Page 7 of Dead Pretty

What should I do?

Ignore him? Pretend that I’m not here?

“Uh, my name is Jack. I live in the building. Apartment 209. I moved in a few days ago.” His voice is clear as glass through the door. “My cat got out, and our neighbor—Chloe from apartment 212—said that you found her.”

A couple of things happen in this moment.

I realize that he knows I’m in here. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given me the whole spiel through the door. Which makes me feel stupid for acting like I wasn’t here.

This guy lives in my building?

I’ve seen him at the library but not here. But to be fair, it’s not like I see any of my neighbors. I make it my business not to.

And the cat is his. Which gives me a mixed feeling of relief and disappointment.

In this short time, I’ve really gotten to like my furry friend.

Licking my dry lips, I swallow before speaking, “Sorry. Yes. Just hold on one second.”

I work my way through the locks that keep the world out and me safely inside.

I open the door, revealing him.

He’s still wearing the clothes I saw him in earlier, sans the leather jacket. His hair is ruffled, like he just ran his fingers through it.

And close up, he is even better-looking.

Crap.

“Hi.” He has a smile on his face, but then his expression seems to click into recognition. “Oh. Hey. You work at the library, right?”

My heart thuds in my chest.

He’s seen me there.

And there I was, thinking I had been inconspicuous.

“Um … yes, I do.” My words come out croaky, like I haven’t spoken in years.

“Yeah, I thought I recognized you.” He glances over my head into my apartment. “So, you have Eleven.”

“Eleven?”

“My cat.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’ll just go get her for you.”

I turn away, and I shut the door.

Right. In. His. Face.

It’s out of habit. But also rude as hell.

I cringe.

Then, I pull the door back open and give him a sheepish look. “Sorry,” I say to him.

He just laughs. It’s an easygoing laugh but nice too. “No problem.”