Gage
“Why did you have to bring so much crap?” I grunted, my arms aching as I lugged Jenna’s mountain of belongings up yet another damn staircase. My shirt was sticking to my back, sweat dampening the collar, but still she floated along beside me like she was on a goddamn catwalk.
I mean, one or two suitcases, fine. A duffel, sure. But three massive suitcases, a duffel bag, a sports bag, and some oversized crossover stuffed full? That was overkill. And of course, I was carrying all of it.
“It’s not crap,” Jenna shot back, her tone clipped as her thumbs flew across her phone screen like she was competing in some Olympic texting event. How many people could she possibly need to update at once? She didn’t even glance at me, eyes glued to her messages, like I was just her pack mule. “I need
