Page 20 of Rising Heat

I grin into the bottle.

“Can’t wait.”

Mack huffs a laugh through his nose and turns back to the game. Neither of us says anything for a minute. Then, without looking away from the screen:

“You’re better than they give you credit for.”

I stare at him as he keeps his eyes on the game. I feel my mouth pull into a smile before I can stop it.

“I know.”

He nods once and the conversation is over.

That’s another thing we’re good at.

CHAPTER FOUR

darcy

It takes me three tries to wedge my SUV between a Subaru with a bike rack and a Volvo that looks expensive enough to have opinions about my bumper. By the time I cut the engine, my shoulders are somewhere near my ears and I’m muttering things under my breath that would’ve scandalized my mother.

Mostly straight.

That counts.

Cold drizzle freckles the windshield, the kind that somehow feels meaner in late February. Boston’s version of a welcome mat. One decent afternoon tricks everybody into believing spring might actually be happening and then another week of damp cold moves back in like it pays rent.

The car is packed to the ceiling with boxes labeled in black Sharpie, a few garment bags hooked from the backseat handle, and the ficus Bex insisted was “emotionally supportive” buckled into the passenger seat like a tiny green hostage. I’ve had it for two years and it has never once asked anything of me except water, which is exactly the kind of relationship I could use more of right now.

My fingers stay curled around the steering wheel.

The apartment is upstairs. Everything I own is in this car. If I wanted to, I could still put it in reverse and drive back to Pennsylvania.

The thought hangs there for a second. Then it’s gone.

My shoulders loosen against the seat.

This is it.

A city that doesn’t know me. A front door nobody else gets a key to. No wedding invitations or parents dropping by with opinions disguised as concern. No carefully edited version of myself trying to keep everybody comfortable.

I look up at the building.

The drizzle has blurred the edges a little, but it still looks exactly the way it did the day I signed the lease—solid, welcoming, entirely unconcerned with anyone else’s expectations.

The sound of my phone buzzing in the cupholder makes me jump in my seat.

Bex

You there???

Bex

Did you parallel park or are you currently six blocks away crying in a CVS parking lot?

Darcy

Rude. I’m parked.