Page 14 of Make You Mine

“Now you have my number. I’ll text you tonight, to make plans and go over the ground rules. I’ve got to get going now.”

“Oh, okay.” A soft laugh escaped me. “Well, not if I text you first.” I was such a goober,not if I text you first.Like I would ever have the nerve to text a man first. Fake or not, I was not one to make the first move.

“Until next time,” he said, standing up and looking at me like he liked what he saw, even though I was more than an entire mess right now.

“Yeah, next time.” I echoed softly as I watched him walk to his house, my heart still racing.

I snatched my phone from the table next to my rocking chair to save his number.

Hot Neighbor, I entered before hugging it to my chest.

Chapter4

Ren

My mind was a tangle of thoughts, and all of them were,what the fuck?

Had I flirted with her? There was no doubt about it; I had.

I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so charmed by a woman. Unlocking my door, I went inside, kicking it closed behind me as I fought the urge to take out my phone and immediately text her.

I couldn’t shake her image from my mind. She was adorable in that pretty caftan and worn-out robe, with a hint of green face mask lingering on her skin. She was enchanting.

I liked her already, and that was unlike me.

I moved to the kitchen and refilled my water bottle, sipping slowly to steady my nerves.

But was it?

I had been alone for so long that I felt I barely knew myself anymore. Even in my marriage, toward the end, I had been alone. Tabby had been so ill?—

The memories of our past crept in, uninvited and persistent. I’d lost myself in the routines of caregiving and the isolation that came with it. For so long, all I had was work and Tabby. Now, I was free, and the concept of a new beginning was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

I went to the living room and collapsed onto my couch, attempting to rationalize my feelings. I glanced at my phone, the temptation to send a text growing stronger with every passing second.

My thumb hovered over the screen, but I knew better than to rush into anything—the entirety of my work was comprised of extricating people from marriages they’d rushed into, for fuck’s sake.

I put the phone down and picked up my book, hoping to distract myself, but the words blurred, replaced by the memory of Piper’s lovely smile and green-tinged cheeks. The blush beneath the mask was undeniable, and I wanted to figure out all the ways I could make her do it again.

“Get your shit together,” I muttered to myself, slamming the book shut with a curse. It was absurd to feel this attracted to her when we had barely spent any time together. I needed to ground myself in the present, in the new reality that I was beginning to build, not get wrapped up in a woman.

The minutes ticked by, but the restless energy persisted. Maybe a change of scenery would help. After a quick shower, I got into my car and drove off to find somewhere to clear my head.

Figuring it was as good a time as any, I decided to head to my old apartment to grab the last of my things. I’d been putting it off. I had some clothes left in my closet to collect, and I was still contemplating getting rid of a few odds and ends.

The drive was exactly what I needed. Being on the road gave me space to think and reflect on everything that had happened over the past few years. Portland had always been a place of memories, good and bad. And now, it was going to be my place of transition.

Arriving at my old apartment, I was instantly hit by a wave of nostalgia. I moved through the rooms methodically, gathering the last of my things, each a relic of a life I was determined to leave behind—or at least not allow to hold me back anymore.

I let the exhaustion I had been feeling lately wash over me as I sat mindlessly on my old couch, not realizing how tired I was until my head hit the cushion. My thoughts flowed between Tabby and Piper as I drifted off to sleep, finding it strange that each had become a symbol of my past and present. So far, Piper was like a tiny spark of hope, and maybe it wouldn’t amount to anything, but it felt good to think about her, so I let my mind wander.

I awakened to the early morning light and the sound of my stomach growling like crazy. The steady hum of traffic outside and the occasional chirping of birds were quite a change from the peaceful sounds of Loganberry Lane the night before. I rubbed my eyes and glanced around the room, feeling the weight of the past pressing down on me. Yet there was comfort in knowing I was closing this chapter, that I was finally ready for it.

My eyes landed on Tabby’s old desk, the one piece of furniture I had long avoided confronting. It held the echoes of her presence, the hours she’d spent there, working, living, and ultimately dying. The weight of grief settled on my shoulders as I picked up one of her journals. How could I bear to part with it?

I found a box in the corner and began filling it with her belongings—her favorite pen, which I had given her after we graduated from college, and a framed snapshot, taken by my mother, of the two of us as children. On the brink of tears, I steeled myself. These items were essential; they were part of the past I didn’t want to forget.

Recognizing this as another step toward closure, I taped the box shut. I had to honor my past to move forward into the future; I understood that now.

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