MACEY
Samantha didn’t smile. Not even a little. She brushed right past me into the apartment like she owned the place, her steps purposeful, eyes sharp, scanning every corner of my living room. Then she checked the kitchen. The hallway. Even peeked into my bedroom like she was auditioning for some detective drama on Netflix.
“Uh, hi?” I said, raising a brow as I shut the door.
She turned back slowly, arms crossing, her glare sharp enough to slice through me. “Did you have someone here?”
“What? No!” The words flew out too fast, too defensive. Ugh. I instantly hated how guilty I sounded, like I’d just been caught red-handed doing something shady.
Her eyes narrowed, lips twitching with suspicion. “You were watching porn?”
I let out a laugh that came out more like a choke. “Of cour
