Page 123 of Rising Heat

“But?”

“But he’d be lying.”

She laughs again, quieter this time.

“I like that.”

“What?”

“The two of you.”

I glance back down at the torque wrench.

“Yeah.”

She leans against the workbench now instead of the car, watching me tighten the last bolt.

“You’re doing pretty well.”

“At what?”

“Living on your own.”

She blinks.

“I lived with my ex for two out of the three years.”

“So you said.”

“I mean…” She shrugs. “I like it.”

“The apartment?”

“Having a place that’s mine.”

She says it simply, but her shoulders relax as she does.

“I like deciding where things go. Cooking when I feel like it. Leaving a book open on the coffee table because I know it’ll still be there when I get back.”

I tighten the wrench another quarter turn.

“I get that.”

“Do you?” She raises a brow.

“You sound surprised.”

“I don’t know, you just strike me as someone who likes things a certain way. Order. Routine…”

“Not exactly wrong. I like things I can rely on. Things that are consistent,” I glance up at her before looking back down at the engine. “But what you’re describing is still its own kind of routine.”

“I hadn’t looked at it that way.”

She looks down at her hands.

“I spent a long time living in somebody else’s version of home. I guess I’m just enjoying figuring out what mine looks like.”

Something about the way she says it pulls at my chest.