Page 202 of Rising Heat

The restaurant sits on the rooftop, and by the time the elevator doors slide open, I’m a hell of a lot more interested in whether Darcy likes the place than I am in whatever existential crisis I was having three minutes ago.

She steps out first, wandering a few paces onto the terrace before stopping at the railing. Heat lamps cast warm pools of light between the tables while the skyline stretches out beyond them, the breeze lifting loose strands of hair across her bare shoulders as she slowly turns, taking everything in.

“This is…”

Somehow, that’s enough to loosen the knot that’s been sitting in my chest since Tuesday.

Tyler catches my eye for half a second.

He heard it too.

Darcy turns back toward us with a smile.

“You picked this?”

“We picked it.”

One eyebrow lifts.

“I found the place,” Tyler says. “Mack eliminated the other nineteen.”

“I spent ten minutes on Google.”

She laughs under her breath as the hostess leads us toward our table.

Worth it.

The table’s tucked near the corner far enough from everybody else that conversation doesn’t bleed together. Darcy slides into the booth across from us and pulls the cocktail menu closer.

The drinks come fast, Darcy taking one sip of the floral thing she’ll later trade for a beer and points at her glass.

“This tastes like you’re carrying me home.”

Tyler leans over.

“Let me try.”

She narrows her eyes but slides it toward him anyway.

“…Yeah. That’ll ruin your life.”

“I knew it.”

I watch her fingers curl back around the stem when he slides the drink toward her again. Thin gold rings. Pale pink nails. The bracelet she wore in the pictures she sent us from the waterfront a few weeks ago.

I remember that too.

Appetizers show up just as Tyler starts telling Darcy about our first month at the academy.

“I almost got Mack kicked out.”

Darcy looks up immediately.

“How?”

“They weren’t gonna kick me out.”

“You almost punched an instructor.”