Okay, he doesn’t want me to open my own door. I don’t even try to hide my eyeroll.
I’ve never met anyone so stuck in old-fashioned ways.
“Ivan, I’m being serious. You can’t leave this here,” I say as soon as I’m out of the car and he shuts it behind me.
“No one will touch it.” He hits the fob and the lights flicker.
I glance at the basic sedan with paint peeling on the hood and the rusted-out minivan he’s parked between and frown.
“You stand out like a broken thumb.”
“It’ll be fine.” He sweeps his arm open again, signaling for me to go first and lead the way.
A pizza delivery guy is coming out of the building at the same time as we’re entering so I don’t have to go through the charade of trying to unlock the door. The bolt on the entrance door has been busted for months. Just the hard stare Ivan is giving the crack in the door tells me if he knew about the broken lock he’d pull out his handy dandy cell phone again.
While leading him to my apartment door, I try to conjure up at least three good reasons why he can’t come inside. Theyhave to be compelling reasons, because I’m not sure just slipping inside and shutting the door on him will work.
But it doesn’t matter. When we get to my door, it’s ajar.
“Do you have a roommate?” he asks, stepping around me.
I try to peer through the small gap. “No.”
“Stay here.” He gives me a sharp look.
Keiran wouldn’t have come back so soon. He has my phone number now; he’ll annoy me via text before he just shows up.
At least that’s my hope.
I don’t want to have to worry he’ll be taking up residence in my living room every night until I get him into one of those games.
Ivan pushes open the door, taking a slow step inside. A loud meow cracks through the dark silence of my apartment and a set of golden eyes comes rushing toward the door.
My neighbor’s cat runs through Ivan’s legs and around me before scampering down the hall.
“It was just Marion.” I reach inside and flip the light switch, illuminating the space.
Ivan looks less than convinced. “Your cat opened the door?”
“No, my neighbor’s cat.” Dropping my purse onto the little table by the door I step all the way inside. “The door must not have shut all the way when I left.”
He looks more incredulous. “How does that happen?”
Grabbing the door, he points at the deadbolt. “You have to have the door shut before you lock this.”
Between sporting a hangover, worrying about Kieran, and running late because of a nap I took trying to get rid of the hangover, I must have forgotten the deadbolt. Stupid of me, but I’m pleading exhaustion as my defense.
“I was running late. I probably just locked the handle and pulled it shut behind me.” Wiggling the handle and finding it still locked confirms my statement. “I almost always lock thedeadbolt, I was just…you know what, I don’t need to defend myself to you.”
His frown deepens.
“It was stupid, and I’m not usually that stupid, but it happened, and Marion must have pushed the door and got in.” I spin around with my arms open to the room. “Nothing’s been taken or touched. It was just the cat.”
And then I stand there while he scans the living room, waiting for the look of pity or disgust. The locker rooms at Obsidian are more glamorous than my apartment. His eyebrows pull together, like he’s trying to figure out a problem in his head.
“How much is your rent?” He walks to the set of windows that overlook the street and pushes the thin curtain to the side, peering below.
Probably making sure his car still has wheels.
