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She crossed her arms. “How unfortunate.”

His smile grew. “You’re Claire, right?”

Her expression immediately changed. “How do you know my name?”

He pointed toward the bag. “The receipt.”

She looked down. Right. The receipt. She hated that she had immediately assumed something suspicious.

Although, to be fair, she had just moved into a building where she had met approximately three people, and one of them was currently holding her dinner.

“You could have just brought it over,” she said.

“And what exactly do you think it is I’m doing now?” He had a teasing look in his eyes.

“You had to open the bag first?” she shot back.

His expression shifted. “Okay.” Claire waited. “I checked the label.”

“You opened it.”

“I looked inside.”

“You opened it.”

“I verified ownership.”

Claire stared at him. “That is the most suspicious way possible to describe stealing someone’s food.”

“I didn’t steal it.”

“You had my general chicken.”

“I had your general chicken temporarily.”

“That’s worse.”

He laughed. Actually laughed. Like she had said something funny. Which was irritating because Claire was trying very hard to maintain her annoyance.

“I’m Noah. Noah Carter,” he said.

She hesitated. “Claire Bennett.”

“I know, remember?”

She sighed. “Right, the receipt.”

Noah shifted and leaned against the doorframe. “I saw your movers yesterday. They kept hitting the doorframe.”

She looked toward her apartment. “They did not.”

“They absolutely did.”

“They were professionals.”

Professionals who didn’t understand the meaning of fragile.

“They apologized to the door twice.”