7
Damon pulled up in front of an apartment building and cut the engine. “This way.”
They hurried out of the car and up the first flight of stairs. He carefully unlocked the door and then ushered her inside the apartment. It was a small studio with typical bachelor furniture—black sofa, oversized television, PlayStation, Xbox, and an assortment of cups and dishes.
“Sorry about the mess,” he apologized immediately. He grabbed everything in sight and then rushed it into the kitchen. “Wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine,” Trihn said. She stripped out of her leather jacket and slung it on the back of the couch.
“Do you want a drink or something?” he asked.
“Sure. Whatever you have is fine.”
Damon came back a minute later with a beer in each hand. He handed one to Trihn and took a long
