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She could very well be trouble with a capital ‘T’, yet I’m offering her a place to stay for the night? Haven’t I learned anything?

Still, she stops walking and turns toward me, keeping her gaze downcast, her knuckles white from her grip on the backpack. “I am uninterested.”

Her tone has me arching a brow.

“In a place to sleep?”

“In you,” she says. There’s no bite to her words, almost as though she’s not used to sticking up for herself, but the fact that she still says it speaks volumes. “But thank you for the pizza and water.”

“I’m not offering you my bed,” I tell her. “This place has two separate apartments at the top of the stairs. They each have their own living spaces, kitchens, bathrooms, and beds. And their own keys. I’m saying that you can sleep in the spare one tonight if you want. Given that you just fell asleep on top of a barstool and nearly cracked your head open on my floor.”

When she doesn’t say anything, I head back over toward the register to finish shutting everything down for the night.

It takes me all of two minutes, so I go ahead and wash her cup as well, then take the plate to the back and set it in the fridge just in case she changes her mind and wants more.

What are you even doing, Mav? It’s clear she doesn’t want help. Should have just called the police and been done with it.

But I get the feeling she’s flighty, and if I were to even make that suggestion, she’d run.

After shutting the kitchen down, I head back out into the main part of the bar, honestly surprised when I see her still standing there.

“You said there is a lock on it?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have money,” she says, her gaze meeting mine for the first time since she came into the bar. Her eyes are a steely blue, a shade that reminds me of the ocean right before a storm, and I catch myself staring a beat too long.

“I don’t want money. It’s meant as a live-in residence for an employee. Since I currently have none of those, it’s vacant. You can sleep there tonight if you want, then go wherever you’re headed tomorrow.”

“And you don’t want anything in return?”

“I want to get to sleep at a reasonable hour,” I reply, noting that the clock on the wall is already reading nearly two a.m.

“Uh, okay. If you’re sure. Thanks.”

“I’m sure. This way.” I head down the hall toward the back door to make sure it’s locked down, then pause just outside another door. Since I keep the entrance to the apartments locked during business hours, I unlock it quickly, then make my way up the stairs.

The two doors to the studio apartments are on opposite sides of the hall. They face each other but are offset just slightly to compensate for the mirrored floor plans.

“I need to grab the keys from my place first. Give me just a second.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t make eye contact with me and lingers near the stairs like she’s ready to bolt at the slightest noise.

After unlocking my apartment, I slip inside and flip on the light. The place is sparsely decorated, with only a handful of my grandfather’s things remaining. I bought a new king-sized bed when I moved in and replaced the broken old couch with a leather three-seater, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same as it was when he was alive.

Simple. And I like it that way.

I retrieve the keys to the apartment across the hall, then pause outside the bathroom.

Will she want to shower?

Does she have a change of clothes?

Ugh, this is getting more and more complicated by the second.

Since it’s better to be overprepared than under, I grab a clean towel, a new toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a bar of soap from the cabinet, a pair of my sweats, and a large t-shirt.

With everything in hand, I step back out into the hall.