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And how it feels as if there is something vibrating between us that wasn’t there before. Not even a moment ago when we were on the roof.

It’s invisible…

Intangible…

And yet…

Slam.

The loud bang of a door closing acts like a pin to a bubble.

I pull my hands away with a jerk, ignoring whatever it is that just passed between us to crouch down so that I can see through the window into the hallway.

It’s empty, but there is a large orange Tupperware container sitting on my doormat.

“Looks like Harmony’s been doing some baking,” Mackenzie says, hoisting the window open. He holds out his arm, letting me step through first.

Sure enough, when I pick it up, it’s the same container from the other day with a scrawled note on top.

I heard you loved my extra special chocolate surprise so I whipped up another. I really think the practice has made perfect with this one — H

I tip the cake so Mackenzie can read the note, wondering what he wants to do next.

He reads my mind and nods at the still-open window. “I think the show is mostly over. Why don’t you wash up, and I’ll grab the rest of our stuff?”

I open the lid and take a peek, finding a cake identical to the earlier one. “Are you hungry?”

Mackenzie smiles. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t strongly encourage her to make one tonight.”

“I will cut you a slice, then.”

Mackenzie hoists a leg through the open window. When he’s back out on the landing, I’m struck with a sudden urge to finish our earlier conversation.

“Hey, Mackenzie…”

His head pops back through the window frame.

My eyes shift upward in the direction of the roof. “Thank you for that.” Then, the landing behind him. “And that. For all of it.”

He dips his chin, another smile spreading across his face. “I got you, Annalise.”

I walk back into the apartment and into the kitchen, where I turn on my sink, waiting for the water to warm, before I run it over my dirty hands and confirm that I won’t need to take a late-night trip to the ER.

I cut two slices from the cake and lay them on plates. As I place the cover back on, I glance up and catch my reflection in the microwave door, and I’m smiling.

I can’t remember the last time that happened.

Tonight did not turn out like I expected.

Mackenzie has not turned out as I expected, either.

He’s still a musician with a love of late nights, indie music, bars, and being unapologetically charming to anything with a pulse that stumbles into his orbit. But he’s also kind, funny, and easy to talk to—not to mention his excellent reflexes in life-threatening situations.

See what happens when you’re open? Larry’s voice is so clear in my head that I almost expect to see him standing in my living room.

But it’s Mackenzie who walks through my front door, kicking it closed behind him with a backward flick of his foot. He drops the blanket from the roof on the floor and carries our two empty hot chocolate mugs into the kitchen, where he places them in the sink, eyeing the pieces of cake.

“I will be on a sugar high for the rest of the night. I’ve got at least two more episodes in me—maybe three if we pretend responsibility doesn’t exist. You in?”