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“Okay. Let’s try this again.”

It takes a few tries before we get him positioned correctly.

“Okay. On three.”

I count down, and we lift.

Nothing.

“He’s heavier than he looks.”

Violet stares at me. “He looks like he weighs three hundred pounds.”

“Fair.”

We try again. This time we manage to get him halfway out. His arm flops, and his head lands on my shoulder.

I smile. “He likes me.”

“He’s unconscious.”

“I know.” I gently stroke his cheek. “But look how cuddly he is.”

“Seriously, Callie?” My sister shakes her head. “Stop cuddling with the unconscious man and help me get him in the house.”

Such a buzzkill.

But it’s not enough to ruin my euphoria. Because Mr. Hitman inside my house? Chef’s kiss.

We’re both sweating profusely by the time we get him completely out of my vehicle.

“Okay. We can do this.”

Violet glares at me.

We start dragging him. I’m walking backward. Violet is walking forward, scowling at me.

“When you helped me… with Drew,” she huffs. “You never had to… carry his body.”

“You never… asked me to,” I huff back.

We get him up the stairs to the front porch. My quads are screaming in agony.

“Almost… inside.” I take another step and trip over the welcome mat. My back slams into the door. His massive body nearly crushes me.

“Oh my God. Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.” I weakly hold up one arm, still panting like I ran a 5k. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

She laughs. Or tries to. Because of the hitman’s massive size, it comes out more like someone wheezing during an asthma attack.

“You… deserved it.”

I glare at her, then look at him. He’s still unconscious.

“Okay.” I struggle until I’ve somehow wiggled from beneath his weight. “Let’s lean him against the house. I’ll unlock the door.”

It takes a lot of effort, but we finally get him positioned.