Page 23 of My Heart To Heal

A Very Grown, Very Hot Man

Missy

‘This is so weird,’Zoe says from the iPad propped on Bree’s coffee table.

‘Come home then.’ Bree pouts and Cara wraps an arm around her shoulder.

Girls’ night is a little different with Zo in California, but she still wants to join us.

‘Where’s Leo tonight?’ I ask, and the handsome tattoo artist appears behind Zoe, his inked hands coming to her shoulders.

‘Hey, ladies.’ He smiles. ‘I’m leaving now so you can talk about boys.’ He winks, and Zoe tips her head back so he can lean in to kiss her before he leaves.

‘Oh god.’ Bree moans. ‘Stop being cute.’

‘Can’t,’ Zoe beams, ‘we’re adorable.’

They are — they are so fucking cute it’s ridiculous, but I’m finding it hard to muster a smile. I can’t cope with Nick and his animosity toward me. It’s like he wants to piss me off, wants to fight with me. I’ve longed to have neighbors for years, and now that I have one, he hates me.

‘Miss, you okay?’

I blink and find them all, Zoe included, staring at me, concerned. I must have spaced out.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ I shrug, unconvincing.

‘Missy, you look like you want to cry.’

At Bree’s words, I do just that. Unable to stop it, I burst into tears.

‘Oh my god.’ I hear Cara’s sweet accent expressing her concern as I feel her drop into the seat next to me and wrap me up in her arms.

‘What happened?’ Bree asks, firmly, police chief mode engaged.

‘Who are we burying?’ Zoe calls out from the coffee table.

‘It’s nothing.’ I sniff, wiping my tears.

‘Miss, you are not a cryer. What’s got you feeling like this?’ Bree asks.

‘Or who?’ Zoe presses.

‘Ugh.’ I groan, more hot tears coming. Bree’s right. I’m not a crier. I don’t know why he’s got under my skin like this.

‘Is it Nick?’ Cara asks, and all eyes snap to hers. ‘Doug told me the two of you haven’t been getting along.’

‘Nick?’ Zoe questions, and I nod.

‘He’s such an asshole. He is sofucking mean.’

‘Nick?’ Bree repeats her twin’s questioning but with a little more feeling, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

‘He hates me. Like he really can’t stand me, and I just wanted to get along with him because he’s my neighbor, you know?’ I shrug. ‘I mean, he’s really my only neighbor, and I thought we’d be friends, but he’s so mean to me. Then he goes and answers the door shirtless andfuck, he’s like Superman but better and with tattoos, that are not just on his arms but his very, very nice chest too, and he comes down to my salon in sweatpants and clearly no boxers, and damn, I needed a minute, but he just wanted to yell at me.’ I’m ranting now, and my friends, the besties that they are, stay quiet and let me. ‘He complains about everything that I do: the work on the apartment and the salon, the parking spaces, my music, my singing, my goddam cooking stinking up the hallway, then heblareshis fuckin’ music and wakes Jonah and laughs when I go over there to ask him to turn it down.’

‘Are we talking about the same Nick?’ Zoe interrupts, and I stand from the couch with a frustrated growl.

‘Yes!’ I snap.

‘Miss, it’s just…’

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