Page 5 of Crave Thy Neighbor

Two guys sit with their heads together at a booth in the back, their smiles full of promises of what’s to come.

I’m so damn destitute for romance of any kind, and jealousy and longing run through me.

I spent my formative years with the same man who got me pregnant at sixteen, Patrick, and we were together for eleven years. Though we’ve now been divorced for two, I haven’t dated anyone since him. Haven’t slept with anyone either. Hell, I haven’tkissedanyone since him.

Lonely is my middle name at this point.

It could be hormones and all the stress of this apartment fiasco, but I’ve been extra miserable about the state of my love life—or lack thereof—since my two best friends have found thatonce-in-a-lifetimekind of love in the last six months.

I watch River and Dean bicker and argue—then make up within two minutes. Watch Caroline and Cooper, who have been best friends for a decade, stare at each other with nothing but hearts in their eyes.

I want that.

I want to know what it’s like to be loved again. Want to feel what they’re feeling, that rush when someone looks at you like you’re their whole world. I miss being part of a couple. Miss all the cutesy shit and all the romantic gestures.

I want it again.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?”

A deep voice startles me, and I glance at the now occupied stool next to me.

A guy is sitting there, staring out at the crowd, scanning it.

The first thing I notice is how tall he is. I’m not lacking in the height department, but even sitting down I can tell this guy is at least six inches taller than I am.

I tip my head back, peering up at his profile.

His jaw is strong and sharp, dusted with hair like he forgot to shave. There’s a bump along his nose, like he’s broken it before, and I have the strangest urge to ask him what happened. Ridiculous since I don’t know him.

His inky black hair is tapered at the sides, longer on top and disheveled like he’s run his hands through it several times. His focus is on the crowd, and I wonder if he was talking to me at all.

Then, he nods at the throng of people and leans into me. It’s not enough that I’m uncomfortable, just enough so I can hear him…and smell him.

And damn does he smell good.

Like fresh mountain air with a hint of something minty.

“All the lovey-dovey shit,” he says out of the side of his mouth, shaking his head. “It’s a bit overrated if you ask me.”

“Yet nobody did.”

He pulls back, looking down at me for the first time.

My breath is caught in my throat when his eyes meet mine.

They’re a bright, light blue. Maybe the brightest I’ve ever seen in person.

The color is striking against his long lashes, but it’s not the only thing drawing me in.

He’s looking at me like it’s only us in the room. It’s intense, and not how you should look at a stranger.

My skin prickles with goose bumps.

Finally, he flicks his eyes away.

I swallow, my mouth tacky and dry.

Oh hell.I need to get ahold of myself. Stop acting like I haven’t seen an attractive man before. Sure, it’s been a while since anyone other than Henry Cavill has given me tingles, but still. I need to get a grip.