Fawn Callaghan has kissed one too many toads and has finally decided that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.
Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.
Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?
“Coming,” I yell when someone starts pounding on my door. Pushing myself up off the couch, I head across the room, knowing who it is without even looking through the peephole. Putting my hand on Muffin’s head to hold her back, I look down at her. “Be nice,” I command, and she huffs, taking a seat. She doesn’t like men at all. One of my boyfriends was cornered in the kitchen when he got up to get some water in the middle of the night. I found him there the next day asleep on top of the counter. After that he refused to come over, which in turn ended our relationship, since there was no way I was going to get busy with him at his place while his mom was in the next room.
I swing the door open, taking in my new neighbor, who looks like he’s had a shower in the last ten minutes. “Can I help you?” His hair is still damp on the ends, and he smells like soap and some kind of dark, intriguing cologne. I can’t help but notice he’s just as hot in a white tee, almost-black jeans, and black boots as he was shirtless and sweaty.
“Did you even check the damn peephole?” he barks, and my eyes fly up to meet his.
The corners of his eyes have small lines forming around them, and I wonder if I should tell him something my mom always tells me. “Honey, stop frowning. You know it causes premature wrinkling. You don’t want to look like your aunt Lizbeth, do you?”
“I knew it was you.” I shrug, leaving out the information about wrinkles, figuring he probably wouldn’t care.
“How did you know it was me?”
“For starters, no one I know would ever pound on the door like they’re the police. Secondly, I’m not expecting any company, so I risked it all and took a wild guess. Are you here to return my headphones?” I ask, holding out my hand toward him.
“What the hell is that thing?” he asks as his eyes drop to Muffin, who is trying to push past me to get to him.
“It’s a chicken. Now do you have my headphones or not?”
“Are you always a pain in the ass?”
“Are you always an ass?” He shakes his head, dropping the headphones into my open palm. “Thanks.” I smile as he runs a hand over his head, looking at me, then looking around. “Did you need something else? Flour, sugar, my firstborn child?”
“You are so strange,” he informs me as his eyes roam down my chest and stomach, causing my skin to tingle, my stomach to dip, and me to realize that I’m still shirtless.
“Thanks.” I smile—or try to—before my dog shoves me out of the way. “Muffin, no!” I cry as she runs right past my new neighbor, across the hall, and into his apartment. Running after her through his open door, I find Muffin sprawled out on his couch like it already belongs to her.
“Muffin, come here,” I growl pointing to the floor at my feet. Her head lifts for a second before she lowers it back down and closes her eyes. “Muffin, do you want a treat?” I ask, and she opens one eye but still doesn’t move.
“She’s very well trained,” my new neighbor chuckles as my face heats.
“I’m really sorry about this,” I say, trying to hide my now scarlet face.
“Pardon?” I ask turning my head toward him.
“My name’s Levi.”
“Oh.” I mutter, thinking Mr. Hot Shirtless Guy fits him better, but I guess Levi is okay, too.
“And this would be the time you tell me your name.” He raises one brow expectantly.
“Fawn,” I say under my breath.
“What?” He frowns, moving closer.
“My name’s Fawn—like a baby deer.” I sigh, hating that my parents named me after an animal that has a history of getting hit by cars or shot by hunters.
“Fawn,” he rumbles while his eyes slide over me once more, making me suddenly aware of how close we are and how very attracted I am to him when I totally shouldn’t be. I know men like him, and I know they always lead to one thing—heartache.
About the Author
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, and Underground Kings.
Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.
For more information on Reynolds’s latest books or to connect with her, contact her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AuthorAuroraRoseReynolds, on Twitter @Auroraroser, or via e-mail at Auroraroser@gmail.com.