“Don’t be such a purist.”

“I don’t like chocolate.”

“Tell me you’re a sociopath without telling me you’re a sociopath.” I roll my eyes.

“She’s onto me.” Dominic’s flawless face breaks into a grin. “Time to lure her in before she calls the cops.”

“See, you may want to think this and not actually say it out loud next time. Haven’t you read Serial Killing for Dummies?”

“It’s in my curriculum for next year. I’m just a freshman killer. Come on in.”

After this exchange, I find that my anxiety and worry somewhat disappear. DominicG has a midwestern, all-around-good-guy vibe about him. I follow him inside, still clutching my phone in a death grip.

“This way. He is still on the balcony.” Dominic motions to me with his hand. His apartment is small but neat. It smells like new paint and untouched books and the cleaning products they use in hotels. I recognize some of the furniture as IKEA. The Lack side table and Klippan love seat. Every twentysomething’s staples.

It’s easy for me to admire Dominic, for the same reason I like his apartment. They’re both gorgeous, clinical, and not my type. Not that I really have a type in men. I haven’t dated anyone since Joe. But something about Dominic’s perfectness puts me off. I’m sure he feels the same way about my averageness. Guys like him end up marrying women with endless legs and pronounced cheekbones and toenails that are always painted the right color for the season.

He pushes the balcony door open, still holding the doughnuts, and I come face-to-face with my traitorous cat. Loki offers me one slow, leisured blink. He is largely unmoved by my presence.

Took you long enough, his expression drawls villainously. Were you too busy finishing the last season of Bridgerton without me?

“Know what, pal? I’m not a huge fan of you right now either.”

I detest him for this attitude. And, in fact, yes, I should have stayed home and finished watching a series instead of coming here to fetch him. I lower the pet carrier I brought with me to the floor and jerk my chin toward it.

“Party’s over, pal. Get inside.”

Loki continues staring at me, not moving one inch. I step toward him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dominic cautions from behind me. “If he found a way into my apartment through the balcony, he may try to find his way out and injure himself.”

He has a point. Dominic lives on the ninth floor.

“Do you always think of everything?” I turn to him.

“Only ninety percent of the time.” He turns around and starts walking in the opposite direction. “Wait here.”

Dominic disappears inside his kitchen and reappears holding a can of tuna. He makes a show of cracking it open. I watch as Loki’s eyes sharpen comically. Dominic tucks the tuna can into the pet carrier by his couch. “Make yourself comfortable, EverlynneL. I’ll get you some coffee and we can annihilate that box of doughnuts. Once Loki breaks and gets inside, you can close it.”