Moving On

Table of Contents About the Book Title Page Copyright Dedication Acknowledgments Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Epilogue About Felice Stevens About the Book When his roof caves in, Sean Lovett thinks things can't get any worse. Until he loses his job, adding yet another bump in the rocky road of his life. None of his so-called friends can—or will—help. And asking a favor from his abusive ex? Hard pass. Luckily, his sister comes to the rescue and offers him a great apartment—in the city, no less—until he can get back on his feet. Sweet deal. Until a gorgeous man unlocks the front door and strolls right in with a grumpy attitude and a claim that his boss—who happens to be Sean’s brother-in-law—promised him the same apartment. Former NYPD detective Tristan McDermott hasn’t stopped running since the death of his best friend. After almost two years of living in his own personal hell, he returns home to New York, hoping he can move on, but guilt still follows his every step. He's grateful to have the perfect apartment until he can settle into a place of his own. But there’s a cute guy already living there. And only one bedroom. And no way is Tristan leaving. He’s staying put. Sharing the space is tough, but Tristan can ignore sweet Sean and his sunshiny smiles. Kind of. Except Sean's brother-in-law asks Tristan to keep an eye on Sean so he doesn't make any bad decisions. Uh oh. Keeping an eye on Sean is easy. Keeping his hands off him is much, much harder. And sleeping together...well, that isn't a bad decision. Not when it feels so good. Right? MOVING ON By Felice Stevens Moving On January 2023 Copyright (c) 2023 by Felice Stevens Edited by Keren Reed Copy editing and proofreading by Flat Earth Editing Additional proofreading by Lyrical Lines Cover Art by Reese Dante Cover Photography by CJC Photography Cover Model: Jered Youngblood All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from Felice Stevens at www.felicestevens.com. Published in the United States of America This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Dedication To Hope. I promised you Tristan’s story. It just took a little time. Acknowledgments Thanks to the incredible group of professionals, without whom I couldn’t do what I love. I hope you all know you’re stuck with me. Thank you to Keren, for everything you do for me. To Hope and Jess, thank you for being the best of the best. Thank you Dianne, for your professionalism, great catches and friendship. And to Reese for the most beautiful covers possible, and everything else. Most of all, thank you to all the readers who make my dreams come true every day. Chapter One It was never pleasant to lie on the wet spot. And even less so when you were alone. A creaking sound awakened Sean Lovett, and when he opened his eyes, he screamed. The sky was falling, and his life flashed before his eyes. “What the fu—oh, my God.” Stark naked, Sean jumped up, narrowly escaping the torrent of water pouring from a huge hole over his bed. Booming thunder and lightning shook the over-one-hundred-year-old, five-story building he lived in, while rain and hail pelted the windows. The howl of the wind from the opening in the roof made it hard to concentrate, but from the amount of water spilling into the small studio he’d lived in for the past three years, Sean knew he had only a few minutes to grab whatever he could shove into his backpack and a slightly damp overnight bag. He pulled on a T-shirt and stepped into boxers and jeans. God, everything he owned was in this small space, but he remembered to save the most important thing—the picture of himself and his sister. That and his laptop were all he was able to manage. The rest was a wash. Literally. Alarms blared, and Sean heard people yelling from downstairs, “Fire! There’s a fire in the basement. Get out!” After shoving his feet into mismatched flip-flops, he ran out the door, closing it just as the entire building swayed on its crippled frame. “Well, I’m sure as hell not coming home anytime soon.” * * * Three days later, Sean sat in his sister’s bright-yellow kitchen, sipping coffee, trying to figure out how to escape from hell. Now, he loved Charlotte, make no mistake. She and her husband, Ray, were nice enough to take him in like the stray he was after his building had collapsed like a wet deck of cards the night of the worst storm to hit the East Coast in ten years. He’d arrived on their doorstep in the early dawn, shivering and soaked through. The Red Cross had offered shelter to everyone, but after a hasty text to one of his friends who didn’t answer, he’d called Charlotte to tell her what happened. Of course, she’d insisted he come stay with them. Ray was some hotshot executive for an international bank and traveled extensively. At the moment, he was on a business trip to London, and when Sean showed up, Charlotte was grateful for his company. They had a big house on Long Island with plenty of room. Plenty of room was relative because Charlotte and Ray had a little boy, Carlo, who was six, and twin girls, Julia and Fiona, who were turning three soon. In other words, a zoo. Charlotte’s reassurance that he’d barely notice the kids had been destroyed that first day,