Large hands gently grab my shoulders, stopping me as a heated blush paints my cheeks. I look up, an apology dying on my tongue. “I’m so sorry…”
Familiar dark blue eyes that rival a roaring ocean stare back at me with an intensity I’m not used to. Like they hold the weight of the world instead of an untold story. Dark, buzzed hair strikes a chord with me immediately. As does the strong jaw and slightly crooked nose.
“Watch where you’re going.” Those firm lips soften slightly as he speaks in a rough, low tone. It sends goosebumps down my arms, and I have to blink my surprise away at the pleasing sound.
I scowl, my gaze drifting to the tattooed arms still holding me in place—black, dangerous ink snakes up sculpted biceps that stretch his white t-shirt’s sleeves.
I’m pretty tall for a woman. My five-foot-seven stature has always been a blessing, but next to this man, I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. “Excuse me?”
What was his name again?
I think Thalia, the woman I met at Sweet Haven, called him Row.
What the fuck is that short for?
Romaine lettuce?
Row, row, row your boat?
Hehe, good one, Addie.
A finger tilts my chin so I’m left staring at a solid chest. “Pay attention, Addison.”
Awareness zips down my spine, and I’m left speechless as he lets me go and brushes past me. I stare at the coffee shop’s door, my brows slowly furrowing.
What the fuck?
I glance over my shoulder to see the man standing at the counter. He orders a black coffee as if our encounter didn’t just happen.
It’s a coincidence. Nothing more.
I shake myself out of it before using my hip to push the door and step out onto the sidewalk. I want to brush it off, but can’t shake the feeling…
If only I had known that it would be the first of a few.
I pick at my lip, those familiar nerves tingling in my stomach. I’m working myself up over nothing.
Damn. Mom really has done a number on me.
I toss my phone down on the bed, placing my hands on my hips as I peer around my emptied room to clear my head. I didn’t have much to begin with, so packing has been quick work. I have my clothes and a few knick-knacks I couldn’t part with stowed away. The furniture stays since it belongs to the owner, and I hardly keep anything in the fridge.
I’m used to bouncing around. I learned long ago that keeping oversized items made moving days a fucking nightmare. Every apartment I’ve rented has come fully furnished, and I rarely stay until my lease is up.
I’m not even sure why. Call it something I inherited from my mother, but it’s like I could never stay put. Moving from place to place has become a habit. It’s like an itch I have to scratch before it festers.
Maybe it’s because you haven’t found a place that feels like home yet, Addison.
My therapist’s words circle my head, and I worry my bottom lip between my teeth—a nervous habit I picked up overthe years.
When was the last time you felt safe? Cared for?
Dr. Windsor really knew how to ask tough questions. A year after his retirement, I still miss the old fart. He was the only professional who really seemed to care about his job and my well-being. Everyone else just kind of follows the basics.
“I have an eight-hour drive to Columbus tomorrow morning, and I’m reminiscing about my therapist.” I press my fingertips to my forehead as if I can will the thoughts away. “Get a fucking life, Addie.”
Chapter Two
Rowan
