The next door love

I couldn’t drive.The car wasn’t just any car—it was his. Jason had bought it for me as a birthday gift last year, saying how he wanted me to have something special, something that was mine. But tonight, the thought of sitting behind that wheel made my chest tighten, my stomach twist, and my hands shake. I couldn’t keep it. Not tonight.So I left it there, parked under the dim streetlight, and started walking.The rain had started lightly, almost teasing me, and then it poured. My hair plastered to my face, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. My shoes squished with every step, the cold seeping into my bones. The streets of the city blurred under the neon lights, puddles reflecting the world upside down, and every splash I made felt like it echoed my broken heart.I barely noticed the sound of a car approaching, its engine cutting through the rain and my thoughts.“Amara?” a voice called, calm, gentle, laced with concern.I froze.The car slowed, its headlights catching the r

Scrolling through Instagram was supposed to be harmless. I told myself that a hundred times. But my thumb froze when I saw a notification:Elijah Brooks started following you.I blinked, stared at the screen like it had suddenly lit up in neon. I’d seen him around, of course—neighborly smiles, shared coffees, breakfast the morning Jason had shown up—but this? This felt… different.My finger hovered over the screen. Should I follow back? Did I follow back? My heart gave a small, ridiculous leap.I did.And then a DM popped up almost immediately.Elijah: “Hey… hope you don’t think this is weird, but I figured Instagram is safer than just knocking on your door. ☕”I laughed quietly, feeling warmth creep into my chest. Safe and thoughtful—him, in two words.Me: “Not weird at all. I was actually thinking I should have knocked on yours last night.”Elijah: “We’d have ended up eating pancakes again. Can’t say I mind repeating that.”We chatted like that for a while—memes, small talk, joking

The next day. The sunlight streaming through my curtains was relentless, but I didn’t mind. I was still buzzing from yesterday—coffee shops, ice cream, laughter, and Elijah’s easy smile. Somehow, just thinking about it made me grin.A knock at the door pulled me fully awake.“Elijah?” I called, my voice a mix of surprise and anticipation.“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, a mug in each hand. “Thought you might need this.”I blinked. “Hot chocolate? Again?”He grinned. “You liked it yesterday. I figured I’d start the day the right way.”I laughed, taking a mug. “You’re ridiculous.”“Maybe,” he said, stepping inside and plopping onto the couch. “Or maybe I just know what works.”We curled up on the couch, blankets over our legs. Outside, the city was waking up, but inside, it felt like our own little world.“So… plans for today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.“Nothing serious,” I replied. “Might reorganize my closet… or stare at it indecisively for

Elijah held the door open like a proper gentleman, grinning as I stepped outside. The evening air was cool, scented faintly with flowers from someone’s garden, and the golden glow of streetlights made everything feel soft, almost magical.“You ready?” he asked, eyes sparkling.I nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”He linked his arm with mine, leaning slightly closer. “Good. Because you look incredible. That blouse? Perfect. Jeans? Perfect. You? Absolutely impossible.”I laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous. Do you practice these lines?”“Only on beautiful people,” he replied without missing a beat. “And lucky me—you’re here.”We walked down the familiar streets, talking about everything and nothing. The neighborhood felt alive with evening sounds: distant laughter, the hum of cars, the occasional bark of a dog.“So,” I said, glancing at him, “what’s first on your VIP Amara-and-Elijah-only itinerary?”He grinned. “Dessert first, obv

I woke up to the sound of Elijah’s laugh drifting from the kitchen. Curious—and secretly giddy—I rolled out of bed in my pajamas and padded down to find him leaning against the counter, making what looked like an overly complicated cup of coffee.“Good morning,” I said, trying not to smile too widely.“Morning, babe,” he said, glancing at me over the mug he was holding. My stomach fluttered at the pet name. “Coffee for the beautiful woman who stole my heart yesterday?”I laughed softly, walking closer. “Is that how you’re starting every morning now?”“Only on days that start with you,” he replied with a grin, handing me a steaming mug. His fingers brushed mine, lingering just a second longer than necessary. I felt my cheeks heat up.We moved to the couch, curled up under a blanket with our mugs. I rested my head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of him seep into me. “You make mornings too easy,” I murmured.“Too easy?” he said, tilting his head to look down at me. “I was aiming for