Page 1 of Midnight Wedding

Chapter 1

Lena

My hot neighbor’s apartment door is wide open.

Which is unusual. I barely see Hot Neighbor around the building, but when I do, he’s always hurrying around, slamming himself down the stairs like he’s late for something, and never bothers to respond when people saygood morning.

He strikes me as overly private and kind of an asshole.

Definitely not the open-door type.

It’s late at night, a little after two in the morning, and I’m just getting home from working a long, exhausting shift. My feet hurt, my back aches, my head’s a knot of pressure from the loud club music, and all I want is sleep.

A normal person would shout in and see if everything’s okay before moving on. Maybe they might even call the cops or something.

Unfortunately, that’s not me.

This wide-open door drives me absolutely insane.

It hits all my buttons with a freaking sledgehammer: a place I shouldn’t enter and an unanswered question mixed with a horribly attractive and aloof man.

This stupid door was practically left here to test me.

And I’m going to fail.

When I was little, my mom says I used toget in thingsall the time. Like I’d crawl into the pantry and start pulling down the flour or I’d dig my way into a full hamper just to see what was at the bottom. I mapped and explored every inch of our ratty apartment by the time I was two-and-a-half.

One afternoon, I got lost in the park because I had to see the inside of a bush and then couldn’t find my way back out. I was three years old. I got kicked out of a Target at six when I went rooting around in the back, just to see what it was like. I broke my wrist at thirteen falling off a fire escape trying to climb into an abandoned warehouse because I saw a bit of graffiti I thought looked cool through a window.

Mom always says I was the most curious little kid she’s ever met.

And she doesn’t mean that in a good way.

It’s only gotten worse over the years, and Baltimore has no end of nooks, crannies, and stupidly dangerous places to explore.

It’s a disease, really.

The disease of curiosity.

Which is why that door is a nightmare for a girl like me.

“Just go home, Lena,” I whisper to myself as I cautiously approach. “Don’t be stupid. Just take one little peek,thengo home.” I clear my throat on the threshold. “Hello?” I call out.

The entryway is cluttered with shoes and a table that looks like it was thrown onto its side. Glass glitters on the hardwood.

My heart quickens. Something bad happened here.

Thisis when a sane person would turn and walk right out. Except instead of fear, excitement and a deep obsessive yearning tokeep goingfills my body like a lightning storm.

“Hello?” I call again, and there’s still no answer.

I step forward into the apartment. My heels crunch on the glass and I teeter slightly. I’m definitely not dressed for exploration right now, but that’s never stopped me before. I tug my jacket tighter, trying to cover my obscenely short skirt and my see-through mesh top over a very unsubtle lacy bra.

Bottle girls at Club Shade work for tips, and drunk guys tip better when I look like I’m for sale.

“Hello? Anyone? If you’re a robber, please let me know. I’m just an innocent bystander, nothing to worry about. If you’re dying and bleeding out, just groan a little so I can find you.”

Nothing, still quiet. Just the sound of my heels crunching over the remains of a shattered mirror and my heart hammering in my ears.

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