By the time I finally force myself out of my car and into my apartment complex, I’m utterly exhausted. My body feels too heavy to carry, and I’m thinking I should’ve left my gym bag in the car instead of trying to lug it up to my apartment.
I’m even considering to just drop the bag on the steps leading up to the apartment complex and hope it’s still here in the morning. I decide against it after punching in the code to the lobby door and pushing my shoulder against the glass.
I sigh when the air conditioning hits my slick skin, shoulders sagging as my sneakers slap against the marble flooring. I give a half-assed wave to Peter, the front desk guy.
He waves back. “Long night?”
“You can say that.”
I give him a fist bump as I walk by but he quickly calls out to me. “Hate to be the one to break the news but the elevators are down.”
My steps come to a halt and I turn slowly to face Peter. His blond hair is neatly slicked back but his white button-down is slightly wrinkled and his badge is crooked.
He’s not much older than me but he likes to pretend he’s wise beyond his years. Sometimes I entertain him. Other times I call him out on the bullshit that likes to come out of his mouth because I’m pretty sure half the life lessons he tries to teach came from his drug dealer or something.
Or is he the drug dealer?
I forgot.
Peter chuckles, not bothered by my sharpened gaze pointed in his direction. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
How the hell are both elevators in this godforsaken building out of order? I pay good money to be here. Okay, technically Brian does but I’m still going to complain about this to the owner tomorrow. Right now, however, I just want to take a hot bath and climb into bed.
I sigh. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“You only like me because I put up with your shit,” he counters.
“Exactly,” I agree. “Why else would I keep your little secret?”
I pretend as if I’m smoking a cigarette, earning me a middle finger. We both laugh, knowing the landlord’s strict no-smoking policy—the one that Peter seems to think is optional. I guess that’s the least concerning thing he could do on the property.
“Night, Pete.” I throw my head back, groaning just at the thought of my journey up seven flights of stairs.
He chuckles, going back to whatever he was watching on his phone. “Night, Denise.”
I begrudgingly pass the elevators and move toward the door that leads to the staircase. The air is colder here, lighting darker and the shuffle of my feet echoes up the concrete stairs and walls. My grip against the railing tightens before I even take a step up.
Maybe I should just set up camp and sleep in the stairwell.
My foot hovers in the air, wincing at the weight on my hip but I repeat the motion, slower than it usually takes me but I do successfully make it up two flights of stairs before having to come to a complete stop and grit my teeth for a second.
The heavy door below me opens and shuts. Footsteps moving at a much faster pace than mine echo. I straighten my back and quickly pull out my phone, planning to purposely stand in the middle of the stairwell because something on my phone was far too important to wait.
“Denise?” I turn around and look up from my phone to see Lucas standing at the bottom of the set of stairs, his head tilted and brows furrowed. “You okay?”
He walks up the steps, eyes scanning over my body, probably looking for a reason as to why I’m standing like an idiot in a stairwell.
So far, I’ve done a pretty good job at not running into Lucas despite us living in the same building, but that luck was meant to run out at some point, I guess. I just would’ve preferred if it was during a moment where I wasn’t fighting for my life to make it up five more flights of stairs.
“Yup,” I exaggerate the word, head nodding frantically. “All good. My bag is just kind of heavy, so you know I’m just pacing myself.”
“Oh.” He steps closer. “Need some help?”
Before I can decline, Lucas is already reaching for my bag. Our hands brush, the calluses on his fingers sending tingles across my palm.
“Why ask if you’re just going to do it anyway?” I roll my eyes as he hooks my bag strap onto his shoulder.
He grins. “Because I forgot who I was talking to for a second. If I give you a chance to say yes or no, you’ll most likely choose no.”