Number Neighbors

Emma Hart

Contents (23)

TITLE

CHAPTER ONE – HANNAH

CHAPTER TWO – HANNAH

CHAPTER THREE – HANNAH

CHAPTER FOUR – HANNAH

CHAPTER FIVE – ISAAC

CHAPTER SIX – HANNAH

CHAPTER SEVEN – HANNAH

CHAPTER EIGHT – HANNAH

CHAPTER NINE – HANNAH

CHAPTER TEN – ISAAC

CHAPTER ELEVEN – ISAAC

CHAPTER TWELVE – HANNAH

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – HANNAH

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – HANNAH

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – HANNAH

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – ISAAC

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – HANNAH

EPILOGUE – HANNAH

THE END

COMING SOON: HOT MESS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BOOKS BY EMMA HART

NUMBER NEIGHBORS

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Cover Design by Emma Hart

Editing by Ellie at My Brother’s Editor

CHAPTER ONE – HANNAH

I Don’t Even Like Cats

If someone had told me that at the age of twenty-five I’d be a financially stable homeowner with an eight-week-old stray kitten living in a shoebox under my stairs, I, well.

I would have only believed the part about the kitten.

Probably. I mean, I wasn’t particularly a cat person. You know the type: the ones who get one cat then end up with ten in the next six months and lie on the sofa every night in a giant puddle of meowy floof.

No, I wasn’t one of those people.

I also wasn’t entirely one hundred percent financially stable, but I could pay my mortgage and eat relatively well. By relatively well, I mean I didn’t eat take out every single night.

Just sometimes.

Okay, four times a week, but I totally ordered salads, too.

A noisy meow that sounded more like a demand than anything came from the general vicinity of my feet. Glancing down, I saw a tiny black ball of fluff, one that stood out starkly against my white kitchen floor tiles. Two blue eyes looked up at me, and another large meow was accompanied by the most pathetic showing of tiny fangs I’d ever seen in my life.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. Somewhat stupidly, honestly. This kitten was almost always hungry.

Another meow.

“Fine, okay, hang on.” I reached into the cupboard and pulled out a small pouch of kitten food. More meowing accompanied as I put half of it into a stainless-steel bowl and clipped the pouch up to keep the rest of it fresh. “I’m not going to put this down if you’re going to keep yelling at me, Lucifer.”

Yes, I called the kitten Lucifer.

No, that wasn’t its name.

I had no idea what to call it. I wasn’t even sure I wanted it—and no matter what Immy and Grandma Jen said, it wasn’t mine just because I’d fed it.

Number Neighbors

Table of Contents

NUMBER NEIGHBORS

CHAPTER ONE – HANNAH