Page 164 of Rising Heat

Which, unfortunately, is still one of the rudest things anyone has ever said to me because she wasn’t wrong.

Giving up on the kitchen before I find another completely unnecessary thing to straighten, I change outfits for the second time instead, eventually landing on light-wash jeans, a cream ribbed top, and white sneakers worn in enough that they look intentional instead of suburban-adjacent.

Close enough.

Bex’s flight should be arriving in the next fifteen minutes.

Keys in hand, I head for the airport.

I spot Bex before she spots me, which almost never happens.

She’s already acquired an iced coffee somewhere between baggage claim and the curb and is standing outside Terminal B scanning the pickup lane like she’s conducting a security assessment instead of waiting for her best friend. The weekender hangs off one shoulder, sunglasses are on despite the clouds, and the heel on her boots has absolutely no business in an airport.

The sunglasses slide down her nose as she spots me.

“Oh my God!”

She closes the distance in about four strides and pulls me into a hug hard enough to rock me back on my heels, my arms wrapping around her automatically.

She leans back, hands still on my shoulders, and studies my face, her eyes widening.

“You’re glowing.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“You look like a before-and-after ad for good therapy and orgasms.”

An older couple walking past slows just enough to stare.

“Bex!”

“What?” she says, genuinely confused. “I’m speaking at a perfectly reasonable volume.” She glances toward them. “It’s not my fault people in this city are nosy.”

I grab her arm, laughing despite myself.

“Shhh—”

She snags her weekender off the ground and falls into step beside me like the conversation never paused.

“You’ve been laid.”

“Bex.”

“Recently.”

“Oh my God.”

“Multiple times,” she says matter-of-factly. “By people who clearly knew what they were doing.”

I feel my face start to flush.

“We are absolutely not doing this in the pickup lane.”

“Then take me to the apartment,” she says without missing a beat, “because I need to see where all your bad decisions live.”

Bex drops her weekender just inside the door and slowly turns in a circle.

“Ohhh.”