger numbers meant better toast. Rookie mistake?"

Nazim grinned at the bookstore plan - it was sweet and nerdy, which fit Irza and Ember perfectly. "That's a genius idea. I couldn't have thought it better myself. Way better than my skywriting joke." His mind wandered to all those competitive reading challenges they'd done at Read it 'n' Weep. "If she finds the ring right away, you'll know she's still got those sharp eyes from finding all those hidden book titles." The zombie scenario made him laugh. It was exactly the kind of wild idea that popped into his head at 3 AM. "Nothing says true love like holding hands while running from fake monsters," he chortled. The whole conversation felt surreal - his best friend planning to propose. A part of him wanted to tell Irza how proud he was, how far they'd both come. Instead, he raised his glass. "She's going to say yes. You two are perfect for each other."

"Ah, a Stanford guy. I've met a few like you." She's almost certain she's dated a guy or two that attended that place. The kind her mother would have loved. With an education to be proud of. The kind of school she had been urged to attend. And though it was never Ava's style, she's quick to clear her throat, shake those thoughts away from her head that want to compartmentalize him to be just like the rest of them. That signature bright grin was returned to her face, with a nod as she began to lead him to the front of the home again. "Would you prefer to walk or drive? We can take my car. I usually drive clients to showings anyways. This time it'll be like a showing of the neighborhood!" Her hand was already digging through the Chanel bag hooked on her arm to locate the keys of the sports car in the driveway. "Oh, do you golf? The country club has a great course."

Nazim watched her reaction to Stanford change - maybe she'd met some real jerks from there. "Let's walk, I've been sitting at my desk too long today," he said. His SUV needed a good wash anyway, and the fresh air would be nice. He joked with her that yes, he golfed, but badly. The country club was going to get a laugh out of his backswing. His golf clubs were still in boxes somewhere, probably under his winter coats that he wouldn't need for months in this North Carolina weather. She knew this area like the back of her hand, and that grabbed his interest - being new here, he was dying for some local secrets. "I guess I should check out the country club. I think you should know … my golf game is lame. Think a flailing octopus and someone trying to swat a bee. It's a whole comedy show." Golf was never his strong suit, but it beat destroying another smoke alarm. At least on the course, the only thing he'd damage was his pride and maybe some grass.

The smell of spices from the Turkish spot on Foodies Boulevard made Nazim think of his mom's kitchen. "The food here is pretty amazing." The beach life got under his skin in ways he never expected. Each hello from a stranger, each wave from a shop owner, each shared sunset on the pier added up to something bigger than he planned. "You're right about the water and community. It's like the ocean has its own way of making you stay." The place had its hooks in him now ... good hooks, the kind that made you want to plant a garden and learn your neighbors' names. "And yeah, the food scene here is a total win. Never thought I'd say this, but those California spots don't even come close to what we've got here."

The numbers added up in Nazim's head - sharing pet costs with a stranger was weird but it is practical. All those vet bills and dog food costs would be way less scary split between two people. "I like your math on this," he said. She seemed to understand exactly what went into proper pet care. The shared custody concept started making more sense by the minute. "What about testing it out for two weeks? We can see if our schedules match up before going all-in. And you're right about dogs needing company during the day." Two weeks would be enough time to get over his control-freak tendencies - sharing responsibility for a living creature brought back some wild anxiety. But it was just a dog who needed double the love, and splitting the work actually sounded pretty sweet.

Nazim tried not to laugh at her acceptance of the coffee bribe. Maybe these early workouts had changed him into a morning person. "The trick is to trick your brain into thinking it's still in bed," he said. He couldn't help thinking this was exactly the kind of woo-woo nonsense that kept landing him in these situations, though low-key, a tiny part of him was kinda curious if it might actually work. The gym belonged to them at this hour - no waiting for equipment, no selfie-taking crowd. Her words about ending their friendship over food talk cracked him up. "My Instagram fitness career died after one post. My mom thought I was going through a crisis." He picked up some weights. "No macro talk, promise. But I brought snacks that won't make you gag." Having a workout buddy made 5 AM seem less crazy. "Think of this as you training like an Olympic athlete?" He moved to the bench press, happy she'd joined his pre-dawn exercise club.

Nazim listened as she spoke about Midtown versus Carriage Falls. "Local wisdom beats Google reviews any day," he said, mentally filing away the information for future reference. "Virtual meetings? Pure torture. I spend half my time fixing my hair in that tiny screen." When she revealed her interest in investing, his professional demeanor shifted to genuine curiosity. "Wait, you've been following our work?" The thought of someone actually paying attention to their progress made him oddly self-conscious. "That's … unexpected. In a good way." Her mention of the security firm background sparked his interest - it could be valuable for their upcoming security protocol upgrades. "Would love to hear more about your thoughts on this. Maybe over coffee at The Cozy Cup?" Just then, two cyclists collided right in front of them, their bikes creating an impressive tangle of metal and limbs. The riders were fine, but their pride seemed bruised as they awkwardly tried to untangle their bikes. He glanced at the Chief of Police beside him. "So … do you write tickets for bad cycling, or is that beneath your pay grade?"

Nazim got why Pearce cared about those cases - it bugged him too. His friend was being way too modest about dating a doctor. "Don't be ridiculous. She's happy with you. You're doing that thing again ... selling yourself short," he said. Seeing his friend this happy was awesome. The question about his own happiness made him think of Sloane instantly. "Yeah, I am. Really happy... the happiest I've ever been." He meant it completely. Life was just better with her in it, even though everything was still new. He wanted to tell Pearce all about her but keeping their relationship private felt special for now.

"Another drink would be great." Nazim wondered about Irza's proposal suggestions. He needed that extra drink just to survive hearing whatever wild schemes Irza had cooked up this time - though honestly, a small part of him was dying to know what ridiculous suggestion would come next. "Let me guess ... skywriting?" Thoughts of fluffy cloud letters spelling out cheesy declarations of love, made him snort. It was exactly the kind of cheesy, over-the-top thing that the male would do. "Getting scared at the haunted house might work. Sloane probably thinks fear is cute." He wasn't thrilled about making a fool of himself at a haunted house, but at least with Sloane there he wouldn't be the only one freaking out at every jump scare. The more he thought about it, the more he figured hanging out with Sloane at a haunted house might actually be fun.

The earthquake joke made Nazim laugh out loud. Nobody missed California's shaky ground situation. "Got to love the Carolina coast," he said. Though Axel stayed unclear about long-term plans, bringing up Shivani made his whole mood shift. It brought Nazim back to his own scary jump to Wilmington. "Finding your person changes everything," he said. Their lunch chat bounced along without trying too hard. This Southern beach town had snuck up and grabbed him. "Kind of wild how this worked out - a few months back I wanted to run back home. Now I can't believe I almost missed out on living by the beach."

He stared at his friend in disbelief. Someone actually wanted to tackle his mom's confusing recipes? His mind flashed back to countless kitchen disasters. "You really want to try those?" Nazim asked. "Mom never uses measuring cups or anything." Nikhil's excitement about cooking made him smile. The offer to share meal prep tips was exactly what he needed, especially since his pizza delivery guy knew him by name now. "I need your cooking secrets ... right now I order pizza at midnight because there's nothing in my fridge." When the male talked about missing his own pizza-ordering days, he chortled. A Sunday cooking lesson sounded perfect. He thought about how wrong he'd been about athletes before. "Good thing I got smarter before meeting you. Would've missed this friendship." Then came the investment offer, right there between talks about burnt toast and kitchen fails. He felt overwhelmed by his friend's kindness. "That's so nice of you ... I'll definitely ask about it later. But first, maybe show me how to make toast without burning it?"

Feigning a look of offence, Miles let out a faux scoff. "My acting is bad? I hadn't realized I was having a drink with Martin Scorsese over here. And what? You winning an Oscar with your acting? Just admit you're worried about keeping the story straight, mate." The teasing between the two of them would cease to end, and Miles couldn't stop the bubble of laughter erupting from him. "Oh, so handsome, rich, successful, and great personality aren't what you're looking for? Has anyone ever told you that you possess the worst taste?" Following a sip of his drink, Miles shook his head for added dramatics. "No crashing. I flew it perfectly. That's the story. And you can say Mike Tyson was on the plane too if you'd prefer. It's really not so bad if you don't remember, considering we can say you had one too many drinks that day. As for me, I've already got it figured out. You see, I'll just act like the very humble man that I am, and not want to gush about the fact that I saved our Vegas trip by emergency flying the aircraft." Perhaps the point was far from their reach–lost somewhere beyond Miles' imagination that had brought them to this point.

His drink almost went flying when Miles dropped that Scorsese reference. "Listen, I'll skip the Academy Awards, but at least my stories don't sound like a bad Netflix special … that's all you." The whole fake story thing was getting beyond extra. His brain kept screaming 'make it stop' while his friend rambled on about their supposedly perfect lives. "You're literally turning this into a blockbuster right now … and not in a good way." The drink in his hand became his lifeline through this ridiculous planning session. When Miles mentioned Mike Tyson, Nazim's drink nearly decorated the entire table. His mind went into overdrive, calculating all the ways this crazy story would explode in their faces. "Zero chance we're adding any boxing legends to this mess … and delete that whole pilot fantasy while you're at it." The male’s attempt at playing humble made him want to throw something. Their friendship thrived on being extra, but this was reaching new levels of absurd. "Let's bring it down about ten notches … Vegas happened, we survived, end of story."

He twisted his car keys between his fingers, his brain scrambling for words. Making her uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted. “No. Why would you think something is wrong?” The words came out soft and clumsy. He sounded like a total dork. “I’m good, really. Just got this new drone design stuck in my head. Work stuff, you know?” His smile came naturally this time when she seemed to believe him. The mention of food brightened his mood instantly. “Funnel cake sounds amazing. I haven’t had one since probably since college.” His body relaxed while they walked to his car. Just so you know, I might freak out during the scary bits. Engineering genius, total wimp with horror.” He couldn’t help but laugh as he opened the passenger door. Standing there, watching her slide into the seat, he realized he’d been making everything complicated in his head. She was right - no pressure, just two people hanging out. Yet his stomach did that weird flip thing when she smiled up at him.

He needed friends, and doing something nice for one was not a big deal. They weren’t friends yet, but there’s potential for it. “I want to. Call it a friend helping you out.” Nazim stopped for a second, thinking about their friendship. “Let me do something nice for you, come on. It’s like a gift to reconnect. He paid attention as Sloane talked about her tattooing. It’s all very fascinating. “You doin’ portraits and characters? That’s incredible. You must be really talented.” When Sloane teased him about getting his first tattoo, he turned red. He had a little laugh and shook his head. “If I ever decide to do it, I’ll hit you up first. Heads up, I might be a baby about it. Needles on the skin … no thanks.” Good for the people who liked that sort of stuff, but it would never be his thing. “Are your boys into art? How coold would it be if they’re want to be tattoo artists too?”

Nazim chortled at what Irza said about fun - his friend totally had his number about the haunted houses. Those jump scares would turn him into a total scaredy-cat, but hey, maybe Sloane would think it was cute? "You're right about having fun. I ... hope I don't make too big a fool of myself in there," he said. It hit him how much had changed since their Stanford days. The whole competition thing with Ember seemed kind of silly now. Here they were, talking about rings and proposals. "Pretty crazy how life works out. You guys went from trying to beat each other's scores to falling in love." Something about seeing his friend this happy made everything feel right. He lifted his bottle up. "And thank god for Pearce keeping you from buying something weird looking." The truth was, seeing Irza and Ember find each other made him wonder if maybe his own love story was about to start, right here with Sloane.