It wasn’t long before they arrived at Cassandra’s apartment. Ryan stood behind her with his flight bag slung over one shoulder while she tried to put the key in the lock. He probably wasn’t helping, what with one hand splayed over her stomach, his thumb brushing the edge of her dress where it plunged down below her cleavage.She persisted past the trembling in her hands and threw open the door.“This is it,” she said with a wave of her arm. “It’s pretty small, but it works for me. At least I’m out of my parents’ house.”He dropped his bag at the end of the couch before taking a look around. So this was Cassandra’s place.To the left was a small kitchen with ceramic floors and a bistro-style table in the corner. Farther on was the living area, with an open door providing a glimpse of a bedroom.Nothing had a specific theme, nor did any of it match. The couch was upholstered in blue and set at an angle from an oversized chair done in cream with orange pillows. Framed prints shared wall space with paintings on canvas and what he figured was an African mask.
