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Just what I needed, but I got interrupted by the doorbell ringing loudly.

I frowned and paused the movie to get up and walk over to the foyer, peeking toward the front door to see if I could recognize the silhouette of the person standing in front of our large door.

When I noticed who it was, a wide grin spread across my face, and I hurried to open up the door for my late-night guest.

“You’re here,” I pointed out, although it was intended as a question.

Riggs looks down at me with his dark, mysterious eyes, his fists pushed deep into his front pockets and his stance wide, almost as if he was ready to fight me.

He didn’t say a word at first, but when I raised a brow at him, he finally spoke. “Wanna let me in?” he asked with a clenched jaw.

How could I ever say no to that?

He must’ve remembered my parents leaving, and the plan of me not going after him but letting him come after me worked out perfectly as well.

I stepped aside and let him pass me, and once I closed the door, he turned around to look at me again.

“Nice outfit,” he muttered, sounding amused.

“Didn’t think I would have a visitor tonight. If I had known, I would’ve worn something more revealing,” I teased.

He didn’t reply after that. Instead, he turned around and walked toward the living room to sit down on the couch without ever asking for permission.

Not that I wanted him to ask for it. At this point, he could’ve literally been doing whatever he wanted and I wouldn’t complain.

Nope, wouldn’t complain at all.

“Want something to drink? I know Dad has some red wine and champagne somewhere,” I offered.

“Gin,” he simply said.

Alrighty then.

I turned to head into the kitchen, then opened the pantry where Dad stored all of his alcoholic drinks next to Della’s wide range of food.

I searched for the gin which took me a little while, but once I found it, I grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard and headed back to the living room.

“Anything else you’d like?” I asked, setting everything down on the coffee table and then pouring us both a glass.

“You’re eighteen,” he pointed out.

“So?”

“How often do you drink?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I’ve had champagne before,” I told him, grabbing one glass and looking down at him. “What? Will you tell Dad that I had alcohol?” I challenged.

“No.” His response was short and direct, and he reached for his own glass to take a sip of the gin.

I did the same, having to keep my face from grimacing because of its strong taste.

We were both quiet for a while before I sat down next to him, pulling my legs underneath me and holding the glass in both my hands.

“Is there a reason why you came here unannounced?” I asked.

He raised a brow at me again, letting out a chuckle. “Doyouthink there’s a reason why I came here?”

I shrugged, knowing exactly why he came but wanting to hear it from him. “We haven’t seen each other in almost a week and you blocked my number. You seem to be indecisive about me, so…”

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