We arrive at the gate outside our complex, and she breaks the connection between us. The absence of her touch stays with me long after it should.
She pokes the access box, and it beeps loudly, blinking red. She sighs and repeats the same process two more times.
“Here.” I enter my code and the latch unlocks, granting us entry.
She stumbles walking through the courtyard, bumping into a potted plant and seeming highly offended that it had the nerve to be in her way.
I stifle a laugh at how completely adorable she is when she’s drunk. Or maybe it’s not the alcohol and just her that brings a smile to my face. I shake the thought away and focus on the last few steps to get her settled in for the night.
We pause at her door, and she shoves her hands into her pockets.
“Uh…” She reaches behind her, pulling out her cell phone but nothing else. She giggles and leans against her door, a mixture of exhaustion and intoxication settling heavily over her.
"Where're your keys?" I ask her.
She bites at her lip and averts her gaze, like she’s trying to recall a memory.
I force myself to look away from her mouth.
She shrugs. “Where’s yours?” Without warning, she shoves her hand into the pocket of my jeans and tugs the chain out. She holds them out between us and rattles them. “Finders keepers.”
It’s everything I can do to not let my jaw drop to the floor. She’s a fireball when she’s been drinking.
She strolls over to my door and slides the correct key into the lock, turning the handle and going inside.
I follow after her. “Hey, wait, what are you doing?”
She doesn’t bother turning on the light; she just goes straight past the kitchen, and down the hallway, like she’s already memorized where to go. She’s about to step into my room when she strips her shirt over her head and tosses it onto the floor.
“Whoa!” I turn my head and throw my arm up to cover my face.
What the hell is she doing?
I carefully make my way down the hall and peek into the room. “Dude.”
My heart thuds loudly and I shield my eyes again while she unbuttons her skin-tight jeans and steps out of them.
“Johnnyyy…”
I don’t even know her name, and she’s undressed and sprawled out on my bed. Thank God I decided to wash my sheets after I bled all over them.
I backtrack to the laundry room and pull the blanket out of the dryer. I clutch it in my hand and keep my eyes sealed shut on my way to where she is. I toss it onto where I think the bed is and squint to confirm she’s covered.
She sighs and nuzzles into the pillow. “This is nice,” she murmurs.
I approach cautiously, leaning down to bring the comforter over her exposed shoulder.
Her eyes open slowly, and for a second, I worry how she’ll react to seeing me here in front of her.
She reaches toward me. “Are you real?” Her hand grips onto mine.
I kneel there, next to the bed, wondering the same about her. “Yeah.” I study the way our skin touches, not wanting to forget a single detail. “Can I ask you something?”
Part of me is hesitant to have the answer, that if I finally know, maybe she’ll vanish before my eyes, never to be seen or heard from again. Disappearing quicker than she appeared. Leaving a bigger void than the one she created when she suddenly showed up in my life.
If I solve the mystery, will I lose her?
“Anything,” she whispers.