I pick the hot guy.
It takes another minute to talk myself into it and gather all my courage—I'm not a particularly fearless person to begin with. In one uninterrupted movement, I hit the unlock button, swing open the truck door, jump out, close it behind me, and run for the front door of the house. There are three small steps leading up to the sagging front porch, and I jump over all three like I'm Superwoman clearing a tall building. Both feet land on the porch. One of the boards dips, but it doesn't stop me.
The door bangs shut, the crack echoing in the large, mostly empty living room. I stumble and quickly catch myself from the force of no longer running. Looking up, I'm met with the view of a large, black T-shirt-covered chest.
"Holy s**t, Jos. I told you to stay in the truck, not
