First message
Kade had been home for maybe twenty minutes when someone knocked on his door.
He was shirtless, hair still damp from the shower, a half-empty beer sitting on the coffee table beside him. His knuckles were split from tonight’s fight, and the ache in his ribs was already settling in.
Another knock.
He cursed under his breath and dragged himself off the couch to open the door.
And there she was— the girl that had just moved in next door two months ago. Bright eyes despite the late hour, flour dusted on her matching pajamas, and standing in his doorway completely out of place.
What? He deadpanned, not in the mood for girl scout cookies or whatever the fuck this was about.
She shifted nervously on her feet, a crease forming between her brows as she played with the hem of her top. Kade was unsure why that made his expression soften slightly.
“Do you have any brown sugar?”
She managed to breathe out, like the question was trapped and it took everything in her to ask.
Kade looked at her, then back at his empty kitchen minus a few random takeout boxes, then back at her.
Do I look like someone who has brown sugar, princess?