Page 69 of Rising Heat

Bex

I’m not saying anything

I’ve just started typing a reply when the lights flicker.

Once…twice…then nothing.

The apartment drops into darkness so thick it almost rings.

“Noooo,” I tell the walls.

The heat clicks off next, pipes groaning low and unhappy while the sudden silence settles over everything. I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the dark kitchen.

I am not panicking.

I’ve just started mentally inventorying how many blankets I own when three firm knocks land against my door.

Using my phone as a flashlight, I cross the apartment and pull the door open to find Mason standing there with a solar lantern hanging from one hand, its warm glow catching first on the charcoal henley stretched across his chest, then the dark ink disappearing beneath the sleeve, then the snow melting into his hair and catching along the short beard framing his jaw. Cold air spills in around him, carrying the sharp scent of winter.

He looks like the storm personally delivered him to my doorstep—broad and unfairly good-looking in a way I am not thinking about at eight-thirty in the morning.

For one ridiculous second, all I feel is relief. Of course he would already have a plan for a power outage before I’d finished standing in the dark trying to convince myself I wasn’t concerned.

His green eyed gaze slides over me once, taking in the oversized sleep shirt, bare legs, and fuzzy socks before returning to my face. The inspection lasts all of two seconds, but I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens briefly.

“Interesting,” I say. “So you do knock.”

One dark brow lifts.

“Wouldn’t want to catch you in the shower.”

Warmth immediately burns my cheeks.

Did he just…?

My body has clearly stopped caring what I think.

“Grab what you need.”

His voice is rougher than usual. Morning voice, or cold air, or something I’m not examining before breakfast.

“What?”

“You’re coming downstairs.”

I cross my arms.

“Is that a request?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“No.”

“Are you always this bossy before coffee?”

“Are you always this stubborn when someone’s trying to help?”

“I appreciate the help. I just don’t remember asking to be rescued.”