You’re distracting.

He’s trying to take in everything you’re saying, but his eyes trail over you in entirety, committing you to memory without permission.

You’re holding a small box, more at your door—moving in is such a hassle, but still, your smile is blinding.

“You must be the new tenant,” His mouth quirks up a bit as he sticks his hand out before his brain can catch up. And for him, that’s the first sign for trouble. Damn. “John Price, welcome to the building.”