I rode up to the third floor, walking down the hallway and around the corner to my room. My shaking fingers fumbled with pulling the key card out of its casing, and then I held up the card to the sensor, but a large hand covered mine, pushing it down.

“Goddammit, Ellie,” Tyler said. “You’re right. I’m jealous as fuck. You’re sending all these mixed signals and some guy walks in on you, sees you naked, then he’s asking about you … I have a million fucking feelings swirling around. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ve never felt like this before.”

I held up the card again, and the lock buzzed. I pushed down on the handle, looking up at Tyler. “Grow up,” I said, shoving through the door and then slamming it behind me.

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I unpacked the four shirts, five rolled pairs of socks, three pairs of cargo pants, two oversized nightshirts, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a brush, mascara, and lip gloss from my backpack. The Alpines could have been called out at any time, and I wanted to be ready. It wasn’t lost on me that I was arguing with the only hotshot assigned to keep me safe, or that Tyler needed to be focused on the growing fire and not our ridiculous predicament.

Tyler and I weren’t an our. We weren’t a we, meaning no jealousy, no expectations, and no deep discussions about our relationship status or where it was headed. I was a recovering drunk, and he was a recovering whore. Any therapist I’d seen over the last five years would say the same thing I was thinking: we had no future.

I picked up the remote and turned on the television. The news channel was already reporting on the fire, the latest updates scrolling across the bottom of the screen. I only listened for a few minutes before turning it off.

My phone buzzed, lying in the same place on the bed where I’d tossed it earlier. Even from ten feet away, I could see it was my sister. It rang a few times before going dark, and then the display lit up again.

I walked the few steps and reached for my phone, unsure of whether I would throw it across the room or answer it until I held the speaker to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Ellison?”

“Hi, Finley.”

She sighed. “I thought you were dead. Mother and Dad thought you were dead.”

“I guess to them I sort of am.”

I could hear her wrath building, cringing when she yelled into my ear. “Not to me! I haven’t done shit to you, Ellie, and you’ve been ignoring and avoiding me for months! Do you think I’ve been hanging out on the beach just hoping you were okay?”

“No, but I hoped…”