Obsessed With My Neighbor: Romantic Collection
I perched on the edge of the couch with my feet tucked under me, enjoying the quiet rhythm of him in the morning.
“You’re surprisingly domestic,” I teased softly, trying to mask the flutter I felt every time he was near.
He glanced over his shoulder, half-smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t let it get around. My reputation could be at stake.”
I laughed, the sound was light and warm, and he grinned, his eyes lighting up as if the laugh alone had made the room brighter.
We moved through the morning in a gentle, unspoken rhythm — making coffee together, passing mugs, brushing hands on small exchanges that lingered longer than necessary. Each gesture was innocuous, yet charged, a quiet acknowledgm
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