“I hate to bother you but…my truck won’t start.” The shame drifted over her face.

“Maybe you should upgrade like I recommended.”

“I know.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t get rid of it. It means too much.”

Honestly, the fact that she didn’t mind driving a piece of shit made me more attracted to her. She wasn’t superficial or shallow—like me. “Let’s take a look.” I shut the door behind me and walked with her.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

Her eyes softened when she looked at me.

Why the hell did I just say that?

I popped her hood then examined it. Then I went to the truck and tried to start it. The engine wouldn’t even turn over. “Your battery is dead.”

“It is?”

“You must have left your lights on. The nice thing about having a newer car is they have precautions against that.” It was a subtle jab.

She rolled her eyes. “I had a shoot yesterday and I was in a hurry. I must have forgot.”

I walked to my car then pulled the spark plugs out of the truck. “It’s okay. I’ll jump start your car.” After I plugged everything in and started my engine, I charged her battery for a few moments. Then I killed my engine then stowed everything in the truck.

“Can I turn it off?” she asked.

“No, let it run for a few minutes. It’ll charge your battery.”

“On it’s own?” She seemed surprise.

“Yeah. The engine will take care of it.”

“Cool.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her old truck.

“Your boyfriend was unavailable?” The resentment was heavy in my voice. I couldn’t deny how much I hated him. I despised him. My words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She didn’t pick up on it. “He’s at work.”

“Shocking…” I needed to hold my tongue.

She turned to me. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.”

She turned off her engine then grabbed the keys. “I’ll make sure I turn off the lights this time.”

“Good thinking.”

We walked back up the stairs and to our apartments.

“Are you doing anything right now?” she asked.

I stilled. “No.”

“I made lunch. Are you hungry?”

Yes. But I should say no. It was hard for me to be around her. Really hard. “Sure.” No! Why did I just say that?

“Great.” She walked inside and I followed her.

Her apartment was half a living room, and half a studio. Pictures littered the tables in messy piles. Her camera and different lens’s were across the table. Photos hung from strings from the ceiling. I stared at them for a moment, examining each one.

“Excuse the mess,” she said. “But I thrive in clutter.”

“I’m not judging you.”

“Your apartment is so clean and organized. I feel like a slob compared to you.”

I shrugged. “In my neuroscience course I learned that people who are messy are more creative.”

“I never knew that.”

“It explains why my sister is a pig.” I laughed lightly.

“I feel a little better then.” She walked into the kitchen and opened the oven.

When she was distracted, I examined her pictures. Most of them were of her sister. They had the same eyes and the same face structure. But there was no doubt Alaska was the more beautiful one.

There was one of Alaska. It was a candid shot, one that was taken without her knowledge. She was sitting on the beach with her knees pulled to her chest. Her hair blew in the breeze, and a small line of sunblock was on her nose. I couldn’t stop staring at it. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

“I hate that picture.”

I flinched when I realized she was next to me. “Why?”

“I just don’t like taking pictures. I’m not photogenic like my sister. She’s a natural.”

“You look beautiful.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Jace always makes fun of me for that one. He says I look sad.”

“Were you sad?”

“No…I was just lost in thought.”

Her boyfriend sounded like a dick. “Your sister should be taking pictures of you, not the other way around.” I really needed to shut my mouth.

“You’re sweet.” She sauntered to the table. “But I know my sister is the pretty one.”

She couldn’t be more wrong. I turned to her coffee table and saw picture frames. One caught my attention. Her boyfriend had his arm around her, and they were both smiling at the camera. He was a good-looking guy, but I hated looking at him.

“I hope you like tortellini.”

I came to the table and sat across from her. “It looks good.”

She ate with grace and kept her back straight.

I took a bite then marveled at the taste. “This is good.”

“I made it from scratch.”

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“My nana. She used to be a chef before she retired.”

“If I keep living next door to you, I’m going to get fat.”

She smirked. “I feel bad for my kids. They’re going to be little fatties.”

When I imagined her having kids with her boyfriend I wanted to hurl.

“Everything okay, Ash?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to hide my emotions from her. “What did you do last night?” I already knew what she did but I tried to make conversation.

“Jace and I went out to dinner.” The sadness was in her voice.

“It doesn’t sound like you had a good time.”

She picked at her food but didn’t eat it. “We haven’t been the same in a long time. Sometimes I get frustrated because I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Relationships shouldn’t be this difficult. He either treats you right or he doesn’t. And it’s pretty clear he doesn’t.”

She eyed me from across the table. “I guess I’m holding on to what we used to be.”

“Then you should let go.” I really wanted her to dump him. I knew I didn’t have a chance with her, but I preferred it if she was with a good guy, someone that made her happy and did everything possible just to make her smile.

She dropped the subject and finished her lunch. “I couldn’t eat another bite…” she rested her hand on her stomach.

“Where do you hide it?” I gave her a light smile.

She snickered. “I usually jog in the mornings. If I didn’t, I’d be obese.”

I doubted that for some reason. I picked up our dishes then carried them to the sink. Then I started to wash them.

“You don’t have to do that.” She grabbed the dish, our hands touching.

My breath hitched as soon as I felt her warm skin.

“You’re my guest. And you helped me.”

I released the dish and stepped away, wanting space to be between us. “Thank you for lunch.”

‘Thanks for being a wonderful neighbor.”

“Yeah…” I needed to get out of here.  “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” She walked with me to the door then she opened it. “Ash?”

I stepped out then turned around. “Hmm?”

“Is everything okay? You seem a little…down.”

Dying inside was a better way to describe it. “I’m just tired.” I never lied before. I was used to blurting out the truth no matter how insensitive it was. But I couldn’t tell her the truth.

Because I didn’t even know what the truth was.

I walked into Mrs. Patelo’s room with her chart in hand.

She smiled the second she saw me. “You’re back.”

“Yep, back to my clinical rotation.” I sat in the stool and looked over her blood work. “How are you liking your kindle?”

“It’s wonderful. I love it.”

“Good. Find any new books?”

“I found this new book called Fifty Shades of Grey. Have you heard of it?”

I smirked, feeling my face tint. “I’ve heard a few things…”

“Well, it’s on the bestsellers list so I thought I’d give it a try.”

She’s in for a treat. “At least you aren’t reading Harry Potter again.”

“I will again. But I thought I’d look for something new.”

I flipped through her papers and made a few notes.

“Why couldn’t you be my physician last week?” she asked.