Lost to You by - (best non fiction books to read txt) 📖

class of the week let out on Friday, I wound my way through the crowds toward my apartment. I’m sure I appeared a tourist, my head raised as I soaked up the details of every building and landmark.

My building was a drab block of gray brick, glued between two taller buildings on each side. I jogged up the stairs to the second floor. Turning the key in the lock, the door opened to my small studio apartment.

Well, small didn’t really describe it.

A twin bed was pushed lengthwise up against the far wall to the right, and a miniature kitchen lined the opposite wall to my left. Straight back was the only separate room—a bathroom so small I could fit it in my back pocket.

But I loved it.

It was mine, my own space, a reward for what I’d worked so hard to achieve.

Crossing the five steps to the other end of the room, I sighed in satisfaction and dropped my backpack to the bed, shrugged out of my jeans, and pulled on some black yoga pants.

If I had to spend my Friday night studying, I wanted to be comfortable.

Flopping onto my unmade bed, I dug out the books I needed from my bag.

Afternoon light filtered in through the window, wrapping the room in a cozy glow. I snuggled up and hunkered down. In order to stay in New York, I had to keep all my scholarships, so I couldn’t risk letting any of my grades slip.

I dove into my first class, reading through the materials that were due the next class period.

Late afternoon bled into evening, time passing quickly. The room had begun to darken, and I reached over to twist the switch to the small lamp that rested on the floor next to the bed.

The light bulb flickered on.

A dim light seeped up the back wall and illuminated my book. I figured I couldn’t put it off any longer, so I changed to my most dreaded subject—math. If there was one subject that would ruin me, math was it. I flipped to the correct chapter.

My mouth moved slowly as I struggled to absorb the instructions and somehow make sense of the numbers.

I looked to the ceiling and groaned.

Completely hopeless.

My phone rang from the front pocket of my backpack. It was a welcomed distraction.

Mom called me almost every evening, and I was anxious to hear her voice, for her to tell me she missed me as much as I missed her.

Unzipping the pocket, I rummaged around to pull the phone free and glanced at the screen.

But no, it wasn’t her.

I frowned as I stared at the number lit up on the screen. It was a number I really hadn’t anticipated seeing tonight.

Actually, I was kind of shocked.

It didn’t mean his face hadn’t fluttered in and out of my consciousness over the past week or that I had forgotten that smile. It just meant when I made the offer, I never really believed he’d take me up on it.

A flicker of excitement sparked in my stomach. I chalked it up to being lonely.

Accepting the call, I placed it against my ear.

“Hello?” I realized I was smiling. No doubt, he could blatantly hear it coloring my voice.

Ridiculous.

“Hey, Elizabeth, it’s Christian.” His voice was easy, filled with the same confidence he’d approached me with at the beginning of the week. This time it didn’t throw me. I expected it. Welcomed it, even.

“Hi, Christian. What are you up to?”

“I just got out of my last class for the day. Wanted to find out where you’re studying.”

“Um . . .” I glanced around my tiny apartment that I could only imagine was smaller than Christian’s closet.

I tried to picture him here.

Ridiculous.

“I’m actually studying at my place.” I bit at my lip, and I couldn’t help but tease, “What, no hot date for the evening?”

His voice dropped low, hinting at humor and something else I didn’t want to recognize. “What, you didn’t believe me when I said I was going to spend the evening studying with you? You’re going to learn to trust me, you know.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so.” A current of suggestion slipped through his voice. This guy had to be the most dangerous predator walking the streets of New York City.

So why did I seem to like him so much?

I rattled off my address, then told him, “All right then. I’ll be waiting.”

Ending the call, I hopped off my small bed and ran around to pick up the dirty clothes I’d left in random piles around the room.

It wasn’t like the studio was dirty—it was just cluttered.

My arms were full of clothes when there was a tap at my door.

I tossed them into the hamper next to my bed before rushing over to unlatch it.

And just like he promised to be, Christian, in all his perfect glory, stood at my door.

Oh God.

Men should not be that pretty.

And of course, he had to unleash that smile on me. “Hey, Elizabeth.”

Again, with the stomach flip.

He shouldered his way into my apartment before I had time to step out of his way. He huffed out a weighted breath as he turned a slow circle to take in my apartment, a casual smile on his face when he turned back to me. “You don’t know how happy I am it’s Friday. How about you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready for a little down time,” I admitted, closing the door behind us, stopping to admire him standing in the middle of my room.

He didn’t look so out of place, after all.

“I think I’m finally getting a handle on my schedule and routine.” I sidestepped around him and crossed the room, moved some papers around to make a place for him to sit down on my bed/couch. “I was pretty overwhelmed last week, but I’m getting used to it. Finding my way around the city isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.”

I grinned and gestured to the spot I’d cleared. “Make yourself at home. I don’t exactly have a lot of space.”

He looked around again. “Yeah . . . I kind of noticed that.”

Without any hesitation, Christian plopped down on my bed like he belonged there. Shrugging his backpack from his shoulders, he scooted back to rest against the wall, his long body sprawled across the width of the bed with his feet hanging over the edge.

Dull light glinted off the playful blue eyes looking back at me after they made a pass over my bed. “But I think we could make it work.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you wish.”

Christian just laughed.

“And don’t go knocking my apartment,” I said as I curled back onto my spot on the bed. I grabbed my textbook and pulled it onto my lap. “This place is perfect for me, don’t you think?”

He shook his head as if he didn’t understand me at all. A mild chuckle rumbled in his chest.

We both knew there was no denying my place was kind of a dump.

He sobered, his words not quite matching the confused expression on his face. “You really like it here?”

It wasn’t mocking, just an honest question as he searched my face for the truth.

“You don’t work so hard for something and not appreciate it, even if it isn’t the nicest place in the world.”

His smile was soft. “Well, I guess it’s perfect, then, Elizabeth.”

His expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite grasp, something that worked to unravel all the reservations I held twisted inside of me. The smile slipped from his mouth, his head angled as his gaze seemed to swallow me whole.

I could almost taste him, the heavy breaths he panted filling the air, diminishing the space between us.

He was a walking contradiction, flipping from this joking, easygoing guy who seemed to understand this was a study session, to this extreme intensity that threatened to set my skin on fire.

I wondered if anyone else noticed it. Wondered if they could see what simmered and churned in the blue of his eyes.

Something real and genuine and consuming. Something that left me more unnerved than I’d ever been in my life.

I struggled to curb my reaction to him, fought the part of me that liked it.

Craved it.

The part of me that wished he’d give in and succumb to what I saw so vividly playing out in his eyes.

But that would be a very bad idea.

No way could I allow him to set me off kilter in my own home. I couldn’t allow him to detract from the reason I was here or the decision I’d made on Monday.

If Christian wanted to hang out, if he wanted a friend, that was cool. I could handle that.

The truth was, I wanted him here.