my cold hands.
“Hey, you,” a familiar voice says from behind me.
I turn, surprised to see Samuel Christianson in front of me. “Oh hi.” Why God why? He’s dressed like he just worked out, light-gray sweats and a dark hoodie. I try not to stare at his groin. Stupid gray sweatpants.
“James mentioned you were moving into the apartment.” He pulls his keys out and gets the door for me. “How are you?”
“Great,” I say sarcastically. “Do you live here too?”
“Yeah, James was showing me my place and ended up buying his because he liked it so much. Said one day when they’re empty nesters, he and Liz could live here, or the kids could live in it for college.” He walks next to me to the elevator, and I realize we’re going to be in there together. Alone. Just us. And my forehead. God hates me. It’s official.
“I think I recall that.” The story of the apartment rings a bell.
“How’s the head?”
“Sore.” I press the button to go up. “So no plans for New Year’s except a hot bath and a long sleep. The first day back at work has me exhausted.”
“Yeah, screen time is the enemy of the concussed brain. The less you can be on there, the better. I suppose that’s not helpful with accounting.” He flashes a smile and I practically sigh.
Seeing him, I remember exactly why I fell for him the first time I laid eyes on him. Gorgeous dark eyes filled with mischief and delight, framed by thick inky lashes. A dimple in the right cheek. Plump lips over a perfect set of teeth. And something about his nose makes me happy. It’s sort of big, a strong nose. If that’s even a thing.
His dark hair was longer when he was younger but it’s just as thick now. I swear he’s taller though. He has to be six foot four, towering over me. His height was how I ended up in his arms in the first place. And still, I feel small next to him, something that doesn’t happen a lot being five foot nine myself, and fond of heels.
“Have you called the physio place I recommended?” he asks, snapping me out of my trip down memory lane as we step into the elevator. He pushes the eight. Do we live on the same floor?
“Physio?” I manage to ask, concerned about his living so close by.
“I gave the card to James. It’s a gym we both go to but there’s a physiotherapist who works there that specializes in sports medicine. She’s a concussion wizard.”
“Oh yeah. James put it on the fridge. I’ll have a look.” I vaguely recall the conversation and am now sweating because we’re both going to the eighth floor.
“Do, she’s amazing. You should have called already. The earlier you start the exercises, the better.” He turns to face me and leans in, invading my space as he reaches for my forehead, gently touching to inspect. “The swelling has come down considerably. I take it you’ve been icing.”
“Liz,” I mutter, certain he understands but also unable to say anything else with him so close. He’s part of the air I’m breathing, and he smells exactly the same.
“She is something. I’ve never seen such organization or leadership. Must be hard to be her sister,” he jokes and moves back a bit.
“You mean because I’m such a mess?” I ask, so flustered by this that I don’t manage to hide the fact I’m taken aback by the comment. “I’ll have you know, I was very average a week ago. Responsible, nice house in Bedford, good job, a schedule.”
The doors open but he’s blocking the way.
“Wait.” His cheeks flush. “That’s not what I meant. She’s intense and you’re—” He pauses, visibly regretting saying it but also trying to find the right word for me. “Peaceful. You’re peaceful to be around. Calming.”
“Calming?” I question the word, not certain it’s who I am. In fact, I know it’s not. He means boring and is trying to be polite. Accountants are always seen as boring, so he isn’t the first person to think it about me.
“Well, for the most part. Although, if I recall the summer we met correctly, you were a handful on many occasions.” He winks and I am undone. Not only embarrassed but also wishing we weren’t in an elevator as he brings it up.
“I hardly recall the summer,” I lie.
“You don’t remember that night on the roof of my building—?”
“No. It’s pretty fuzzy like everything else