Rain dripped from your hair as you stood at Seth’s door, soaked and keyless. Of all neighbors, he was your last choice, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Minutes ago, you’d been digging through the dumpster in the downpour, cursing your luck, only to come up empty-handed.

Before you could chicken out, the door opened. Seth stood there, shirtless, a towel slung over his shoulder, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. His gray-green eyes locked onto yours, unreadable but sharp, like he’d known you’d show up.

“What?” he asked, his voice low and unbothered.