His to Love (His #3)

Chapter 1

3 years earlier

I believe in coincidences.

I don't know what made me believe in them. But there are some things in your life that happen by coincidence. You can't call it anything else. They're not planned and you're not prepared for them. Life just decides to throw something at you, whether you're ready or not.

And it's on you how you'll react to it at that moment. It often makes me think about how different would some things turn out if I reacted to coincidences in a completely different way than I did.

It's called overthinking. And I'm really good at doing that.

''Brooke! We still need a few boxes to carry up.''

I groan. ''If I have to carry one more box up there, I'm going to pass out, Amy.'' I don't even exaggerate it.

Amy chuckles and lightly punches me in the arm. I make a face at her and rub the spot she just hit, giving her a judgmental look for doing this.

''Oh, come on! You should really go to the gym sometimes with me. It might help you in a situation like this.'' She grins when she sees my disgusted face.

''Thank you, health guru. But I think I'll continue living my happy unhealthy life by eating like a pig.'' I show her my tongue.

Amy lifts her eyebrows up and shoves another big box in my hands. ''Let's see if this unhealthy pig can carry up another box.''

I groan again. ''Can't you just shoot me instead? It's going to hurt way less,'' I mutter as I go past her, painfully slow.

When Braden, my brother, showed me this flat, I fell in love with it instantly. But now, I'm cursing it in every language I know.

It's a day I move in and one of my best friends, Amy, was kind enough to help me out. ''Sweet. It's going to be a great workout for my legs and butt,'' I mimic her words in an annoying way when I'm walking up those stairs for probably the hundredth time today and my legs hurt like a little bitch.

I can just see how fun it's going to be walking tomorrow.

Screw sporty people. Couldn't they build an elevator in this building for a lazy-ass like me who's in the worst shape possible?

I'm also starting to curse how many things I have. All these damn clothes ... who even needs all that?

If I throw them all away, I won't have to come back up again ...

I put the box down on the floor by the door and sit down on it, letting myself have that much-needed and well-deserved rest.

Amy comes through the door only seconds after. I could already hear her murmuring a song under her breath. She's easily carrying two boxes at once, walking up the stairs as if she had her hands empty. I scowl at her when she gives me a big grin.

''Come, B, there are not many boxes left anymore.''

I rest my head on my knees. ''Throw them all away and leave me here to die,'' I groan pathetically.

''A little overdramatic?'' Amy asks. I can still hear that damn grin in her voice. How does she have the energy to smile?

''Not at all,'' I comment, still not lifting my head up. I'm pretty comfortable like that.

''Knock knock. I heard I'm getting a new neighbour. Need some help?''

At that, my head lifts up. ''If I could move, I'd drop down to my knees and propose to you,'' I say with the clear relief in my voice.