Page 16 of Pretty

He tilted his head, and then he shook it as in disbelief. “Pretty?”

A warm smile tilted my lips. “Drew. What are you doing here?” I shifted my luggage.

“Uhm, I was coming to ask my neighbor if they had a screwdriver that I could borrow, but now I’m more inclined to figure out what you’re doing here,” he answered, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I live here.”

“I just moved in next door.”

“If I weren’t crazy, I would say that you’re stalking me.”

“Except, I’m not. I had no idea where you lived.” His chuckle sent heat down my body.

“So you just purchased the old Johnson family home?”

“I did. I was looking to downsize.”

I looked at the large home next door and wondered if this was downsizing, what did his old house look like, but I didn’t ask.

“I don’t know what to say. We left each other with the understanding that we would let that weekend be that weekend, and we wouldn’t contact each other again. Now you’re my neighbor—who’s asking to borrow a screwdriver?”

He narrowed his gaze in a sultry stare and pulled his fingers through his thick beard. Something inside of me quickened as I recalled me doing the same thing to him several times last weekend on a more intimate level.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll be borrowing some sugar. I remember it being sweet,” he teasingly suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

I pointed a finger at him and smirked. “Not funny, sir.”

He glanced at my luggage. “So, you’re just getting back?”

“Yeah. I uhm . . . I decided to take a few days to breathe after you left. Spent some necessary time with my sister in New York.”

“Wow. Did I leave you that stressed out?”

I giggled and shook my head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Good. I’d hate to think that I was the cause of any of your problems.”

I chewed my lip and then replied, “Let me go see if I can find that screwdriver for you.”

He nodded, and I could tell that he wanted to offer his assistance, but I was thankful that he didn’t. I needed a minute to gather my senses. Seeing him in a personal setting threw me for a loop.

I unlocked the door and slipped inside. After I rolled my luggage to my bedroom, I went in search of a screwdriver in the garage. I pulled a drawer open and found the Phillips-head screwdriver. After pulling it from its spot on the shelf, I ran my fingers over it. The last time it had been used, Cassius had been putting my easel together. No other fingers had touched it in all that time. I wanted to take the damn thing and go to his grave and drive it into his chest.

I knew that it was time for me to move forward and let go of the past; clearly, my body had already moved on. It was time for the rest of me to do the same. Cassius didn’t deserve another moment of my thoughts, my hurt, my anger, or any of my emotions. My emotions over my deceased husband needed to be just as dead to me as that bastard was—and I prayed that God didn’t rest his soul.

“Fuck you, Cassius.” I wiped away the straggling tears that fell from my eyes with the back of my hand. Pressing a grim smile to my lips, I headed back outside.

I took a moment to observe Drew unnoticed. He wore a frown as he studied his phone, and his lips were turned down in frustration. I wondered who had upset him, but that all changed the moment that he saw me. Drew’s lips turned up in a smile, and his eyes lit up.

“Here you go.” I handed the screwdriver to him.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem. I hope that our being neighbors won’t be either.”

“It won’t be. Were your former neighbors a problem?”

“Not in the slightest. I’ve known the Johnsons the entire time I’ve lived in my home. When they told me they were selling, I was disappointed.”