Chapter 2
AVERY
"It still feels surreal to be back," I said as my best friend, Alana, held up her glass of wine. I clinked mine against hers.
"I’m glad to have my bestie back," she replied, taking a sip.
I looked around her small apartment. She'd been gracious enough to let me crash with her.
When I called her a few weeks ago to tell her I was thinking about coming back to Chicago, she immediately offered me a place to live.
I was camping out on her pullout couch in the living room.
Although the bed was comfortable, and I enjoyed sharing her living space, I felt guilty for cramping her style.
"Don't! I know what you’re thinking," Alana said.
I glanced back at her, putting my glass of wine on the dining room table. Cutting a slice of my chicken breast, I said quickly, "I'm not thinking anything."
"I know you. You might have been out of town for the past million years, but I still know that look on your face. You feel guilty."
"Fine, I do.” I took a bite and chewed slowly, savoring it. We were enjoying dinner at home tonight.
“You can pay me back in jewelry.”
I grinned. Since I was a jewelry designer, that was totally up my alley. “Will do. But I'm going to be out of your hair quickly, I promise."
“You have those two apartments lined up that you showed me yesterday, right?”
"Yeah, but honestly, I don't like either of them."
She wrinkled her nose, which transported me right back to high school. She’d had the exact same expression back then too. My God, it was surreal to be here. Everything was different but somehow also the same.
"I still have that loft that Sam is also interested in," I continued. Simply saying his name caused my stomach and the tips of my fingers to tingle. Sam had been my first boyfriend ever, and my first love, back in high school.
A couple days ago, I saw an announcement in the alumni Facebook group that someone was renting out a loft.
It was gorgeous but far too expensive for me.
It was a huge space for just one person anyway, so I told the renter I was interested but only to share.
To my astonishment, Sam was interested in it as well.
For the life of me, I couldn't understand why he would even want a roommate. He could certainly afford the loft on his own. He was a Maxwell, after all.
"Sam Maxwell! Is he as fine as he was in high school?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since," I said. He’d missed the high school reunion a few years ago.
“I hear he's a renowned doctor. He’s worked with Doctors Without Borders for years.”
"That doesn't surprise me," I admitted. Sam had harbored that dream of working for the organization ever since we were in high school. I loved that about him; he was very caring that way. His family was well off, yet he wanted to break his back, studying and practicing medicine.
"You replied to Sam?"
“Not yet. I'll go look at the place again. I want to keep all my options open." Despite what my friend said, I didn't want to overstay my welcome. Besides, moving somewhere that I could call my own, even if it was a shared apartment, would be a step in the right direction to rebuilding my life.
Camping here on her couch felt temporary. It made me feel lost in limbo, like I was a teenager all over again.
But now I had a plan. First I was going to move into my own place. Then I was going to start building my business again from the ground up.
Pain fluttered in my chest at the thought of everything I’d lost, but that was what I got for trusting the wrong people.
"Do you want me to come with you to see the apartments?" Alana asked between bites. She’d cooked chicken parmigiana, and it was amazing.
In high school, both of us had barely known how to make grilled cheese sandwiches. But my friend had developed her culinary skills over the years, bringing them to an excellent level. Grilled cheese was still a staple in my diet.
"No, that’s okay. The appointments are mostly at odd hours, and I don't want you to take time off at work." She was a curator at a local gallery.
"Let me know if you change your mind. I can act as a chaperone between you and Sam.” Her devilish wink was hilarious.
I chuckled. “Oh, come on, Alana. Sam and I were together a lifetime ago.
" It felt that way, anyway. We'd probably grown into different people.
I figured it would be the same as living with a stranger.
I wondered if he was still as hot as in high school.
If he was, that might complicate things a tad.
"If you say so. Let me just test this theory.
" She took out her phone, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her fingertip. She’d been a knockout even in high school but wasn't part of the popular gang.
The two of us had our own bookish corner back then.
We weren't bullied or anything, just not part of the cool club.
We never cared about it either. Alana and I called ourselves The Blondes because we had the same shade of dark-blonde shoulder-length hair, though she had blue eyes, and mine were green.
People often asked us if we were sisters because we looked alike.
In fact, Alana looked more like me than my real sister.
My younger sister, Jamie, took after Mom: she was brunette with dark brown eyes.
I missed her and my mom tremendously. I wished they hadn’t moved away from Chicago, but Jamie went to study in Maine and stayed there after graduation.
Our mom moved to Miami, where she was originally from.
She’d raised us on her own, fighting for everything tooth and nail.
Mom deserved a great retirement, being around her childhood friends, maybe even dating a little.
She was happy there, and that made my heart content. She'd always struggled in Chicago.
When we were kids, I remembered her often talking fondly about her childhood home.
Once, I asked her why we didn't just move back.
She said Jamie and I were at an excellent school that would set us up for the future, and that was true.
We both had a scholarship at the elite private school where I met Sam and Alana.
And Mom was right—it had opened a lot of doors. Jamie was a successful accountant now.
I, on the other hand, completely blew it.
I took a chance on my business and on Sophia, my business partner—someone I’d considered a friend for years—and I'd made a mess of all of it.
It didn't matter. I could build it all back up.
I was going to find my way again. I felt it in my bones that it was a good idea to come back to Chicago. It was home to me.
“Here. Found him,” Alana exclaimed. “Hot damn!”
I sat up straight in my chair. “What?” I asked her, holding my breath.
“Okay, I didn't think it was possible, but Sam looks even hotter than in high school.”
“Impossible,” I replied immediately. In my mind, I could conjure him up just as he was, even though I hadn't seen him in sixteen years.
Dark hair, baby blue eyes, muscles that went on for days because he was on the lacrosse team, and a smile that would melt glaciers. You couldn't possibly beat perfection.
She turned the phone around, and I swallowed hard.
All right. I take it all back.
Grabbing the phone, I brought it closer and zoomed in on the picture.
I first looked at his face. Somehow it was even more handsome than in high school.
He'd been young then, but now he was a man through and through.
The lines of his cheekbones were more angular.
The smile was still absolutely panty melting.
His dark hair was cropped short. And those blue eyes, well, hell.
I zoomed out a bit, looking at his body from a bird's-eye view.
He was wearing a shirt with short sleeves.
What kind of doctor had those kinds of muscles? This was insane.
“Are you rethinking my offer of chaperoning?” Alana asked on a laugh.
I gave her back the phone quickly. “No, not at all.” My stomach was somersaulting.
“You little liar. You practically swallowed your tongue when I showed you the picture.”
“The man is annoyingly, sinfully hot,” I admitted. “I think I was just surprised because I hadn't seen him in so long.”
I'd finished my chicken, so I focused on my wine instead. He didn’t have his own picture as his profile on Facebook. I’d searched the other social sites earlier and didn’t find him anywhere. Leave it to Alana to pull it up.
“It's a good thing you've shown me the picture, though,” I told her. “Now I can brace myself.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Alana said. “If he turns up the charm, I don't think you stand a chance.”
I sat up straighter. “Alana! I'm really not at the point in my life where I can think about anything except getting my shit together.”
Her smile fell. “I'm sorry. I was just teasing you, thinking it might take your mind off everything.”
I took my phone from the pocket of my jeans, bringing up my texts.
“I'm going to send him a message that I'll go see the apartment.” I sent it quickly before I could change my mind. I couldn't lie—seeing that picture did things to me.
I didn't want to analyze those things too closely. It had been a long time, and I was sure we were different people with different priorities.
He replied right away.
Sam: Can't wait to see you, Avery.
I blushed as a few memories popped up in my mind.
“Is that a blush I'm seeing?” Alana asked.
I looked up from the phone. There was no hiding from her. It felt like no time had passed between us. Suddenly I wondered if it would feel the same way when I saw Sam—like I was still that eighteen-year-old who was sure he was the love of my life.
“Yep. I can’t believe it.”
"I'm sorry. I do have to tease you a bit more about it. I just can't help it.”
That made me laugh. “That's fine. I think I've taken life too seriously lately.”
Grabbing our glasses, we moved out onto her balcony. It was small, but it overlooked an inner courtyard that was surprisingly quiet. We sat down on the rattan chairs, clinking glasses again.
“Let's play a little game. How do you think things will play out when you see him?”
I bit my lip, thinking hard. “Well, he is clearly not the same guy I knew. He’s even hotter.”
“Do you think he'll flirt?”
He wouldn't do that, would he? Suddenly, I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. I didn't want to camp on Alana's couch for too long, but could I really live with Sam?
“I don't know. I think he might.”
Alana grinned. “He still keeps you on your toes, huh?”
“Looks like it.”