Trisha hurried over and opened the door, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of Dashiell on the porch.
Today, he looked particularly put-together. He wore his usual style—a crisp grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing a sleek black T-shirt underneath. The black shirt hugged his torso just right, accentuating his toned physique. His jeans were neatly pressed, fitting him comfortably without being too tight. His hair was slightly tousled but still looked effortlessly stylish, and his clean-shaven face added to his polished appearance.
He looked ready for anything, and his presence made her pulse quicken with both excitement and nervousness.
"Hi," she said, trying to contain her excitement.
"Hey," he replied. "I hope you don't mind, but I was in the area and thought I'd drop by."
"Not at all. Come in."
Dashiell stepped inside, looking around.
"It's a great place," he remarked.
