“I would invite you to my place to see some of my work, but you have to move your car.”

“Another time,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” I agree, then murmur, “Goodnight, Dayton.”

After getting his quiet "night" in return, I turn on my heels and head past the alcove where the mailboxes are and the small lounge area.

It takes me a minute to get to my apartment, which is down two long hallways, and when I reach my door, I can hear PJ on the other side, the tags on his collar jingling along with his nails scraping the wood, which I already know is going to cost me my deposit. I don’t understand how he always knows when it’s me, but he does; otherwise, he would be hiding in his kennel.

“Hey, baby.” I pick him up when I get the door open. “Are you ready to go for a walk?”

At the mention of doing one of his favorite things, he begins to wiggle so much that I’m forced to put him down before I drop him. The moment his paws hit the floor, he runs to the door on the opposite side of the apartment, that leads directly outside.

Tugging at his leash that is wrapped over the handle, he gets it free and runs back to me with it in his mouth.

“Give me a second.” I laugh, kicking off my heels.

After sending a text to my dad to let him know I made it home so he doesn’t worry, I grab my cropped hoodie and put it on, zipping it up halfway, then slip on my flipflops, attach PJ’s leash to his collar, put on my fanny pack, and head out the door.

Unlike the street that the front of the building sits on, my private entrance faces a street with a few new shops and a convenience store at the end that is filled with people any time it’s open. Which, it isn’t right now, so the street is empty.

When we are almost to the park near the end of the block, I spot a familiar figure coming our way on the sidewalk, and my heartbeat immediately picks up speed.

“What are you doing out here?” Dayton asks, closing the distance between us.

“I had to bring PJ out.” I glance down at the end of the leash and realize that my pup has hidden behind me, out of sight. Rolling my eyes, I turn around and pick him up. He’s always scared of new people. Actually, he’s scared of everything, and rather than bark like most dogs do, he hides in terror.

“You should use the dog area at the back of the building when it’s this late.”

“We like the park. Plus, I have mace and PJ with me.”