Another knock came, louder this time, so I hurried down the remaining steps and wrenched the door open, only to find Johnny standing outside in the rain, looking like some sort of semidrowned angel. Instantly, my heart jackknifed in my chest and then began to thud so hard it was almost painful. Seriously, God? Why? “Hi,” I whispered, clutching the door with a death grip. The step into our house was a least a foot high, but I still found myself staring up at him. “Hi,” Johnny replied, blue eyes locked on mine. “You live at ninety-five.” I nodded, mortified. “I thought your house was number
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