I stared at my kitchen while I felt his heated gaze on me.

“Alaska?”

“I just feel like our relationship isn’t the same anymore. You don’t look at me the way you used to. You’re always too tired after work to see me. You don’t touch me anymore. When we first got together, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, and now I’m lucky if you hold my hand. We used to have sex nonstop and now it seems like you aren’t interested in it anymore. And when we went to lunch the other day…you seemed more attracted to our waitress than you’ve ever been to me…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. The moisture built up in my eyes but I blinked them away. I tried not to be emotional around anyone. “If you aren’t happy anymore, I understand. If it’s time to call it quits, I accept that. But I don’t want to waste my time anymore. If you want to break up, then let’s do it. If our relationship is dead, it’s time we both walked away before we start to resent each other.”

He stared at me, his face unreadable. He took several minutes to process what I said. I didn’t think he would say anything at all because time stretched for so long. “I don’t want to break up.”

I wasn’t expecting him to say that.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty boyfriend to you. I let work and life weigh me down. It’s not you, Alaska. It’s me. I’m sorry I hurt you and made you question everything.”

I finally looked at him. “You still want to be with me?”

He grabbed my hand. “Of course I do. I guess I get caught up at work. When you see the things I’ve seen…sometimes it’s hard not to think about them.”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Yeah…”

He scooted closer to me on the couch. “I’ll be better from now on.”

That was all I needed to hear. “Okay.”

Later that night, I walked with him to his car.

“You didn’t need to walk me.” He held my hand while we stood in front of his car.

“I don’t mind. I prefer being outside anyway.”

“I’ve noticed.” He smiled slightly then kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

He gave me a warm kiss before he dropped my hand and got into his car. I waited for him to drive away and head down the road. I stood outside for an extra minute, relishing the cool breeze.

I expected to be single by the end of tonight, but surprisingly, he wanted to make it work. He said he would be different, be my boyfriend again. And so far, he kept his word. This is what I wanted, and I’m glad I said something to him. Perhaps if I had communicated better from the beginning, none of this would have happened. Maybe all of this was my fault.

A car pulled into the space beside mine. It was a white BMW, and it looked cleaner than a sterile surgery room. The engine was so quiet it was almost unnoticeable.

I decided to go back inside so I wouldn’t have to make small talk with one of my new neighbors. I headed up the stairs then turned to my apartment. I heard footsteps behind me, close behind me.

When I reached my door, I turned around.

The guy from the bar was staring at me, his eyes wide. He was standing in front of the apartment across from me, wearing light blue scrubs. His keys were in his hand.

I was so surprised to see him I didn’t know what to say. What are the odds of this happening? Judging the surprise on his face, he didn’t know what to say either. I felt bad for him. It was pretty clear he preferred meaningless sex instead of passionate relationships. He cared more about the expensive car he drove and the amount in his bank account instead of things that mattered, like friendship, love, and respect. It was a lot to gather from someone I only spoke to for five minutes, but as a photographer, I could read people pretty well. Body language and keen subjects gave me all the information I needed to know.

He kept staring at me, like he wasn’t sure if I was real.

Should I say hi? He was going to be my neighbor so I may as well get along with him. “Good night.”

Speechless, he watched me walk into my apartment. I had a feeling he was still there long after I shut the door.

I was nervous for my interview. I arrived at the gallery with my portfolio. In order to shake off the nerves I felt, I examined the art for sale. Getting lost in someone else’s world was a great way to feel calm.

I found a line of paintings on the wall. They were bright and beautiful. Each one featured a woman. She was wearing a sun hat with a yellow dress. She was in different places, sitting in a tire swing, walking a dog on the beach. And there was another that particularly caught my interest. The woman was wrapped in the arms of her lover. The sheets were smothered around them, covering their private areas. His chest was to her back and his face was nuzzled in her neck. The woman looked peaceful, safe. The detail of every aspect of the painting was phenomenal. I felt everything the painter wanted me to feel.

“Do you like it?” Rydell asked.

I was caught off guard by his presence. I didn’t even notice his approach. “It’s…wonderful.”

“It’s one of my favorites too.”

I needed to have it. “How much?”

He walked to the painting and checked the price tag. “Seven-hundred.”

Way out of my price range. “Oh.”

“This artist is very famous here in San Diego. But her work is worth every penny.”

“It really is.” I couldn’t stop staring at it.

A young woman appeared beside me. “You like it?”

I had no idea who she was. “It’s fantastic.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and a blush overcame her cheeks.

I cocked an eyebrow.

Rydell cleared his throat. “This is Livia, the artist.”

I turned back to her, surprised. She was so young but so talented. “You’re amazing,” I blurted.

“Thank you again.”

And she was humble. “But I can’t take all the credit. My boyfriend inspired this piece.”

“You two love each other very much,” I blurted.

She studied my face. “Are you an artist?”

I held up my portfolio. “A photographer. I’m hoping to sell my work in this gallery.”

“Can I see?” she asked excitedly.

“Sure.” I handed it over.

Rydell came beside her and they looked at it together.

They said nothing while they examined each piece. Rydell rubbed his chin while he looked over her shoulder. Livia didn’t blink every time she looked at a picture. Her eyes roamed to every corner.

Now I was really nervous.

“These are amazing,” Livia said. “They remind me of my own pieces.”

Wow. That was a compliment.

“I’m an awe too,” Rydell added. “I think it’s safe to say we’d love to feature your work here.”

What? Seriously? “Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“Yes.” Rydell smiled at me. “I don’t accept new artists very often, but I want these. I know people will buy them.”

My cheeks were starting to turn red.

Livia smiled at me. “Welcome to the family.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ash

I knew I had a new neighbor, but I had no idea it was her.

The hottest girl in the damn world.

I made such an idiot out of myself last time we spoke. She probably loathed me and thought I was a creep that had no game. Now I had to see her every day. I might run into her on Sundays when I went outside to grab the paper. We might check our mail at the same time.

I was doomed.

I had my clinical shift in the afternoon, so I decided to do my laundry in the morning. I usually got too distracted during the day, and a week would pass without getting it done. But I was out of gym clothes and underwear, so something needed to be cleaned.

I went down to the laundry room then opened the washer. There were delicates inside—woman’s delicates. A lacy black bra and a few thongs were inside. They were dry and abandoned. I looked around and realized no one was around. Perhaps they forgot their things?