coffee taste good out of my dad’s mugs, but wine works as well and that reading erotic romance novels pales in comparison to the real deal.
I miss Damian. Emily’s story was all over the news and photos of Damian and his family were plastered everywhere. He won. Emily will be in his family forever, and he didn’t have to break his promise to Megan to make it happen. I wanted to drive up and congratulate him in person, tell him I miss him, and see if it was time to finally move forward, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Sending him a four word text instead “I’m proud of you.” His response, “I love you.” Those three words made me smile for the first time in two months and my fingers moved over the screen on my phone, quickly texting him back. “I love you too.”
“I know. I’ll see you soon.” he instantly responded. The texts stopped there, and now four weeks later, I haven’t heard a peep. Emily is living with his parents in Malibu, and I can only assume Damian is a short twenty-minute drive away, as well.
Mia and Paige haven’t bumped into him, and they refuse to drive by my old apartment. Something I’m both thankful for and hating at the same time. I want to know what he’s doing, where he’s going and if he ever stops to think about me, or if he’s moved on.
My life has fallen into a comfortable routine, and this move proved one thing. I’m stronger than I thought. Leaving Santa Barbara was the best decision I’ve ever made. Being away from memories that remind me how lonely I was at times has given me a fresh look on life, but I miss Damian. He’s my one missing link and I need him in my life.
Voices in the hallway grab my attention. The apartment next door has been vacant since I moved in, but it sounds like that’s not going to be the case anymore.
“Hey, don’t drop that.”
I open my door to spy on the new neighbor. Santa Monica is a city on the beach. Anyone from a writer to a teacher, a single parent, or an attorney could be moving in. Any and all walks of life live here, and even though I’m only a two-hour drive from where I grew up, I feel like I’m experiencing life for the first time.
Movers are traipsing up and down the stairs, furniture, paintings, and boxes in their hands. Jeez, how big can that apartment be to need four Damian-sized men to move everything in?
Something red is wedged between a mover’s arm and body, and I squint my eyes to make it out, trying to get an idea of who is moving into apartment 2B. Whatever it is, it looks familiar. The mover pulls it out of his arm and places it on top of the mattress he and another man are carrying into the doorway.
My heart thumps and my mouth dries. It can’t be.
The men make it all the way through the door jam leaving the hallway wide open.
Except for Damian.
Tall and broad, he is taking up all the air in the place. His arms are crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging under his short-sleeved black T-shirt. That grin, it’s lopsided, the left side of his mouth quirked up adding a light to that dark and intense gaze.
It hurts to breathe. I’ve lived without this view for three months, pouring over news broadcasts and magazine articles to get a glimpse of the man I walked away from. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing him in the flesh.
“You brought the pillow.” I finally spit out.
His grin widens. “I can’t sleep without it.”
“We’re neighbors.” I say, pointing out the obvious.
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yep. I’ll be living right next door.”
Uncrossing his arms, he takes a slow and steady step towards me. “I missed your mugs.”
The backs of my eyes are burning, tears threatening to fall at any moment. My breath is coming up short and I’m sure I’m going to pass out. He continues to advance, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes studying my reaction to his presence.
“I missed your abs.”
His body stills, and he stands a mere two feet from my grasp. He begins to gently laugh, the line of tension slipping away. Removing his hands from his pockets, he grabs the back of his shirt and swiftly pulls it over his