Page 86 of It Starts With A No

Seth sighed. Maybe he should have just taken Clary to the hotel. He could have gotten a room next to hers.

“Did he go into your apartment?” Clary asked when Elton slammed yet another door.

“That’s Zane’s.”

Clary turned her face toward him. “I think you’re going to get in trouble.”

“I’ve already told Zane.” He weaved his fingers between hers, then cocked his head to the side and led her forward.

“Zane doesn’t lock his door?”

“His apartment doesn’t have a lock on the door. Only mine does. I don’t use it either. I installed it to keep Oliver from getting out when he’s sleepwalking. Then he stole the key, and I had to improvise.”

“He stole the key?”

“While he was sleepwalking.”

Clary chuckled. “He’s able to steal a key while asleep. How interesting.”

“I wouldn’t describe his sleepwalking as interesting. If he knocks on your door, just ignore him.” He glanced at her when she didn’t reply, and found her staring up at the ceiling lights.

“Why are they all different shapes and designs?”

Two of the lamps had a black metal rim, but one was square while the other was circular. The one in the middle was simply a long rectangular plastic casing.

“The one in the middle was still working, so I just left it there. I found the other two in one of the abandoned offices. I spray-painted the rims and fixed them up.”

She blinked. “Is that light flickering?”

“Yes. It’s been flickering for a while. But it still works, and none of my brothers complained, so …” Seth glanced over at Clary, whose wide eyes were studying every inch of the hallway.

He stopped walking.

Clary took a step ahead, then stopped and spun back to him.

“I’m sorry.” He’d never brought anyone—or even considered bringing anyone—home with him. He’d never thought about how the once-abandoned warehouse he fixed up would look to someone else.

He and his brothers were just glad to have a place to call their own. Even when it had been a dump.

But Clary?

“I’m sure you were expecting a fancier place,” he said.

Clary might not be an Eolenfeld, but it was obvious Edward Eolenfeld treated her well. She’d just come from staying in a huge mansion overlooking the Bay and a beautiful garden. “I’ll take you to the hotel if you want.”

“You’re throwing me out because I’m curious?”

“I’m not throwing you out.” He loosened the tie around his neck. “I fixed this place up myself, so I—”

Her brows puckered. “You turned this abandoned warehouse into an apartment building?”

He nodded.

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

She blinked twice. “As in on your own?”

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