“No more tears, Pip.” He shushed me as though he knew I was one sniffle away from a full meltdown. “I’d rather get shot again than see you cry.”
“Then don’t talk about getting shot.”
His laughter was so low and deep that it was more like a hum that vibrated every nerve inside my body.
When we reached the fifth floor, he stepped out into the hallway where Haz’s and my apartments were located. I wasn’t sure how much longer the place would be Haz’s, though, because he was obviously on a fast track to movingin with Kieran.
It made me worry about who my new neighbor would be.
That’s a problem for future me.Current me had enough to deal with.
“Which apartment is yours?” Hiro asked, stopping in the center of the hallway between the two doors almost directly across from each other.
I pointed to the right, and he stepped toward it. “Key.”
“Put me down.”
Once I was on my feet, I reached into the interior pocket of my coat and pulled out a single key.
“You just carry it around all willy-nilly like that?” Hiro asked, staring at the key like it was some sort of holy object and not a hunk of metal.
“How else am I supposed to carry it?”
“On a keychain so you don’t lose it,” he answered as if it were obvious. “That thing doesn’t even have a ring on it. Just floating around in your pocket on a hope and a prayer.”
“I don’t need a keychain to keep track of my house key,” I pointed out, jiggling it a little to get it into the lock.
“Is that even the right key?”
Hiro’s voice was so close I jolted, whole body colliding with his. I mean, really, shouldn’t he be cold in nothing but sweatpants? Why was he so warm and inviting all the time? Well, until he opened his mouth.
Exasperated, I replied, “Of course it’s the right key. I only have one.”
“Only one! You don’t have a backup?”
“Larry said a backup would cost me fifty dollars.”
“Who the hell is Larry?” he demanded.
“My landlord.” Who else would charge me for a key?
“The fact that this place even has a landlord is shocking.”
“He’s more hands-off than some.” Which was exactly what most people around here preferred.
“More like limbs free,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?”
Hiro spoke up. “I said I’ve seen haunted houses with better maintenance.”
“You can go now,” I said coolly, turning back to the key, finally getting it into the lock.
“You should have a better lock on that door than some hokey handle that can be jimmied in two seconds flat.”
“I have more locks on the inside.” Did he think I was completely helpless? Turning to face him, I said, “You should go.”
Besides, when I asked for a better lock, Larry told me it would be three hundred bucks. If I wasn’t able to pay for a spare key, obviously, some bougie lock wasn’t going to happen. So I went to the flea market and grabbed a few old, easy-to-install bolt-and-chain locks. FYI, if something says it’s “easy to install,” it’s probably a lie. I had bruises for a week.
