32. Tyler
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
tyler
When we get home the next morning, Boston’s fully awake again.
Traffic backs up halfway down the block below the apartment and sunlight pours through the kitchen windows far brighter than either of us has any patience for.
We drop our keys onto the counter almost at the same time and stand there for a second, neither of us saying much before heading in opposite directions.
I make my way to my bedroom and crash for a few hours.
When I finally wake up, late afternoon’s already slipping toward evening. Mack’s standing in the kitchen with a glass of water, staring absently out the window when I wander in rubbing sleep out of my eyes.
I grab a glass from the drying rack, fill it at the sink, and lean against the counter across from him.
“Sleep?”
“Couple hours.”
“Same.”
Another minute passes before I look over at Mack.
He catches my eye for all of a second. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. I already know what we’re both thinking.
We need our girl.
I unlock my phone.
Tyler
You around?
The typing bubble pops up almost immediately.
Darcy
Depends…
Darcy
Is this a hostage situation?
I laugh under my breath and turn the screen toward Mack.
He reads the screen, and for the first time since yesterday, the tension in his face finally eases.
“Tell her to come.”
Tyler
Come over?
Darcy
Oh, you guys are down BAD, huh?
Another message follows before either of us has time to answer.
Darcy
Be there soon.
Mack exhales and drags a hand over the back of his neck.
“Good,” he mutters.
The knock comes about ten minutes later, and I grab the doorknob before the second one even lands. Darcy stands there in green cargo pants and a white T-shirt, her hair piled into one of those messy-looking buns with a few loose strands brushing her cheeks.
“Hey…”
She trails off as she takes us in. My whole body unclenches at the sound.
I lean one shoulder against the frame and look at her for a second longer than I probably mean to. Behind me, Mack shifts somewhere near the kitchen, and Darcy’s eyes flick past me toward the sound before coming back to me again.
“You guys look…” She tilts her head slightly. “…like you either had a long day or committed a minor crime.”
I huff a laugh.
“Little of both.”
“We didn’t get caught,” Mack says from behind me.
That gets a small smile out of her.
“Good. I don’t bail people out on the first offense.”
She steps inside, stopping close enough that the front of her shoulder bumps mine. Her hand slides down my arm as she slips past me, a quick squeeze to my forearm before she lets go, then she’s already beside Mack, her hand landing against the middle of his back as she looks up at him.
“Hey, beautiful.”
She swallows once before turning toward the fridge, reaching up to tuck the loose strand back into her bun.
“When’s the last time either of you ate actual food?”
“We ate last night,” I say automatically.
“That was nearly twenty-four hours ago.”
“—You have condiments and beer. Not like you guys at all.”
Mack pushes off the counter and wanders over while she stares into the shelves like she’s convinced an actual meal might materialize if she looks hard enough.
“That bad?” he asks.
She glances over her shoulder.
“There’s half a lime in here, Mack.”
“We were busy.”
“You’re firefighters,” she says. “Not frat boys.”
Mack shakes his head, smiling despite himself.
She nudges the fridge shut with her hip and pulls her phone out.
“Okay. I’m ordering food.”
“Pizza,” I call from the couch.
Mack digs his wallet out of his back pocket and tosses it onto the island.
“Order whatever you want.”
Darcy looks from the wallet to him.
“This feels financially irresponsible.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
I sink farther into the couch while Darcy orders food, bouncing from one story to the next without waiting for either of us to answer. Mack leans against the counter listening, and for the first time since yesterday, he’s looking at her instead of through the apartment.
Every few seconds, she looks over at one of us mid-story before she keeps talking.
The pizza shows up twenty minutes later and we eat straight out of the box because nobody feels like finding plates.
Darcy plants herself cross-legged between Mack and me while some Tom Cruise movie takes over the TV.
She steals my garlic sauce. A minute later Mack hands her his soda without either of them looking away from the screen.
At some point, Darcy ends up curled into my side with one leg thrown across mine and her head tucked against my chest. My arm finds its way around her waist, neither of us acknowledging when exactly that happened. She just relaxes further into me with a small exhale.
A while later, Mack stretches out and drops his head into her lap. Darcy shifts without thinking, making room before her fingers disappear into his hair and stay there, moving absentmindedly while Mack’s eyes drift closed.
Every few minutes Mack opens his eyes long enough to look at one of us before letting them fall shut again. Darcy’s fingers stay tangled in his hair, combing through it while the movie keeps talking to itself in the background.
I spend more time watching them than I do the TV. Mack sinks a little farther into her lap as the night wears on. Darcy leans a little more of her weight against my side until she’s practically folded into me, and my hand closes a little tighter around her waist in response.
Outside, traffic gives way to the occasional car passing below. Inside, nobody moves much.
At some point, my eyes close too.