Chapter Two

Sadie

I flip over onto my side, trying to find a comfortable spot, but it's no use. My mind is too busy running through every tiny sound the house makes. Every creak of the old duplex, every tremble of the pipes in the wall, every blow of wind against the glass pane makes me jump.

Is he here? Did he find me?

I'm being ridiculous and I know it. I'm a state away, hours from home and I'd been so careful. I'd gotten rid of every evidence of my move. I'd kept it all under wraps until the day finally came when I grabbed whatever I could carry in my arms and got the heck out of dodge.

Still, something about being in this place all alone makes me paranoid and suspicious. It hadn't been that bad during the day. It never is. In the two days that I've lived here, I've never had a hard time dealing with being alone during the day. During the sunlight hours, I can keep busy. I work, I cook, and I sit on my porch pretending to read and trying to steal a glimpse of…someone. I pull my thoughts away from the no-no zone and back to the present quickly.

The problem is not the day. The problem is that the moment night falls, the fears creep in and that's even though I sleep with several lights on to chase away the shadows.

It's crazy how different things are here compared to home. Back in Gastonia, it was loud, chaotic, and not always in a good way. My father made sure of that. I never really felt safe there either, but at least I knew what to expect. Here, it's just me and my thoughts, and honestly, they're not all that comforting either. With my father or away from him, his shadow still crowds me.

So far, the most peace I've felt is with him . That certain someone I try not to think about and always seem to fail to keep from my mind.

Nathan Matthews. My neighbor. My landlord. My hero.

If he hadn't rented this place to me, I'd have still been scrambling trying to find a place to live, trying to find a way out of the hell that was my old life. I'd contacted nearly thirteen other places and I was running out of money to sink into application fees just to be denied due to a lack of credit and rental history. So yeah, Nathan Matthews was the white knight I didn't know I needed.

With his short jet-black hair that must have been recently cut and his deep, chocolate-brown eyes, he never failed to steal my breath away. But, it wasn't just the fact that the man was gorgeous beyond belief in that rugged, brooding sort of way. It was also the way he was a total gentleman, charming and attentive, helping me bring my meager sampling of possessions inside and offering to bring me more furniture when he found out I really didn't have anything. Even in the brief times we'd see each other, he always stopped long enough to ask me if I needed anything. And something about the intensity with which he watched me answer always made me feel like he actually meant it. That if I asked him for something, he'd actually want to make it happen for me.

Of course, I never did ask him for anything. How do you ask someone to just sit with you? How do you ask someone to fill the silence crowding around you? At least, how do you ask that without being looked at as the most awkward weirdo on the planet?

Needless to say, I didn't have the best experience with kind men and yet in Nathan's presence, under his watchful gaze, I felt secure for the first time in my life. I roll onto my back and close my eyes, trying to push my thoughts back toward sleep, but all I can think about is Nathan.

I know he's older, probably in his late thirties or early forties, but that doesn't stop me from wanting him with a fierceness that surprises me. I've never really wanted anyone before. Sure I'd had meaningless crushes, but the desire I felt for Nathan tugged at my heart and set fire to the pit of my stomach.

Sighing, I tuck an arm under my head. I wonder if he thinks about me at all. Probably not. He's got a whole life here, and I'm just some kid he rented a place to because I sounded desperate.

A loud pop makes me jump, successfully ripping me from my thoughts. Another pop and then suddenly, the room goes pitch black, the lights I left on flicking out of existence. I scream without thinking and bolt upright my heart hammering in my chest. My hands shoot out, fumbling for my phone and instead, my forearm slaps against the nightstand. I mumble an oath clutching my now throbbing arm to my chest.

Before I can even process what's happening, there's a loud knock at the front door, and I freeze. Who would be knocking at this hour? I hesitate for a second, but the knocking grows more incessant and then I hear a loud male voice.

"Sadie? It's Nathan. Are you okay?" Nathan calls through the door.

"I'm coming!" I holler back, hoping my voice is loud enough to be heard from upstairs and through a door.

My heart still races as I swing my legs out of my bed and stumble through the dark down the stairs and to the door. I pull the door open, cutting off another round of knocking. The moment he sees me, he pushes past me his face hard set and his eyes scanning the dark space. Seeing nothing he whips back to me.

"What's wrong? Why did you scream?" he asks, his voice heavy with sleep, so low and gravelly, it makes my stomach do a little flip.

"The lights went out." I point to the light switch in the entryway and he flicks it, frowning when nothing happens.

"That's what made you scream like that?" He gives me a look like he's not sure if I'm joking.

I feel my face heat up with embarrassment. "I'm…I'm just not used to being alone, and I'm scared of the dark," I admit, feeling like an absolute child.

He softens a bit, though he still looks serious. He looks around the dark room, the only light streaming from the open front door that lets in porch light from his side of the duplex.

"Come on," he commands, leading me outside to the porch. The warm glow of his porchlight is a relief, but it does nothing to ease the awkwardness I feel for acting like a scared little girl.

"I'm sorry for bothering you." I chew at my bottom lip as he turns back to face me. His brown gaze flickers to my mouth and then back to my eyes.

"Don't be." He points to the rocking chair. "Sit. I'll go around back and check the fuse box."

I follow directions, folding myself into the chair, and pulling my knees to my chest. He jogs off the porch and disappears into the darkness around the duplex. I'm there for a few minutes when I hear his footsteps and then he reappears, shutting off his phone's flashlight as he climbs the porch steps.

"I can't fix it tonight," he announces, and I nod, trying to put on a brave face.

"That's fine," I say, even though the thought of going back inside that pitch-black townhouse makes my stomach turn. We stand there in silence for a moment, and I'm about to tell him I'll just go to bed when he surprises me.

"You can stay at my place tonight," he offers, his tone so casual it takes a second for the words to register.

"What?" I blink up at him, not sure if I heard him right.

He gestures toward his townhouse next door. "I've got a spare room, and the power's still on over there. It's up to you."

I know I should say no. It's inappropriate, isn't it? I mean, he's my landlord, and I barely know him. But the thought of staying here, alone in the dark, is more than I can handle right now. Plus, the idea of being in his space, being around him for any period of time is well worth it to me.

"Okay," I say softly. "Thank you."

"Of course, Sadie." The way he says my name sends a tingle through me. He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight, shining it into the house. "Let's grab your phone and house keys. You can grab anything else you need to stay at my place for the night."

He leads me back inside and I follow him closely. It doesn't take long for me to grab my stuff and soon we're headed back out the door, the night air cool against my skin as we walk the few steps to his front door. He opens it and gestures for me to go in first. His lights are dimmed, but on and the warmth of his place hits me immediately.

A second later the scent of him fills my nose and I have to resist the urge to take a deep breath just to absorb more of the faint scent of something woodsy and masculine. It's comforting in a way I didn't expect.

"Make yourself at home," he says, flipping on a few more lights. His house is neat, almost overly so. There's not a hint of decoration to it and if it weren't for the small touches of him—black boots at the door, a newspaper on the counter—you'd think it was a show home.

I stand there awkwardly in the entryway, not sure where to go or what to do.

"You can take my bed," he tells me, nodding toward a doorway down the hall. "I'll crash on the couch."

I glance at the couch. It's nice enough, but it doesn't look nearly big enough for someone his size. At five foot two he towers more than a head over me. There's no way that would be comfortable.

"I can't kick you out of your bed," I protest. "Besides, you're too tall to sleep on that couch."

He shrugs. "I'll manage."

"No, really, it's fine. I'll take the couch."

He gives me a look, one that says he's not going to argue about this. But I'm not backing down either. The last thing I want is to be the reason he has a miserable night.

"How about we both just sleep in the bed?" I suggest, trying to sound casual. "We're both adults. We can handle it, right?"

He hesitates, and for a second, I think he's going to say no. But then he nods, and I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, we can handle it."

I follow him to his bedroom, trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding in my chest. The room is simple, like the rest of his house, but it smells like him—clean, woodsy, with just a hint of something darker underneath. It's intoxicating.

He walks over to the left side, the side that is clearly crumpled from where his body had previously laid. He climbs in and I slide in next to him, keeping a respectful distance. Still, I can't help noticing how warm he is, even with the distance between us. I can't ignore how solid he feels either, just lying there next to me.

As I close my eyes, trying to will myself to relax, my body is hyperaware of every little thing—the sound of his breathing, the way the sheets feel against my skin, the tingling sensation in my stomach that I can't quite explain. Eventually, though, the warmth and the comfort of his presence manage to lull me to sleep.

And for the first time since I moved here, I finally feel safe.