Elena hauled the last box up three flights of stairs, her arms screaming, her heart hollow.
Three years with Mark, wasted. He’d f****d her best friend in their bed while Elena was at her mother’s funeral. She’d found the texts, the pictures, the evidence of their betrayal while she was still wearing black.
She needed this. New city. New apartment. No memories.
The building was old but clean, a converted warehouse with exposed brick and pipes. Her unit was 3B, at the end of the hall. As she fumbled for her keys, the door across from hers opened.
Two men walked out. Identical. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling over foreheads in matching waves. Sharp jawlines, full lips, eyes the color of whiskey that tracked over her body with frank appreciation. They wore gym clothes — tight sh
