Eight months ago
It didn’t seem right that even with the boxes, bed, dresser, entertainment unit, TV, and an old couch, my apartment still looked bare.
Though coming from a house filled to the brim and threatening to overflow with memories, it was bound to.
“Are you sure about this?” my dad asked, his voice gruff as he stacked a large box on top of another by the door. “It’s not too late to change your mind and come back home.”
Tempting. It was so damn tempting.
My excitement since getting the callback for my first ever teaching position was fading fast. Spending the previous month apartment hunting and shopping for cheap necessities had helped battle the nerves. Nerves that were now curling sharp talons into my chest and threatening to make my voice shake as I said, “It’s time, Daddy.”
Dad’s nose scrunched in that way it did when he thought I’d said something ridiculous.
“Besides,” I continued as I waded over the scuffed wooden flooring to the window and parted the dust-marked checkered curtains, “it could be worse. I could’ve been accepted for the three jobs I’d applied for out of state or that last one in Tennille, which would mean a three-hour drive.” I fought the urge to sneeze as my hand stirred dust while gliding over the white painted windowsill. Turning to Dad, I wiped my palm on my jeans. “As opposed to twenty minutes.” I quirked a brow.
He waved a hand, marching over to inspect the smoke alarm with narrowed brown eyes, much like my own. “I’m just saying that living in the real world is tough, baby girl. I wouldn’t judge you if you changed your mind.”
Smiling, I left him to his inspections and went to grab the last two suitcases from the stairwell that led out to the busy street below. The apartment was open plan, but thankfully, it had a bedroom. The fact it was situated above a twenty-four-hour drugstore made me pause, but I’d tried to look at the positive side. Easy, quick access if I ever ran out of toiletries and it would be handy if I got sick, which was likely seeing as I was about to start teaching first graders.
I tried not to think about that.
Positives. I needed all the positives, or else the emotions that made my hands clammy around the suitcase handles might just get the better of me.
I was close to home, I reminded myself. So close, I really could be there in twenty minutes.
Our home sat nestled on the other side of the river that divided the concrete and suburban from the trees and wildlife. Glenning was a small, rural area often bypassed due to its size and dirt roads, but it owned a huge piece of my heart. That I got to work and start my venture into full-blown adulthood within reach of home was a dream, really.
Ugh. The way I was finding reasons to reassure myself grated.
I thought graduating college and landing a job my first year out meant I’d automatically mature into the woman I saw myself as in my mind.
Strong, fearless, capable.
You are, I tried to remind myself. You can fire a gun, milk a cow, read five novels a week, juggle a part-time job while studying, and ace your finals with one hour of sleep.
All were true.
Confidence snuffed out the fear at the reminder, and with it, that familiar excitement returned.
I dumped the suitcases in the middle of my tiny apartment and planted my hands on my hips as I released a huge breath. Who knew what this adventure would bring? The thought thrilled as much as it terrified.
The sun had shone all morning, so I’d slipped on my new cream gauzy dress.
It had ruffles spilling over the neckline, stopping beneath my breasts. Elegant, understated when paired with my favorite black flats, and professional.
It was my second week working at Lilyglade Prep, which was a little more esteemed than I’d have guessed before the interview process. Nevertheless, I was thankful for being forewarned. Jeans, a T-shirt, nice cardigan, and Chucks wouldn’t cut it.
They paid well, so shopping for a new work wardrobe didn’t hurt too much.
My new dress fluttered around my knees as I stepped out from the stairwell of my apartment and onto the street. As I was stuffing my keys and phone into my bag, someone bumped into me, and I grumbled beneath my breath, “Rude.”
Rain had started to fall, and I cursed my decision to park behind my apartment building rather than wait for a vacant spot in front of it the day before. I turned, thinking I’d run back inside to fetch my umbrella.
My heart jumped, and I stopped.
It couldn’t be…
Deciding to forgo the umbrella, I looked forward again, shaking away the absurdness. But another glance over my shoulder as I was about to turn the corner at the end of the street said my first crazy assumption was correct.
A sexy madman was chasing me down the street.
Clearly, this living away from home and becoming a full-fledged adult thing was off to a climactic start.
Okay, so he wasn’t chasing me. He was walking. Kind of fast. And he definitely wasn’t a madman, I realized as he gently tapped my elbow outside the bakery to get my attention.
“Hey, you dropped this.” In his ginormous hand sat my phone.
Hesitantly and without meeting his gaze, I reached out and took it, slipping it into my bag. “Thanks. I didn’t even know I’d dropped it.”
Those big hands sank deep into green cargo pockets, and his large chest barely moved as he shrugged. “Lucky I saw then. I’m Miles.”
“Okay, hi Miles.”
“And your name?”
“Um.” Nerves tinged my laugh, my eyes daring to creep up his chest to his face. “Jemima.”
“Jemima,” he repeated, trying it on with a smile. “Well, Jemima, I’m sorry if I spooked you.” His voice was deep and held a roughness that felt like sandpaper brushing over my arms.
“That’s okay. And uh, thank you,” I repeated, my eyes stuck on his chin. A chin that was covered in thick, dark stubble. Stubble that peppered his rugged jawline and wrapped around a set of decadently plump lips.
“You said that already.” He laughed, and the bell over the door to the bakery chimed, prompting him to grasp my shoulders and gently urge me to the side for someone to pass.
Droplets of rain splattered onto my cheeks and chin, courtesy of being moved beneath a gap in the awning. I swiped at my face. “Sorry. I find it hard to communicate like an intelligent human being before my morning caffeine consumption.” My eyes widened after that little bit of verbal vomit.
God, shit.
He chuckled good naturedly, and I tucked some hair behind my ear as I finally met his gaze.
Eyes like honey stared back at me; a golden brown so rich, they almost glowed. Dark lashes that matched his thick, unruly dark hair fanned over them as he blinked down at me, then licked his lips. “Well, this is kind of awkward. I’ll just—”
“No,” I blurted, then cringed, wanting to back into the bakery behind me and disappear. “I should get going before I’m late.” I smiled and shifted on my feet. “New job, can’t be late.”
Fucking hell. Shut your trap, woman.
When I chanced another peek at his face, his eyes were smiling, his teeth flashing. He was all predator, and I felt like a timid little mouse. “Congrats. And I hope you don’t mind, but I, well …” He rubbed behind his head, seeming unsure all of a sudden, which I already knew was a rarity for this man. “I kind of, maybe, called myself on your phone.”
“Kind of, maybe?” Breath lodged in my throat as I stepped back into the brick wall.
He nodded, lips pinching.
My stomach flooded with flutters. “Why?”
Another devastating grin. “Because you and me, we’re having dinner.”
I watched as his eyes dropped to my chest—later realizing my beautiful dress was see-through when wet—snared in a web of confused exhilaration as he turned and went back the way he’d come.
I wasn’t that girl. The one who thought she wasn’t good enough and plagued by insecurities. But this guy, Miles, he had to be thirty. At least. He held an air of maturity sprinkled with mischief while I’d only just started paying off my student loans.
And there was no way I wasn’t going to dinner with him.