Ethan's POV
I pulled up to Hannah's address, eyeing the modern apartment complex. It was not bad—red brick exterior, well-maintained landscaping, definitely not the worst place I'd seen in the city.
My fingers drummed against the steering wheel. Did I go up? What if she lived with roommates? Or worse - family? Nothing killed the mood faster than running into an overprotective dad or nosy roommate.
"Smooth move, genius," I muttered to myself. "Should've asked about her living situation during that riveting shower boyfriend conversation."
I grabbed my phone and typed out a message.
Me: Your chariot awaits, m'lady.
(God, that was terrible. What was I thinking?)
Hannah: Such a gentleman. Come up - 404.
Me: Error 404: Girl not found?
Hannah: That's my apartment number, genius.
Me: On
