The Billionaire Neighbor's Obsession

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I changed the penthouse passcode. Don't come around anymore. Harrison dangled my lingerie from his fingers, his tone lazy as I pushed myself up from his bed.

My hand froze.

Why?

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. Willow finally agreed to be my girlfriend yesterday. She's pure, and I chased her for way too long to risk her getting pissed off if she runs into you here.

Chapter 1

My whole body ached the second I opened my eyes. Even after all this time, I still wasn't used to Harrison's animalistic stamina.

I rolled over. He was already awake, the morning sun catching the honey-toned stretch of his bare back. His eyes were half-open, lazy and satisfied.

"Why are you up so early?" His voice was thick with morning gravel.

A sharp cramp in my lower back made me wince. I reached for my stockings, only to find them completely shredded from last night. Totally unwearable.

Harrison rolled onto his side, dangling my bra from his finger. A cruel, mocking smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Your white lace lingerie is too boring. Willow prefers something hotter, like Victoria's Secret. Since she's moving in, you shouldn't stay here anymore."

I froze.

I'd been playing this twisted game with Harrison for a year. At first, it was just a late-night booty call every few days. Eventually, unless I was stuck at the office, I practically lived at his penthouse. I kept the place clean.

On early nights, we'd curl up on the couch, eat popcorn, and put on a movie we'd never finish before he dragged me back to bed. Just like a real couple. Slowly, I'd gotten used to the routine. Sometimes, like an idiot, I'd catch myself thinking he was used to me toothat maybe we could actually build a life together.

And now he was casually kicking me to the curb.

My mouth went dry. "Are your parents visiting? Or is it work? I can"

He sat up, the smirk never leaving his lips. "No. I just told you. Willow officially agreed to be my girlfriend."

It took a second for the name to fully register. Willow. The fresh-out-of-college girl he'd been chasing lately. Over the years, his flavor of the week rotated faster than a revolving door.

The longest any of them lasted was three months. I thought she was just another passing itch. I hadn't even paid attention.

I swallowed hard. "You're serious?"

Harrison let out a low laugh. "Dead serious." He leaned back, his eyes completely detached. "She's not like the other women, Hazel. You have no idea."

"She's pure. Innocent. I don't want her finding out about our little arrangement. It would ruin her mood, and I worked way too hard to get her."

The morning sun sliced through the gap in the heavy curtains. It was blinding. Nauseating.

"Right. Okay." The words slipped out of my mouth completely flat. "I'll pack my things today."

"No need to rush." Harrison grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants and casually pulled them on. "Didn't your lease end? You can crash here for another day or two until you find a new place."

I tossed the ridiculous white lace bra straight into the trash can. No tears. No begging. I stared at the man I had waited on hand and foot for a whole year, suddenly finding his massive ego absolutely comical.

I grabbed my suitcase.

I didn't even bother closing the door behind me.

Chapter 2

My footprint in Harrison's penthouse was practically nonexistent. I had bought the premium cookware for his meals, the high-thread-count sheets for his bed, and the decorative throw pillows that softened his stark, minimalist aesthetic. He used to complain about the clutter I brought into his space. Yet, when it came down to what was actually mine, it all fit into a single suitcase.

Harrison stopped me on my way out. Bare-chested and leaning against the doorframe, he ducked his head to light a cigarette. "Hazel, you aren't getting any younger. It's time you found someone to settle down with."

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, a half-smile playing on his lips. "We can still be friends after this."

I understood his underlying warning. I gave a single nod. "Sure."

The New York winter air was sharp and damp. It wasn't freezing, but the chill sank straight into my bones. Something icy and wet landed on the tip of my nose. I looked up.

The clear sky had rapidly turned a bruised gray, and fine white flakes were swirling in the wind. It rarely snowed like this in the city. Ever since I followed Harrison to New York, I hadn't seen proper snow. The snow here was weak and clinging.

I dragged my suitcase to a nearby bus stop, sat on the icy metal bench, and dialed home.

My mom picked up on the second ring, her voice laced with that careful, breathless excitement she always had. "Hazel?"

The frigid air burned my lungs. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, fighting the sting. "Mom, I really miss your homemade lasagna."

She perked up instantly. "I can make a huge batch! Let me check flights. It's getting close to Christmas, so tickets might be a nightmare to find"

I cut her off. "Don't worry about it, Mom. I'm coming home for Christmas."

She paused, pure joy seeping into her tone. "Really?"

"Yeah." I tilted my head back. A snowflake caught my eyelashes. I blinked against the sudden moisture, my voice dropping. "I'm moving back home."

I submitted my resignation that very afternoon.

My boss, Sharon, tried everything to keep me. "Is this about salary? Hazel, just give me a number. We can negotiate!"

She leaned across her desk, practically pleading. "The department manager is transferring next year, and you're first in line for the promotion. Walking away now is a huge mistake."

I offered a small, polite smile and shook my head. "Thank you, Sharon. But I want to go home and spend time with my parents."

I never had massive corporate ambitions. I didn't care about clawing my way up the ladder. I only moved to New York because Harrison wanted to conquer the city, and I had blindly followed him. I used to think that if I just stood by his side long enough, he would eventually look at me.

I was wrong.

You can't outwork someone's indifference.

On the way to my hotel, a heavy pop ballad poured out from a bookstore's outdoor speakers. A female vocalist belted out the chorus.

"Played the puppet for a year or two, twisting myself just to fit into you. Look at the wreckage I became. Compromised my soul for a losing game"

I stopped on the sidewalk. I listened in absolute silence.

Chapter 3

A gust of wind blew past, scattering the music into the air. I let out a long breath, watching my breath turn to white mist.

A single thought echoed in my mind, finalizing the choice.

Twelve years of chasing a ghost. I was done. It was time to leave this absurd charade behind.

That night, for the first time in years, I dreamt of Harrison.

I woke up in my dark hotel room. The silence was suffocating. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, rubbing until I saw stars.

The girl who offered band-aids to a bleeding, hostile boy was dead. And the woman who compromised her dignity for a year just to keep his bed warm was gone too.

I pulled out my phone and booked a one-way ticket home.

Chapter 4

I gripped my phone tighter as the booking confirmation screen loaded.

Twelve years.

The confirmation email popped up on my screen.

[Flight booked.]

I tossed the phone onto the bed and started packing. No more chasing ghosts. No more compromises.

Chapter 5

I woke up with a pounding headache. Probably from standing out in the snow yesterday. But I had a friend's birthday party tonight, the gift was already wrapped, and bailing wasn't an option.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. The top notification was from Harrison. He sent a photo. A faded Snoopy pajama top.

[You left your pajamas. Come grab them tonight.]

I bought those as a matching set months ago. Whenever he actually put his on, I used to get this pathetic rush, tricking myself into believing he was finally mine. Looking back, it was just sad.

I typed back.

[Throw them out. I don't need them.]

He didn't reply.

I rolled onto my back and threw an arm over my eyes.

After we moved to New York, Harrison's life had completely derailed. I finally learned the truth about his family back then. His mom wasn't the mistress. She and his dad were actually together first, genuinely in love.

But his dad dumped her to marry into old money. Even after the rich marriage, his dad kept sleeping around, desperate to produce more heirs. His mom's life turned into a living hell of screaming matches and severe depression. Eventually, she jumped off a roof.

His dad supposedly sobered up after the funeral and stopped cheating, but the damage was done. Harrison never stepped foot in that house again.

Instead, he turned to cheap liquor, reckless driving, and chain-smoking. He morphed into a textbook trust-fund degenerate. The guarded, quiet boy I knew vanished, replaced by a seasoned player who rotated through women like disposable cups.

That version of him was dead. Just a ghost I couldn't let go of.

That night at the birthday party, I finally met the new girlfriend. Willow.

She stood near the entrance in a tailored camel coat, her chestnut curls wrapped in a thick cashmere scarf. Her smile was soft and practiced. She wasn't jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but she had that pure, untouchable girl-next-door look.

Harrison was right. She was completely different from his usual crowd.

"You must be Hazel!" Willow practically skipped over and grabbed my hands. "Harrison talks about you all the time. He's such a liar! He told me you were plain, but you're so pretty!"

I caught the sharp, calculating glint in her eyes. Women have a radar for this. She knew exactly what I used to be to him, and this was a territorial claim.

Before I could open my mouth, Harrison cut in.

He slipped his hand around Willow's waist and pulled her flush against him. "Guys, meet Willow. The real deal."

The whole room erupted in catcalls and cheers.

"Harrison actually brought a girl around! Hell must have frozen over!"

"Seriously, man? Women have been throwing themselves at you for years. How did she finally lock you down?"

"When's the wedding? I need to start saving for the registry!"

Willow's cheeks flushed pink. She ducked her head, pressing her face against Harrison's chest, playing the bashful act perfectly.

Harrison wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "Back off, idiots. Willow's shy. Don't scare her away."

Someone groaned from the couch. "Already acting like a bodyguard? Get a room, you're making us sick."

Chapter 6

We found our seats in the VIP booth. Out of sheer habit, Harrison dropped into the chair right next to me.

Before I could even point it out, Willow stepped up to the table. She bit her lower lip, putting on a brave face. "Hazel, do you mind moving? Since you're single, it's probably best to keep some distance from a man with a girlfriend. Don't you think?"

I frowned. I sat down first. Why the hell should I be the one to move?

Harrison nudged my arm. "Don't piss Willow off. Hazel, just move."

I shot him a blank look, grabbed my purse, and moved to the opposite side of the table.

The night dragged on. Empty liquor bottles piled up across the table.

Halfway through the meal, Willow gently shoved Harrison's shoulder. "Harrison, I want some of that sea bass."

Harrison answered without thinking. "Aren't you allergic to seafood?"

The table went dead silent.

My fork froze mid-air.

A long, suffocating second passed.

Willow's face tightened. "Harrison, I'm not allergic to seafood."

Harrison paused. He picked up his glass. "Right. My bad. Must have remembered wrong."

Willow stared a hole through him. "Who is allergic to seafood?"

He shrugged, taking a sip. "Forgot. I've had way too much to drink."

Willow shot a dark, venomous look across the table at me. She picked up the serving tongs, dropped a large piece of sea bass directly onto my plate, and widened her innocent eyes. "Hazel, this fish is amazing. You should try it!"

The guy sitting next to her, completely oblivious and practically drunk blind, slurred. "Willow, you don't know? Hazel can't eat seafood. She's deathly allergic."

Willow's voice went ice-cold. "Oh. Is that right?"

More drinks flowed. Everyone was getting loud and sloppy.

A guy with a flushed face pointed his glass at Harrison. "Harrison! We had a betting pool on whether you'd ever settle down before thirty. Never thought you'd actually find true love this fast."

Another guy, squinting through his drunken haze, laughed. "For real! Back in the day, we all thought you and Hazel were so tight that you two would end up together."

Willow looked like she was ready to commit murder.

Harrison let out a sharp laugh. "Is that right? How could we ever be together? We're best friends. That's hilarious."

He kept laughing, like it was the best joke he'd heard all night.

The table erupted into snickers.

"Right, right. Now we know. You guys are just pure, platonic friends. Hahaha"

Harrison pushed his chair back, walked over, and slung a heavy arm over my shoulder. His face was flushed from the alcohol, his eyes glassy as he tilted his head to look at me. "Hazel, you don't actually have feelings for me, do you?"

I searched his eyes. I wanted to find a shred of regret, a flicker of anything real. But there was nothing.

He just stared at me, totally empty, completely convinced that we were exactly what he claimed we were.

I shoved his hand off my shoulder.

I grabbed my half-full glass of red wine, stood up, and splashed the dark liquid across the table right in front of him.

"You're right," I said, my voice dead and cold. "Being with trash like you really is hilarious. I wish you two a long, miserable life together."

I didn't wait for a response. I turned on my heel and marched straight out of the booth, leaving the entire room staring in absolute shock.

Chapter 7

The next morning, I bought a one-way ticket home.

While waiting at the boarding gate, I checked my phone one last time. Harrison had posted a new story with Willow. There was no caption. Just a photo of their fingers tightly intertwined.

A hard launch.

The comment section was already flooded with congratulations from his inner circle.

I stared at the screen, my face completely blank. I pulled off my phone case and extracted the SIM card. I dropped it into the airport trash can.

Going home was easier than I expected.

My parents picked me up from the airport. With Christmas just a few days away, the streets were lined with twinkling lights, and Mariah Carey blasted from every storefront. It lacked the blinding neon pulse of New York, but the crisp scent of pine needles and woodsmoke hanging in the winter air wrapped around me like a heavy blanket.

Mom was practically vibrating with excitement. I hadn't been home for the holidays in three years, having traded every family gathering just to keep Harrison company in the city.

But her joy quickly melted into her favorite routine. "You're almost thirty, Hazel. When are you going to get serious about your life?"

She kept her eyes on the road, but I could feel the lecture coming. "Ronald's daughter next door is a year younger than you, and her toddler is already walking. I saw the baby the other dayso chubby and sweet. Even the new interns at my office are actively dating. Actually, a new guy just moved in next door. He's incredibly handsome. I should set you two up"

Mom trailed off, nervously checking my reaction in the rearview mirror.

I used to despise being set up. For years, I had built my entire universe around Harrison. After that one drunken night permanently blurred our boundaries, I stupidly convinced myself I had a real chance. He became my only focus.

Whenever Mom brought up dating, I'd shut her down with zero patience.

But now, watching the festive red and green lights blur past the car window, a crushing exhaustion sank into my bones. I was so tired. The thought of just stopping, of finally settling down, didn't sound like a prison sentence anymore.

"Okay," I said.

Mom gripped the steering wheel. "You don't always have to be so defensive. I know you're hung up on Harrison, butwait, what did you just say?"

I lowered my gaze. "I said okay. Introduce us."

After dinner that night, muscle memory took over, and I picked up my phone. An incoming FaceTime audio call lit up the screen.

It was Harrison.

I had set up a new number, but my old iCloud account was still logged in, letting the call ring through on Wi-Fi.

He sounded completely relaxed, as if the explosive disaster at the VIP booth had simply never happened. "Why is your line dead?"

Before I could even process the audacity, he kept going. "Whatever. I've already got everything prepped for the holidays. If there's anything else you want to add to the house, text me the list and I'll have my assistant grab it."

My grip tightened on the cold metal of my phone.

My mind suddenly flashed back to the winter his mother died. I had gone back to my hometown for Christmas that year. On Christmas Eve, I video-called him, just wanting to see his face and wish him well.

It took him a long time to answer. The screen was pitch black, save for the glowing orange cherry of a cigarette burning down in the dark.

His voice was raw, scraped hollow. "What?"

As my eyes adjusted to the low light, I saw him sitting alone on his penthouse balcony. The floor around him was a graveyard of empty liquor bottles and crushed cigarette butts. Behind him, the city skyline was exploding with brilliant, colorful holiday fireworks.

But the warmth of the season completely bypassed him.

He just sat there on the freezing ledge, staring at a world of happiness that didn't belong to him, smoking alone in the dark.

Chapter 8

My chest tightened. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and forced a laugh. "Just calling to say Merry Christmas early. Where's my gift?"

A low chuckle vibrated through the speaker, followed immediately by a ping from my banking app. He had just wired me fifteen thousand dollars.

I stared at the screen, the breath catching in my throat.

A long beat of silence passed before his voice came back, dropping into a raw whisper. "Hazel, come back early. I'm so"

The wind howling through his phone completely swallowed the rest of his sentence. To this day, I still don't know if he was going to say he was lonely, or if he just missed me.

I dropped everything. I fed my parents some lie about a massive corporate emergency and booked the next red-eye back to New York. By 3 A.M., the city was still flashing with neon and crawling with yellow cabs, but Harrison's penthouse was completely dark.

I hammered my fist against his heavy front door, my breath coming out in ragged clouds. "Harrison! Open up!"

I figured he was passed out, but the deadbolt clicked almost instantly. He stood in the doorway, staring at me like I was a hallucination. The cocky, untouchable facade was totally gone.

"You" he breathed, frozen in place. "Why are you back?"

I gave him the brightest smile I could muster. "I came to spend Christmas with you."

He didn't say a word. He just kept staring at me with those dark, unreadable eyes.

Just as the silence started to stretch into something awkward, he lunged forward and dragged me into his chest. His arms wrapped around me like a vice, holding me so tight I could feel his ribs pressing into mine.

Since that night, staying in the city for the holidays had become our unspoken rule.

But now, with Willow warming his bed, I couldn't believe he actually had the nerve to call me.

I stared out my childhood bedroom window. "I moved back home."

A heavy pause hit the line. He clearly hadn't seen that coming.

"Right," he finally said, his tone deliberately casual. "Makes sense. You haven't been back for the holidays in years. You should visit."

"Yeah." My grip on the phone turned my knuckles white.

The silence stretched out, brittle and empty. Then, a muffled voice echoed in the background.

"Harrison! Hurry up, how do I fix the hot water?"

Willow.

"Coming," Harrison called back over his shoulder.

"I'm hanging up now," I said flatly.

"Yeah." His voice gave absolutely nothing away.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and tapped the red button. The screen went black.

I thought I'd lie awake agonizing over it, but my exhausted body shut down the second my head hit the pillow.

When my eyes snapped open, the digital clock read 2:14 A.M.

My throat was burning. The forced-air heating in the suburbs was bone-dry, and my body wasn't used to it anymore. I slipped out of bed, padded downstairs to the kitchen, and downed a glass of ice water.

I was halfway back to the stairs when a sharp sound made me freeze.

A heavy shuffle, coming straight from the downstairs guest bathroom.

An intruder.

Every muscle in my body locked up. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

I held my breath, terrified to make a single sound. My phone was upstairs. I had to get back to my room to dial 911.

Shaking uncontrollably, I pressed my bare foot against the cold hardwood, inching blindly toward the stairs.

But right as I passed the bathroomthe door violently jerked open.

Pure adrenaline exploded in my veins.

I grabbed the heavy umbrella leaning against the wall and swung it as hard as I could at the dark figure looming in the doorway.

A massive hand shot out of the shadows, catching the metal shaft effortlessly. Before I could even rip my throat open to scream, the figure yanked me forward, slamming a rough, calloused palm hard over my mouth.

Chapter 9

I slammed hard against a chest as solid and scorching as marble. The man wore nothing but a towel slung low and loose around his waist. Beads of water trailed down his sharp, defined V-line, disappearing into the terry cloth.

With effortless, terrifying strength, he pinned both my arms against the wall with one single hand. His rough thumb brushed along my jawline. The raw, overwhelming wave of dark masculine energy and the sharp, intoxicating scent of verbena instantly stole the air right out of my lungs.

Holy shit. Not only did this intruder break into my house, but he was half-naked!

A choked gasp tore from my throat. I twisted my head and sank my teeth into his forearm, thrashing against his grip.

But he was built like a tank. His grip was absolute iron.

The second I realized fighting was useless, my adrenaline completely crashed into blind terror. Panic seized my chest. If he realized I saw his face, he'd kill me to silence meand my parents were asleep right upstairs!

I started sobbing, my voice violently shaking. "Please, don't hurt me! There's an envelope of emergency cash in the cabinet by the window. It's about three hundred bucks! If that's not enough, I can Venmo or Zelle you! I don't have much, maybe a few thousand in savings, but you can have it all! Just take it and let me go!"

"We'll pretend this never happened, I never saw your face! I'm young, I've barely even dated, I'm not marriedplease don't kill me"

A low, throaty chuckle vibrated right next to my ear.

Then, the bright overhead light flicked on.

I squinted against the blinding glare. When my vision finally cleared, a devastatingly handsome young man was standing right in front of me. He was completely bare-chested. Stray droplets of water traced the hard, sculpted lines of his torso, sliding down his obliques before dripping onto the hardwood floor.

He was insanely tallat least six-foot-twotowering a full head over me. I felt like a trembling Chihuahua standing next to him.

I stared at him for a solid ten seconds, my mind going blank. "Dude," I blurted out, my voice thick with disbelief. "With a face and body like that, you could make ten grand a night on OnlyFans. Why the hell are you breaking into a poor family's house?"

A slow, teasing smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. That's when I realized his voice was unfairly attractive, deep and resonant.

"You must be Barbara's daughter, Hazel." He stepped back, giving me some space. "I'm the renter from next door. The water heater over there busted, so your mom told me I could use this bathroom. Sorry for scaring you half to death."

I blinked, my sleep-deprived brain finally catching up. On the drive from the airport, Mom had casually mentioned renting out the neighboring house. Years ago, my parents bought two adjacent coastal properties. They weren't mansions, but they had killer oceanfront views from the balconies.

As this sleepy town started gaining traction as a tourist spot, they began renting the second house out for extra cash.

Absolute, fiery mortification rushed straight to my face. I wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow me whole. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry, I"

The man waved it off. "My fault. You caught me off guard toohiss." He flinched. Right on his thick forearm, a perfect, deep circle of my teeth marks was already welling up with blood.

Guilt hit me like a truck. "I am so, so sorry. Let me grab the first-aid kit and clean that up for you."

When I boarded that flight home, I never in a million years expected that my very first night back would end with me sitting on the living room sofa next to a half-naked, gorgeous stranger.

We were sitting so close our shoulders were practically brushing.

I carefully dabbed a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic over the bite mark. During the impromptu triage, I learned his name was Sebastian. He was an artist, spending the winter on the coast for inspiration.

"It looks pretty deep," I muttered, frowning as I inspected the broken skin. "Do you think you need a tetanus shot?"

Sebastian rubbed his jawline, his expression deadly serious. "Honestly? I think I need a rabies shot."

It took me a full two seconds to realize he was calling me a dog.

I snapped my head up to glare at him, but since I was the one who practically chewed his arm off, it lacked any real venom.

Sebastian let out a rich, effortless laugh. "I will say, thoughyour bite mark is perfectly symmetrical. Very aesthetically pleasing."

Chapter 10

Mom was absolutely obsessed with Sebastian. She constantly found excuses to drag him over for dinner.

She'd shoot me these aggressive, not-so-subtle winks. "Sebastian is such a catch. He's always helping your dad and me around the house. And look at him! With a face like that, if you two got married, your kids would be"

I rubbed my temples, cutting her off. "Mom, please. Drop it."

It wasn't that I thought Sebastian was beneath me. It was the exact opposite. A few days ago, he'd casually tossed his winter coat over our living room sofa. I recognized the label.

I'd seen Harrison wear the exact same brand. It was a bespoke piece from a centuries-old Italian tailoring house. That single coat cost at least six figures.

Sebastian was a billionaire playing house in the suburbs. We were completely different species.

But he knew exactly how to work a room. He charmed my parents effortlessly. Ever since he moved in next door, he was the one hauling the heavy firewood inside and fixing the frozen pipes. Even my dad, who hated everyone, couldn't stop singing his praises.

Naturally, Mom dragged him over for our New Year's Eve dinner.

I pulled her into the kitchen, keeping my voice in a sharp whisper. "Why did you invite him?"

Mom swatted my arm. "Sebastian is all alone over there! You want him to sit in an empty house and eat takeout on New Year's Eve? Have a heart, Hazel."

I gave up.

Ten minutes later, I was watching Sebastian sit at our dining table, those devastating eyes practically sparkling as he dug in. "Barbara, this lasagna is incredible."

Mom beamed so hard I thought her face would crack. She immediately shoved another massive slice onto his plate. "Eat up! There's plenty!"

The wine started flowing, and Mom, completely devoid of boundaries, looped right back to her favorite topic. She shot me a heavy sigh. "Hazel, when are you finally going to bring a decent man home?"

My face burned. I kicked her under the table. "Mom, stop. We have company."

Sebastian didn't even flinch. He looked right at me, his gaze entirely too focused. "Hazel is gorgeous. I'm sure guys are lining up for her. You have nothing to worry about, Barbara."

Mom scoffed, waving her wine glass. "Well, she gets her looks from me! She was a beautiful baby. Hold on, I'm getting the photo albums!"

I slammed my fork down. "Mom, absolutely not!"

Sebastian leaned back, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his handsome face. "I'd love to see them."

To my absolute horror, Mom actually hauled out the dusty family albums and sat right next to Sebastian on the couch.

"Look at this one! Hundred days old. So chubby!"

"And here! All the neighbors used to say she looked like a little porcelain doll."

"Oh, her third-grade talent show! Look at that awful stage makeup!"

Dad called Mom into the kitchen to help with the dessert, mercifully interrupting the roast. I walked over to the couch, my face burning with humiliation. "Look, she's overbearing. You don't have to pretend to care. Just close the book."

Sebastian didn't move. He kept his eyes on a faded Polaroid of me missing my two front teeth. He slowly looked up, his clear eyes reflecting the warm living room lights.

"I'm not pretending." His voice dropped, losing all the playful sarcasm. "She's right. You were really cute."

I froze, completely pinned by his gaze.

After watching the Times Square ball drop on TV, the neighborhood erupted. Fireworks weren't strictly legal here, but this town never cared. Bursts of cheap, colorful sparks lit up the dark winter sky above the ocean.

I stood alone on the freezing balcony, a cold beer tight in my grip.

Despite the noise, my mind drifted to a text my friend had sent me earlier. She told me Harrison was flying Willow out to the Cheval Blanc Randhelia hyper-exclusive resort in the Maldivesfor the holidays.

Her text was dripping with frustration.

[You stayed by his side for years. How did you not lock him down? If you had played your cards right, you'd never have to work another day in your life.]

I took a slow sip of my beer, letting the bitter chill wash over my tongue.

Chapter 11

I stared up at the night sky, drawing in a sharp breath of the freezing winter air. He was definitely blowing cash with his little girlfriend on some tropical island right now, but I was completely over it. My friend once told me this shady, hidden arrangement of mine was pathetic.

She was right.

But right now, I only felt a crushing sense of relief. I never had to compromise my own dignity to cater to him on this damn holiday ever again.

For years, I had clung to him without a title. I used to be so terrified of losing him that I convinced myself any scrap of intimacy meant he was mine. But those fake highs were exactly like the fireworks exploding above mea bright flash, and then nothing but dead ash.

"Mind if I join?"

My thoughts snapped back to the present. I turned around.

Sebastian stood near the sliding glass door, an unlit cigarette resting between his lips. He tilted his handsome face toward me.

I shook my head. He stepped out onto the freezing balcony, cupping his hands around a silver lighter as he sparked the cigarette and took a long, deep drag.

I tried to fill the silence. "Is it okay for you to be out here alone for the holidays? Where are your parents?"

Sebastian exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. His voice was completely flat. "They're very far away."

I wanted to slap myself. Panic seized my chest, and I rushed to apologize. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry!"

Sebastian glanced down at me, a wicked glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "They're on a luxury cruise to Antarctica."

I clamped my mouth shut, my cheeks burning hot in the winter wind.

Sebastian let out a rich, effortless laugh. The smoke caught in his throat, making him cough. Without missing a beat, he reached down, grabbed the open beer resting on the railing next to me, and took a long swig.

"Uh," I said, my voice completely dry. "I already drank out of that."

He didn't even blink. He smoothly picked up an unopened bottle from the table, popped the metal cap, and handed it to me, keeping my half-empty one securely in his grip. "What do people usually do around here in the winter?" he asked, shifting the subject effortlessly.

I thought about it for a second. "There isn't much to do. It gets way too cold. I guess people go to the movies."

Sebastian gave a slow nod.

I broke the quiet again, genuinely curious. "Why did you choose to come here, anyway?"

"Inspiration," Sebastian said, narrowing his eyes as he looked out over the dark, churning ocean. "Don't you think the winter here is stunning?"

"I guess. When are you leaving?"

He didn't answer right away. A long moment passed. He crushed the butt of his cigarette into an empty soda can, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching the corner of his mouth. "I originally planned to head out in the spring. But suddenly, I feel like staying a little longer."

"Why?"

"Because"

My phone vibrated violently against the metal railing. An unknown number flashed on the bright screen. I held up a finger to Sebastian. He got the hint immediately, offering a slight nod before stepping back inside the warm house.

"Hello?"

Dead silence hung on the other end of the line. Then, Harrison's voice came through.

"Hazel. You changed your number