Chapter 1
Chapter One
It was August, and unusually warm for New York.
Leah stood on the front porch of the old brownstone, one hand wrapped around the handle of her last suitcase. She took a deep breath, staring up at the place that would now be home.
She had finally done it.
For years she had found every excuse imaginable to stay where she was. There had always been another reason to wait, another "maybe next year." But sometimes life didn't ask permission. Sometimes you simply woke up one morning and knew.
Today's the day.
So she packed her life into a handful of boxes, said goodbye to everything familiar, and drove to New York.
To Alex.
Alex had been her best friend since kindergarten. They had survived scraped knees, teenage heartbreaks, graduation, and the painful distance that came when he moved across the country five years ago.
Since the day he'd bought his ridiculously oversized three-bedroom house, he'd begged her to move in.
"One room has your name on it, Leah. It's always been yours."
His little Leah.
She smiled to herself as she unpacked the last of her clothes. She hadn't brought much. A few boxes of books, clothes, photographs, and the little pieces of a life she was still figuring out.
The golden light of sunset spilled through her bedroom window, bathing everything in warm amber.
For the first time in years, she felt hopeful.
What she didn't know...
...was that she hadn't just moved in with Alex.
She had moved into a house full of men.
Technically, they were adults.
In reality?
They were overgrown boys.
The house was known for loud music, late-night parties, empty beer bottles, football games that somehow turned into drinking competitions, and an endless parade of beautiful women coming and going.
Leah had no idea what she had just walked into.
She folded another sweater before voices echoed up from downstairs.
One belonged to Alex.
The other...
She had never heard before.
The voices grew louder.
"...You could've told me!" the stranger snapped.
"I didn't think it'd be a problem," Alex answered.
"A problem? You move a girl into the house without saying a damn word?"
Leah froze.
Oh.
Apparently someone hadn't been told she was coming.
Curiosity got the better of her.
She quietly opened her bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
The argument continued for only another few seconds before the front door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows.
Silence.
Slowly, Leah made her way downstairs.
Alex stood in the kitchen, both palms pressed against the marble countertop, his head hanging low.
She knew that posture.
Frustrated.
Angry.
Trying not to lose his temper.
He heard her footsteps and looked up.
Then came the smile.
The one she'd known since they were kids.
The smile that always said, Don't worry. It'll be okay. I'll fix it.
She smiled back.
Leah had never seen herself the way everyone else did.
She was short, soft, and beautifully curvy, with deep brown eyes and dark hair so rich it looked almost black beneath the evening light. She spent far too much time comparing herself to women on magazine covers—women she believed were effortlessly beautiful.
She never realized that kindness could outshine perfection.
Alex knew.
To him, Leah was the most beautiful person he'd ever met—not because she looked like a model, but because of who she was.
She was gentle.
Funny.
Loyal.
The kind of person who listened without judging.
She had always been his safe place, the one person who accepted every version of him without asking him to change.
She always had.
And deep down, he knew...
She always would.
