“Shut up.” I curled myself into his side and closed my eyes again.
“Don’t get comfortable,” he whispered. “We’re here.”
We got out of the car and I looked up at the house in front of me. The cream brick building was four stories high, with a black railing on the first floor surrounding a small balcony. The black wooden front door was sheltered beneath the same balcony, and two perfectly trimmed triangular bushes were above it.
“This is his house?”
“His parents’.” George led me forward.
He pulled a silver key from his pocket and unlocked the front door. Then he gestured for me to go first, and I stepped into the gorgeous townhouse. It was the embodiment of opulence and elegance, despite essentially being a
