When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1) by Amy Leigh Simpson Page B

without having some blow-out argument. There’s too much friction.”
    “You know what friction produces, right?” Joselyn’s violet-blue eyes danced with mischief. “ Heat .”
    “Please, really. I’ve been getting it from all sides—my mom, Finn, I could use a break.”
    “All right, fine. You are so not fun. Could you at least tell me what he looks like? I’m picturing tall, dark, and tasty.” Joselyn propped her elbow on the table, dropped her chin onto her palm, and nibbled her perfectly manicured pinky fingernail.
    “Pretty much.”
    She deadpanned, let her arm drop. “Aw, come on! That’s all I get? How tall?”
    Should she humor her? Sadie pursed her lips to one side. “At least six three or four.”
    “Oooo. How dark?” Joss leaned forward as if hanging on every word.
    A bubble of laughter burst the balloon of stress filling in her belly. “Well, he’s got sort of olive, naturally tanned skin, a little curl to his mocha-brown hair, and really intense light brown eyes—with flecks of gold and maybe a little green. And his smile …” She was swooning, lost in the image she’d just conjured up with life-like animation. Abruptly, she reeled her pathetic brain back from its trip to la-la land, not caring to complete the rest of the sketch.
    Not seeming bothered by the ellipsis, Joselyn sighed dreamily. “Wow. If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
    “Please. He’s all yours.” Sadie looked to her friend and saw sympathy etched across her flawless face. And that was her cue to change the subject.
    It was late by the time Sadie pulled in to the parking lot outside her and Charlie’s building. Really dark too, she noted. The street light that illuminated the path to her door was out. Making a mental note to call maintenance tomorrow, she locked up the Camaro and headed down the eerily dark path to her door.
    Wow, the inky black darkness was nearly complete. Not a speck of moonlight in sight. A coffin of dense foliage hiding even the stars. Her breath tightened. With each wary step her corked heels struck soundlessly against the pavement.
    From behind her an almost imperceptible scuff marked the still night air, jolting her dormant spidey-sense to red alert. Then she heard it again.
    She wasn’t alone.
    Suffering a momentary arrhythmia, her heart then tripped into overtime, pounding Hawaii Five-O on her eardrums. The walkway only led to her and Charlie’s building. Who else would be here this time of night?
    The math nerd segment of her brain took one panicked moment to calculate the successful outcome of the twenty-yard dash—in heels—combined with accurate aim and precision with the keys yielding to safe refuge. Clumsiness, nearly blind darkness, tomboy in heels, all the variables were factored in. The equation blinked back a success rate of about three percent. Which seemed generous.
    Increasing her pace, time stretched like taffy as she started digging through her purse for her phone or maybe a pen. Anything sharp or heavy.
    Why wasn’t she carrying her gun? At her dad’s discomfort with her living alone, Sadie had gotten a license to conceal and carry years ago, but she never thought she needed to walk around packing—after all she lived in a relatively safe part of town.
    Then again, Charlie was murdered. Perhaps nowhere was particularly safe.
    Who lurks around on a dark walkway? None of the profiles she conjured up seemed promising. Should she turn and face the person head-on or run as fast as the stupid heels would carry her?
    Her skin prickled as the presence closed in, her search in the cluttered purse proving useless. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. OhGodohGodohGod. Help. She acted as quickly as her panicked mind would allow.
    In one swift movement, she shuffled backward, sending a karate-style kick as hard as she could into the dark.
    Contact.
    From the sound that escaped the man, she’d kicked him in the stomach—knocking the wind out of him—before