Lila’s pov“Fuck this heat,” I muttered under my breath as I hauled the last of my suitcases up the driveway, sweat already sticking my tank top to my skin. I’d been gone for three years chasing that dead-end job in the city, but coming back home at twenty-two felt like stepping into the same old trap. Mom’s place still looked the same, peeling paint on the shutters and that rusty mailbox leaning sideways. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and glanced next door, where a moving truck sat half-unloaded. New neighbors. Great. Just what I needed after a long drive.A deep voice cut through the afternoon quiet. “Need a hand with those bags, miss?”I turned and there he was, Ryan, though I didn’t know his name yet. Tall, broad shoulders filling out a simple gray t-shirt that clung to his chest from the work he’d been doing. Salt-and-pepper hair, a bit messy like he’d run his fingers through it too many times, and these sharp eyes that locked on m
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