"Deal."
The hallway was silent. Her roommate, Jenna, was on a business trip. The landlord’s office closed at five. Abella was wearing a pair of worn-out sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and one fuzzy slipper—the other had been sacrificed to a puddle near the dumpster. locked out abella danger
"Only for cute neighbors who look like they’ve had a worse day than me." Abella was wearing a pair of worn-out sweatpants,
"Of course," she muttered, pressing her forehead against the cold metal of her front door. "I owe you
Abella stepped inside, grabbed her keys off the counter, and spun around. "I owe you. Big time. How about dinner? My treat. I make a mean ramen—the non-lonely, non-cold kind."
That night, the ramen was hot, the conversation easy, and the click of the lock was forgotten. Instead, something else had started to open.
Marcus pushed the door open with a flourish. "After you, Danger."