Page 11 of Rising Heat

“Very much so.”

That gets me that grin again.

“Good answer.”

“You say that to all your prospective tenants?”

“Only the ones who notice the flower boxes.”

“How did you⁠—”

“You looked at them for a full ten seconds before buzzing.”

My mouth opens. Then I process what that means

he was watching me before I even came inside. He noticed me noticing his flowers and thought that was worth mentioning to my face.

Tyler seems to realize what he’s just admitted, and either doesn’t care or has decided that transparency is a personality. His smile turns slightly smug.

“That’s only mildly unnerving,” I say.

“Get used to it.” He’s easy about it. “Old house. Nothing stays private long.”

Warmth creeps into my cheeks, and I clear my throat to stop the flush from rising.

“So…do your parents know you’re letting strangers into their building?”

Tyler laughs, full and easy, bouncing off the old walls and landing low in my ribs.

“Our parents would be deeply offended by that.”

He gestures between himself and the building.

“My brother and I own it.”

My brows lift.

“No offense, but you look approximately fifteen.”

He presses a hand to his chest.

“Ouch. That is both devastating and a compliment, considering I’m thirty.”

He’s ridiculous, and I already like him, and that feels like the kind of irresponsible development on my part.

“You know what I mean.”

Tyler steps back and gestures toward the stairs.

“Come on. Let me show you your future apartment.” He starts up without waiting. “She’s got good bones. Doesn’t let people down easy.”

My apartment.

Surely I hallucinated that part.

I follow him up the stairs before I can think about that too hard.

The staircase is even prettier up close—freshly stained dark wood treads, black iron railing cool beneath my palm. The house carries sound in the way old buildings do. Tyler’s boots on the stairs, my footsteps answering, some low hum from below that might be plumbing or the front door or just the house doing its thing. I’ve lived in apartments that felt like filing cabinets. This one feels alive.