“I can deal with the cold,” he continues, then groans, “the heat, though—Jesus. I could not sleep. I’ve been up for hours, moving boxes around the apartment. Finally, I had to come out for fresh air. You can only remove so much clothing, you know?”
Heat creeps up my chest. I scold myself. So what if he’s naked in his own apartment? I try to think of a witty response to cover the fact that I’m blushing, but I come up short. I sip my coffee instead. We exit the elevator with his last comment hanging between us.
“So, these are the mailboxes,” I say with flourish, breaking the silence, as we cross the small lobby. “Yours is next to mine.”
He smiles politely and gets the door. We’re blasted by cold air. I try to pull my collar up around my neck, but my hands are full.
“Need some help?” he offers.
I give him Ginger’s leash and my thermos so I can bundle deeper into my coat. “The diner’s to the right,” I tell him. “I’m going that way too.”
He gives me back the coffee but takes Ginger down the sidewalk as if she were his own.
Despite the cold, the sun is shining. I get a better look at him. He has a five o’clock, butter-blond shadow at seven o’clock in the morning. It’s a shade lighter than his coppery lips and shows off his high cheekbones. His is the kind of face you’d see in a movie. One I might’ve gone to as a teenager just because he was on the poster.
“Shit,” he states.
Because I’m paying attention to him and not where I’m going, it takes me a moment to understand. Literally—shit. I hop sideways just in time, narrowly avoiding a pile of dog poop. “Ugh.”
He grins. “Mondays.”
“Lazy assholes is more like it.”
“Spoken like a true city girl.” He smiles bigger. “Have you lived in the building long?”
“Four years yesterday.” We stop so Ginger can pee on her usual tree. “But I went to NYU. I’ve lived on the east side for over ten years.”
“So you hate it here.”
I laugh, and God, does it feel good. My dry cheeks crack like they’re made of concrete and I’ve hit them with a hammer. We continue walking, Ginger looking back at us every few seconds, as if we might disappear on her. My mood has lifted. Sometimes, in this city, talking to strangers is a burden. They want something—directions, money, time. I’m glad I stopped for my new neighbor, though. He’s chasing off the dark clouds that’ve been hanging around lately.
But then, he stops abruptly and groans. I get the sudden, intense feeling this walk is over. “I left my wallet in the apartment. Think they’ll let me open a tab?”
“Not a chance.” We’re a few feet from the crosswalk, and I nod across the street. “There’s the diner.”
“Okay.” He wipes his nose on his sleeve. Mine is also running a little despite the fact that the walk has warmed me up. I don’t believe he isn’t the slightest bit cold. “I better run back. I’m about to eat my hand.”
I don’t have to think twice. He’s helped me out just by making me feel better, and I want to return the favor. “I’ll spot you,” I say, digging in my pocket for cash. I keep forty bucks in my coat in case of dog-walking emergencies. Since I can hear his stomach grumbling from here, I give him both twenties. “Get the hash browns. Trust me.”
He takes the money. “You’re an angel. I’ll pay you back.”
“No problem.” I nod at Ginger, who pants, giving us her signature Golden-Retriever smile. “Consider it a thanks for your services.”
“For a ten-minute walk? Expensive pooch.” He hands me back the leash, then adds, “Unless you want to join me? My treat,” he teases.
I’m surprised by his invitation but even more so that I’m disappointed to turn it down. Hash browns and good company sound like a great way to spend the morning. “I should get to work,” I say with some reluctance. “Not everyone can make rent walking dogs.”
“Good point.” He grins. The walk signal begins to count down. Last chance to change my mind and play hooky from work. He holds up the money. “Thanks again.”
He jogs across the street toward the restaurant. I wonder what his name is. And why he isn’t also on his way to work on a Monday morning.
Except for him, the view from this corner is familiar. I’ve stood here more times than I can count. Ginger pulls on her leash. She knows this is where we turn back for the apartment. The sun is still out, but clouds edge the city. Alone again, any humor in my morning dissipates. My mood creeps back down to where it was earlier—where it’s been for months.
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About the Author
Jessica Hawkins is a USA Today bestselling author known for her “emotionally gripping” and “off-the-charts hot” romance. Dubbed “queen of angst” by both peers and readers for her smart and provocative work, she’s garnered a cult-like following of fans who love to be torn apart…and put back together.
She writes romance both at home in New York and around the world, a coffee shop traveler who bounces from café to café with just a laptop, headphones, and a coffee cup. She loves to keep in close touch with her readers, mostly via Facebook, Instagram, and her mailing list.
For more information:
www.jessicahawkins.net
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Copyright
Something in the Way, Somebody Else’s Sky, Move the Stars, Lake + Manning All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
© 2018 Jessica Hawkins
www.jessicahawkins.net
Cover Design © R.B.A. Designs
Cover Photography by Perrywinkle Photography
Cover Models: Chase Williams and Miranda McWhorter
Created with Vellum
Acknowledgements
For their patience, encouragement, and mastery, I have to first and foremost thank my editors, cover designer, & cover photographer. This story has lived in me so long, I worried I wouldn’t be able to tell it right, in written form or visually. I don’t think anyone on my team knew what they were getting into. Elizabeth London, I would be lost without you. Thank you for talking me through this story over and over (and we’re not even done yet! Wait, where are you going?) and for encouraging me with ’90s-tastic gifs. Letitia of R.B.A. Designs, you not only nailed the cover of Something in the Way, but you did it on your first try. I bow down. I’m thrilled to have your magic touch on covers to come. Lauren of Perrywinkle Photography, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d get to see the characters in my head on the cover. You were that chance. Your talent has blown me away for years, and I’m proud to finally have your work on my books. Lake and Manning have come alive under your direction of the cover models, Miranda McWhorter and Chase Williams. Thank you. Katie of Underline This Editing, you were one of the few to help shape this book, and thanks also to Tamara Mataya Editing for your eagle eye and for a running commentary that kept me laughing when I needed to.
k with friends
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 108