Before Phoebe entered her apartment, she turned to look at Gideon, who wasn't far behind her. She said politely, "Goodnight."He had already opened his door but had yet to step inside. He stood in the doorway and looked at her, his expression blank.Phoebe hesitated. She'd already returned his car keys. Did he have something to say? Or was he waiting for her to thank him?After a moment, she hastily took off the coat she had on and folded it neatly.Gideon watched her. He said, "Throw it to me."She didn't. Instead, she walked over and handed it to him. "Thanks."He took it, turned around, and shut the door behind him.Phoebe was left standing there, lost for words. Cold, indifferent, and detached—Gideon was the perfect embodiment of those words.Still, whatever his reasons for acting the way he had that night, she was sincerely grateful to him, even if he didn't care about her.Back in his apartment, Gideon noticed that his coat now carried Phoebe's scent. He was a germaphobe
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