Her arms dropped, and she tucked her hands into her pockets. “New York or LA—whichever city will take me.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it.”

Once again, her eyes were seeking out the window, like the answers were written on the glass. “My industry doesn’t welcome you with open arms. I’m going to have to find a crack and squeeze my way in.”

There was something so intriguing about Pearl. Different. Deeper. Like a wild bird that wasn’t supposed to be made a pet and that was what college was doing to her. Humble to the core but far too talented for Boston.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you,” I confessed.

Her smile didn’t reach as far as her eyes this time. It stopped at her nose and slowly faded. “Something tells me you won’t ever again.” She moved into the hallway and added, “Maybe we’ll cross paths again one day. See you around, Ashe.”

The door shut before I got a chance to say another word.

Several seconds passed, and I finally looked at the textbook in my lap. I scanned the words, not retaining a single one. Knowing that she was in my living room, I couldn’t concentrate. I just wanted my eyes on her, my body in her presence; something unfamiliar tugged at me to get closer to her.

I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t leave my room until I finished the chapter. I counted the double-sided pages and had eight to go, taking notes as I read to force myself to pay attention. When I reached the final sentence, I got up and went down the short hallway. But as I reached the opening of the living room, Pearl was nowhere to be found.

Where’s the hot girl? I mouthed to Dylan, the room loud, as several people were speaking.

He shrugged and replied, She had to go.

She had found her crack, and she had squeezed her way out.

If you would like to keep reading, click HERE to purchase When Darkness Ends, the final book in the Moments in Boston Series.

Sneak Peek of Even If It Hurts

My hands shook as I squeezed the envelope between my fingers, my eyes glued to the return address, scanning each of the lines over and over.

The letter had traveled so far to get here.

Just to give me an answer.

“Open it already,” my best friend said from the other side of the small room.

Slowly, I glanced up at Molly while she sat on the end of the couch, holding a tall coffee to her lips.

We’d been roommates since we were freshmen. Now, two weeks into our junior year at Boston University, I was finding out my fate for next semester. Whether I’d be here or subleasing my room to study abroad in London.