Page 132 of Rising Heat

Coop spots us before I can answer.

“About time,” he calls. “You gonna show her the exciting parts or just stare at each other all night?”

“Mind your business,” I shoot back.

“I was. Then you brought yours to work.”

Darcy laughs beside me.

“Hi again.”

“Less green than last time,” Coop says.

“Less beer,” she agrees.

“Less festive,” Trick calls from the kitchen doorway.

Darcy laughs.

“Ignore them.”

“You say that like you aren’t one of them.”

“She’s catching on already.” Coop folds his arms. “You giving the deluxe tour?”

“Depends.”

I look down at her.

“On?”

“Whether she behaves.”

“No promises,” she says.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Well don’t let us hold you up,” Coop raises his hands.

“You kids behave,” Marco shouts.

We continue down the hall, weaving through the station—the kitchen where we share family meals, the watch office, the gym where half the crew spends their downtime pretending they’re still twenty-two. Every few steps somebody calls my name, asks a question, gives Darcy a smile or a hard time. She takes it all in without missing a beat, asking questions about everything, making herself at home in a place she’d never seen before.

By the time we reach the bunk room, she’s already stopped looking like a visitor.

She peers through the doorway as we approach our next stop.

“That’s your bunk?”

“Yep.”

Her eyes move over the narrow bed before landing back on me.

“Smaller than I pictured.”

I stop walking.

“You’ve pictured it?”