“Knock knock.” Chevy’s words come with actual knocking. That’s the other downside to my living situation. The nosy older brother. I groan and grab the closest thing to me, which is a romance novel. “Go away! I’m sleeping.” I punctuate this by tossing the book at the door. I hear the gasp of book lovers everywhere, but I picked this one up at the thrift store for ninety-seven cents and it’s already missing the back cover.
