BETWEEN THE THREE OF US

The first thing Eliana Whitmore learned about The Hawthorne was that the elevator was useless.

The second thing she learned was that she had severely underestimated how many boxes she owned.

“Who needs a gym membership when you have to move apartments?”

She dropped the box in her arms onto the hallway floor and stared at it accusingly.

The box stared back.

Well, technically it was a cardboard box, but Eliana was exhausted enough to believe it had developed a personal vendetta against her.

She pushed a loose curl away from her face and looked down the hallway.

Apartment 2B.

Her new home.

At least, it would be once she managed to get the rest of her belongings inside.

She bent down to grab the box again.

“Need some help?”

Eliana froze.

She slowly turned around.

A man stood a few feet behind her, one hand resting casually against the wall.

He was tall. Very tall.

Probably around six feet, maybe a little over. He had dark, slightly messy hair, warm brown eyes, and an athletic build that made Eliana immediately question whether he had ever experienced the struggle of carrying a box labeled BOOKS up two flights of stairs.

He smiled.

Not an arrogant smile.

An annoyingly charming one.

“I've got it,” Eliana said.

His eyes dropped to the box.

Then back to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You've been staring at it for about thirty seconds.”

“I was thinking.”

“About?”

“How much I hate moving.”

He laughed.

“Fair enough.”

He stepped forward and picked up the box before she could stop him.

“Hey—”

“Relax. I'm not stealing your books.”

“You don't know what's in there.”

He looked at the label.

“Books.”

Eliana blinked.

He pointed at the box.

“You wrote it right there.”

“Oh.”

He smiled again.

“I'm Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel?”

“Most people call me Nate.”

“Eliana.”

“Nice to meet you, Eliana.”

He started toward her apartment.

She followed, trying not to stare.

“You live here?” she asked.

“Apartment 2C.”

She looked at her door.

“I'm 2B.”

Nate stopped.

“So we're neighbors.”

“Apparently.”

“That's convenient.”

“For what?”

“Borrowing sugar.”

Eliana raised an eyebrow.

“You cook?”

“No.”

“Then why would you need sugar?”

“I don't know. I'm trying to make myself sound neighborly.”

She laughed before she could stop herself.

Nate grinned.

“There. I knew I could make you laugh.”

“You're very confident.”

“I've been told.”

He placed the box just inside her apartment.

Eliana looked around the half-empty room.

Sunlight spilled through the large windows, illuminating the scattered boxes and furniture she hadn't finished arranging.

For the first time since she'd arrived, the place felt a little less unfamiliar.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem.”

Nate turned to leave.

Then paused.

“Actually…”

She looked at him.

“Do you need help with the rest?”

Eliana hesitated.

She wanted to say no.

She had spent enough of her life proving she could handle things herself.

But then she looked at the mountain of boxes behind her.

“…Maybe.”

Nate smiled.

“Thought so.”

Twenty minutes later, Eliana was sitting on the floor of her new living room, drinking water while Nate carried another box inside.

“This is the last one,” he announced.

“You said that three boxes ago.”

“I was optimistic.”

“You were lying.”

“Also possible.”

He placed the box down and wiped his forehead.

Eliana smiled.

“You know, you're not as useless as you look.”

Nate placed a hand over his chest.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“That hurt.”

“You'll survive.”

“I don't know. I may never recover.”

Before Eliana could answer, the sound of another door opening came from across the hallway.

Nate looked over.

Apartment 2D.

A young man stepped out.

He was tall too, around six feet, with thick black hair and dark eyes. His olive-brown complexion contrasted with the simple dark shirt he wore. He carried a small box under one arm and looked like someone who preferred observing a room before becoming part of it.

His eyes moved from Nate to Eliana.

Then to the boxes.

“Moving in?” he asked.

Eliana nodded.

“Yes.”

He gave a small smile.

“I figured.”

Nate laughed.

“How?”

The stranger pointed toward the hallway.

“You've left half your belongings outside.”

Nate looked behind him.

“Okay. That's fair.”

Eliana smiled.

“I'm Eliana.”

“Ilyas.”

Nate stood and extended his hand.

“Nathaniel. Nate.”

Ilyas shook it.

For a moment, the two men simply looked at each other.

Then Nate nodded toward the box.

“You just moved in too?”

“Today.”

“Which apartment?”

Ilyas pointed behind him.

“2D.”

Nate's face lit up.

“No way.”

Eliana looked between them.

“What?”

“We're all neighbors.”

Nate looked at Ilyas.

“2B, 2C, 2D.”

Ilyas gave a faint smile.

“Convenient.”

Nate laughed.

“That sounds familiar.”

Eliana narrowed her eyes.

“You two are going to be trouble, aren't you?”

“Absolutely not,” Nate said.

Ilyas looked at him.

“You probably are.”

Nate stared at him for a second.

Then laughed.

“I like you.”

Ilyas raised an eyebrow.

“You've known me for thirty seconds.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

Nate smiled.

“Want to help us move?”

Ilyas looked at Eliana.

Then at the boxes.

Then back at Nate.

“You ask everyone you meet to help you move?”

“No.”

“Just the neighbors?”

“Exactly.”

Ilyas sighed.

“Fine.”

Eliana watched the two of them walk toward the remaining boxes.

Something about the scene made her smile.

She had only been in The Hawthorne for a few hours.

She had no friends here.

No familiar streets.

No familiar faces.

Yet somehow, standing in the middle of a messy apartment with two complete strangers arguing over who was carrying which box, she didn't feel quite as alone anymore.

She didn't know it then, but those two men were about to become two of the most important people in her life.

And neither of them knew it either.

Not yet.

For now, they were just three strangers who happened to live next door to one another.

For now.