The doorbell goes off again, ringing sharply through the apartment and jolting me out of my morbid reverie. My eyes impulsively dart down the short corridor to the doorway, and then to the red digits displayed on my alarm clock next to my bed. It’s 7:30 PM on the dot.
It must be Drake. I’d forgotten just how punctual he is. For someone so laidback and easygoing, he’s so damn keen on always being on time. For everything. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was borderline anal about it.
Kind of like Frost…