Instead, I lost him because I believed a liar who convinced me that if he didn’t have my attention, he’d end his own life.
And Justin knew that he could do that to me because suicide is my trigger. That’ll happen to someone after they find their own father hanging in their garage at the tender age of twelve.
Brooks saw it as me choosing Justin over him, but that’s not what it was at all. I truly thought I was saving a man’s life.
But I lost the one person who’s ever truly loved me instead. Not just lost him but made himhateme with every fiber of his being.
And now, after all this time, he’s helped me, and I don’t know why. I should march myself right over to his garage and ask him.
I won’t do that, though. Because being on the receiving end of Brooks’s harsh words is almost worse than anything Justin did to me.
Okay, maybe not.
But it hurts all the same.
So I send out a silent thank-you to the universe and climb the stairs to my apartment, where I tuck my new books away and get back to work.
Chapter Four
BROOKS
Buying a second house was a dumb fucking idea.
Even if they are right across the street from each other.
When the big corner house came up for sale last year, I bought it without really considering the consequences. It’s Juliet’s dream home, and I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else buying it.
She didn’t even live here when I made the offer. I justdid it.I blame it on temporary insanity because that’s the only explanation for a spur-of-the-moment property purchase.
Now, Jules is back, and every time I walk inside this house, it’s just another reminder of her. I’ve never lived in it. I still live in the house across the street that I bought all those years ago.
It’s time I fixed up this big home and sold it. I don’t need it. I don’t want to be a landlord. I have no idea what I was thinking when I purchased it.
Again, temporary insanity.
And maybe a moment of feeling sentimental over a girl who didn’t choose me in the end.
I’m a fucking sucker.
Up before dawn, I’m standing on the porch of the big house with a can of red paint, brushing it on the door. Next, I’ll repairand paint the porch. Because when you buy a house that was built a hundred years ago, you buy all the problems that come with it. It’s pretty, with good bones, but it needs a lot of work. Work I don’t have time for.
After applying the second coat, I walk home to let it dry, pour myself a cup of coffee, and stare out the window.
You’re turning into a motherfucking stalker.Shaking my head, I sip the coffee. I might be disgusted with myself, but that doesn’t mean I’ll walk away from this window. Just like the other night, I want to catch a glimpse of her. I don’t like her. I don’t want to have anything to do with her, but dammit, she’s like a freaking drug.
It’s ridiculous.
Sure enough, not five minutes later, Jules comes walking down the block. She takes this walk every morning at this time. Sometimes she looks sad. Other times, it looks like she’s talking to herself. But every single time, she slows down to look at the house across the street, and I know that she strolls into the past every time, thinking about the conversations we had when we were kids about the place.
She’s wearing green shorts, and I can see where she tore the flesh on her shin. It’s scabbed up, bruised and looks like it hurt like a bitch. Seeing her with blood on her made my own blood boil. I may not trust her, but my wildfire being hurt is not a fucking option.
So I fixed her steps. I shouldn’t have. She’s not my problem, but the thought of her hurting herself like that again doesn’t sit well with me.
Today, she comes to a complete stop and turns her back to me, facing the freshly painted door, her hands on her hips. She’s on my side of the street, right in front of my house.
What was supposed to be our house.
I have the window open, so I can hear her breath coming fast from the exercise. Her ass looks damn fucking irresistible in those green shorts, and I want to lean in and kiss her cheek.
