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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

“I’m hungry,” I say, as an excuse to leave the bathroom. I can’t stand her presence right now. “I’m going to order pizza.”

I’ve just hung up with the delivery guy when Blair comes marching into the living room surrounded by a cloud of perfume. With high heels, her new dress, perfect makeup, and a stylish coat on, she looks one hundred percent like a character from The Devil Wears Prada.

“Richard just texted,” she trills. “He’s downstairs. Is your pizza arriving soon?”

“No,” I sulk. “Apparently there’re a lot of people spending the night in and ordering pizza.”

“See? I told you it’s the best way to spend the night.” She smiles, and sighs. “New Year’s is so overrated, really.”

My eyes turn to slits. “Absolutely.”

“I really gotta go now.” She shrugs. “I’m staying at Richard’s tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, don’t have too much fun without me.” Blair opens the door and waltzes out of the apartment. “See yah.”

I slam the door shut after her and lean against it. What the hell?

Bitch.

She made me want to smash everything in the house. I need to relax.

The pizza boy said the wait would be well over an hour, so I might as well take a bath in the meantime. I go back to the bathroom, fill the tub to the brim with hot water, and happily empty half of Blair’s super expensive perfumed oils in it in petty revenge.

When the doorbell rings a while later, I’ve just finished changing into one of my favorite cat PJs—about eighty percent of my PJs feature cats—and am much more relaxed.

I push the speaker button on the buzzer. “I’m up on the fourth floor,” I inform the pizza boy.

“I know,” a voice I recognize instantly says back.

Diego! I hate the way my heartbeat immediately speeds up. What is he doing here?

“What are you doing here?”

“Expecting someone else?”

“Yeah, pizza. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“Now? What about a week ago, when I called you a thousand times and begged you to pick up the phone?”

“I’m sorry. Can you please let me in and insult me in person?”

No, because the moment I see his eyes, I know my brain will fry and logic will fail me. No, because I’ve just barely started feeling like a human again. And no, because this apartment is free of painful, Diego-related memories. Yeah, he lived with me for a while, but nothing cathartic or intimate happened while he was here, and I don’t want to make this place haunted, too. This is my safe haven.

“Are you still there?” comes his voice from the buzzer.