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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

He drops the bag on her bed, and before he can do or say anything, she’s giving him the rules.

“I freed this side of the closet for you,” Blair says, opening the door to show him. “And the nightstand. Everything else is still filled with my things, so please don’t touch anything.”

“I’m not diseased, you know?” Diego frowns, more jokingly than serious.

“No, I don’t. Because I know nothing about you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer.”

“I sense some hostility,” Diego says, again not serious.

“Well, sorry if I’m not super-duper pleased about my best friend’s idea to invite a perfect stranger to live in the house with her.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me.” He lifts his hands in a surrender gesture. “I tried to convince her it wasn’t necessary.”

We all move back into the living room. Diego sits on a stool while Blair walks into the kitchen. I lean against the back of the couch and observe warily as Blair takes a glass out of a cabinet and cleans it with a rag—even though it’s perfectly clean already. Then she disappears into the bathroom and comes back with one of those plastic bags you have to use for liquids on a plane. Still holding the glass enveloped in the rag, she hands it to Diego.

“Hold this, please.”

He takes it from her, looking rather puzzled. As am I.

“Okay, now put it in here,” Blair instructs, keeping the plastic bag open.

Diego drops the glass in the bag and, just as he’s looking back up with a questioning expression, Blair snaps a photo with her phone.

“What the hell?” he asks, blinded by the flash.

“All right, Mister, just be advised that if something happens to my best friend, I have your name, your picture, and your fingerprints.” She dangles the makeshift evidence bag in front of him. “The police will find you in no time.”

Diego seems more amused than offended. “Paranoid much?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “She’s just being overprotective.”

“You bet I am,” Blair snaps. “And you should also be aware that I have a trained attack dog who’d chew you to pieces if you so much as harm a hair on her head.”

To describe Chevron as a trained attack dog would be like saying Diego is a Danny DeVito lookalike—oil and water.

“And now…” Blair reaches into her bag, which is sitting on the stool next to Diego, and takes out a business card and a pen. She scribbles something on the blank side and hands it to him.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My business card,” Blair says, nonplussed. “There’s an address written on the back. We’re casting a New Year’s fashion photo-shoot. The screening starts at 10.30 a.m. on Tuesday. Don’t be late.”