Sam and I walk hand in hand down the sidewalk in his neighborhood.

"I love your neighborhood," I say as I look around at the beautiful homes and well-manicured lawns.

"It's nice. I would love to get a dog to walk around the neighborhood."

I look sideways at Sam. "You're a dog guy, huh?"

"You're not?" He raises a brow.

"A guy? No, sorry to disappoint you, Sam," I say, smirking.

"For the record, I'm not disappointed that you're not a guy. I was talking about the dog, smart ass." He shoves me with his shoulder.

I can't help but laugh. "Oh... yeah, I like dogs, but with our crazy schedules, it would be hard to care for a dog how it deserves to be taken care of."

He nods in agreement. "Hence why I don't have a dog."

After about five minutes of walking, we approach an adorable Cape Cod-style house with a for-sale sign on the beautifully landscaped front yard. The house is pale yellow with a hunter-green front door, garage door, and shutters. It has a gorgeous front porch that goes across the entire front of the house. The two-car garage is attached, and I'm already in love.

"Please say this is the house," I plead, fluttering my lashes.

A car pulls into the driveway.

Sam squeezes my hand. "It is."

My excitement is evident as I can't stand still. "If the inside is anything like the outside, I'm all in."

He smiles and gently squeezes my hand. "I thought that you would like it."

Before even thinking, get on my tippy toes and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"If that is how you thank me, please remind me to do nice things for you more often." His lip turns up with a grin.

I intertwine my fingers with his and chuckle as we walk up to the realtor.

"Hello, Dr. Daniels?" the realtor says unsure.

"Yes, hello." The men shake hands.

"This is my friend Mallory Stevens," Sam introduces me.

"Hello," I say, reaching out my hand.

"Hello, I'm Dave Thatcher. It's very nice to meet you," he said while taking my hand.

"Likewise," I reply.

Dave smiles. "Shall we go inside?"

"Yes, please." I clap my hands like an enthusiastic child.

Sam grins at my excitement.

I shrug. "What? I'm excited."

He chuckles. "I can see that."

I practically drag him into the front door that the realtor just opened.

"Nice," Sam says as we look around the entranceway.

"It is." I agree, my eyes darting around, attempting to take it all in.

It has a foyer with a cathedral ceiling and hardwood floors. To the left of the front door is a white staircase leading up to the second floor.

Dave speaks up, "To the right is the living room. As you can see, it has a large front bow window that lets in a lot of light and is the perfect place to put plants."

Sam and I look around. I love how the natural light brightens the entire room, and the hardwood floors flow into the living area from the foyer.

"Please feel free to roam the house and property at your leisure. I'll be in the kitchen if you have any questions," Dave adds before setting us free to view the house.

"Thank you, Dave." I look up at Sam and smile. "Let's go upstairs."

"After you." He waves his hand towards the stairs.

We head back through the foyer and up the stairs. There's a full bath at the top of the stairs and bedrooms to the left and right.

"These are cute. I like the window seats in both of the bedrooms." We walk over to the window.

Sam lifts the top of the seat in the window. "Look here, it's storage."

"It's very inviting," I reply, peeking inside.

We head back downstairs, through the living room, and into the dining area and kitchen.

Dave looks up when we enter. "Any questions?"

"Nope, we're still looking," I say as I glance around the kitchen.

The large kitchen has white-washed cabinets, white subway tile backsplash, and stainless steel appliances. The hardwood floor stops in the dining area, and the kitchen has grey and white swirled ceramic tile.

"Great. Well, through the kitchen, the door to the left is the main bedroom and ensuite. Across from that is half a bath and laundry room. Dave informs us that you can go to the backyard through the dining area's French doors or the laundry room."

"Thank you."

Sam and I continue through the kitchen to the main bedroom, then the gorgeous backyard. The stone patio has a built-in fire pit, and trees line the back of the yard, giving me some privacy.

"I'm absolutely in love with this house," I admit to Sam, my heart beating wildly.

"I like how you can live on just the first floor," Sam adds.

I smile so wide that my face hurts. "Yeah, me too. I could live in that bedroom. It's over half the length of the house. Not to mention, it has as much natural light as the living room. Don't even get me started on that great walk-in closet and whirlpool tub."

"So, are you going to make an offer?" Sam looks at me expectantly.

"I think that I am; it's perfect for me."

I made an offer on the house, the owner countered, and I accepted.

It's move-in day, and I'm so giddy.

Sam, not so much. "I feel like all we do is move shit."

"Well, hello, Mr. Grumpy Pants." I frown.

"Hopefully, this will be it," Scott adds.

Kendall agrees, "Truth."

I start passing around donuts and coffee, our moving day staple.

"Here, drink your caffeine and eat some sugar. If that combination doesn't turn your grumpy frowns upside down, you, my friends, are lost causes."

"Yeah, yeah, just feed the bear already," Sam grimaces.

We met at Sam's house. Kendall's parents are keeping two-month-old Benny Boy. After donuts and coffee, the men picked up the moving truck while Kendall and I went to my storage unit.

"I'm totally in love with your house," Kendall says as we enter the car.

"Me, too. It's the perfect size for me," I reply.

We arrive at the storage unit and prepare for the guys to move the oversized items. They pull up as we move the last small items out of the way.

Scott jumps out of the moving truck and remarks, "Nice work, ladies."

"Thank you," Kendall and I say in unison.

It does not take us long to pack up the truck and return to my new home.

"Is that the last box?" I ask as Sam comes through the door.

"Yep. Of course, it says spare room. Thank God that'll be the last trip I ever make up these damn stairs," Sam grumbles.

"The last trip, huh? We'll see about that," I shoot back.

He gives me a menacing look.

I smile brightly at him and shrug my shoulders. "At least I can promise you it's the last time you'll be up those steps today."

While Kendall and I finish putting the kitchen stuff away, the guys are putting my bed together.

Sam comes into the kitchen. "What time is the pizza coming? I'm starving."

I looked at my phone to check the time. "Five minutes. Can you go into the garage, grab that big cooler, and bring it back to the patio?"

"Only if you promise me that there's a shit-ton of beer in it," Sam quips.

Scott comes around the corner. "Did somebody say beer?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, it's packed full of beer."

"Then, what the hell are we doing standing here? Where's this promised beer that you speak of?" Scott inquires, looking around.

"It's in the garage. Want to help?" Sam jumps in.

Scott starts walking towards the garage. "If it means getting a beer faster, count me in."

Kendall and I shake heads and put the last dishes in the cabinet. The doorbell rings, and I go to answer it, pay for the pizza, and meet Kendall and the guys in the back. They already have a fire started in the pit. The previous owners had left a generous supply of firewood stacked in the back of the yard by the trees.

"Pizza," I call out as I open the door to the patio.

Sam jumps up. "Thank goodness, I was just about to gnaw my arm off."

I raise my brow. "That's a little dramatic, Sam."

"I tell it like it is, Mal."

Sam has just recently started calling me by the nickname Kendall and Scott call me. It's sweet. I take the deck chair next to Sam, grab a slice for myself, and then pass the box to Sam. He takes two pieces and then gives the box to Kendall and Scott. We spent the evening around the fire pit, laughing and drinking. I look around at the friends who mean the world to me and feel so blessed.

I've been in my home for three months. As I lay in bed with the sun shining brightly into my room, I reflect on a year ago today when tragedy momentarily snatched my life away. I took today off, and now I'm second-guessing that decision. Work would have taken my mind off this day, not have me wallowing in self-pity.

My doorbell rings. Who could be at my door? I look at my alarm clock: 9 a.m. I pull myself out of bed and grab a robe before going to the door. When looking through the peephole, I'm surprised at who I see.