What I want him to see is the woman I’ve become.
And hewillsee me. I made sure of that when I applied and got the job in the hospital’s cafeteria.
My skin tingles, my chest warming just thinking about catching a glimpse of him roaming the hallways tomorrow. Or…what if he drops by to grab lunch or coffee?
Fireworks.
“There’s that dreamy look again.” Hope’s brown eyes glimmer, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re thinking abouthim, aren’t you?”
When don’t I?
More importantly, how can I not?
What started as gratitude for the doctor who saved my life morphed into a full-blown obsession when I turned eighteen.
His fathomless blue eyes, square jaw, perfect stubble, and strong arms have been on my mind ever since. No other boy or man has ever come close. None of them has had that all-consuming presence, that deep, authoritative voice that’s sohis.
Other than my sister, Alaric Lockwood is everything to me.
Regardless, I hesitate when I say, “I…”
For as much as I obsess over him, I don’t talk about Alaric very often.
Other than telling Hope I owe him my life and that I wanted us to move back to the city so I could be close to him, she has no idea how far my fixation goes.
Far enough to get lost in.
Far enough that I worry it might make Hope uneasy.
She might even run back to Maine when she realizes I plan to stalk him.
“Well?” she prods.
I tug at the sleeves of my gray sweater and glance around for a box I might’ve missed. A way to busy myself and, hopefully, change the subject.
But we’ve unpacked everything already.
Deep breath. “Yes, I think about him, but only a little.”
“Tell me everything.”
I can’t. I’m sorry.
Instead of answering, I’m about to ask what we’re having for dinner when she shrugs on a white cardigan.
A frown tugs at my lips. I don’t like that she’s cold.
“Where did the realtor say the thermostat was?”
“I’m really okay.” The cardigan she snuggles into says otherwise.
“Thermostat.” I dart out of her bedroom into the hall.
On my way to the living room, I pass my bedroom. It’s about the same size as Hope’s, painted white instead of yellow and decorated with a handful of skeletons and pumpkins rather than bookshelves or a loveseat.
The main difference between them, however, is the view. My room, unlike Hope’s, looks over Alaric’s block.
I know because, with Mom’s inheritance, I was able to hire a PI who got me my doctor’s address before I went house-hunting.