“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“As opposed to getting into a relationship that's doomed from the start.”
“Wh-how? Why do you say that?”
“Because you always pick guys who you aren’t that into.”
“I do not! I was into Holland!”
“Were you, though?” Rose stretches her hands over her head. “Your chemistry was nil. With Mack, on the other hand…” She holds out her closed fist and opens it, miming an explosion.
I furrow my brow. “The heat is totally going to your head.”
There’s a knock on the door, and I jump, my heart flying to my throat.
Rose laughs. I scowl at her.
“Come in,” I call.
Mack steps into the living room, looks around, takes in the sight of Rose and me, and frowns. “You rang?”
I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Are you quotingThe Parent Trap?”
“Maybe.” His gaze locks onto mine for a fraction of a second, and my pulse surges. He looks around again. “Why is it so hot in here?”
“You tell us, dear landlord of ours,” Rose sings.
“The air conditioning unit stopped working,” I add, in case it wasn’t clear.
Mack drags a hand through his hair and mumbles a curse. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I say at the same time as Rose says, “You should be.”
I shoot her abehavelook, but she ignores me.
“We’ve only been saying something’s wrong with it since the day we moved in.”
I shrug apologetically at Mack.
He shifts his jaw. “You can sleep on my side of the duplex.”
“You have air? Thank God.” Rose peels herself off the couch, her sticking skin making a farting noise as she stands.
I cover my mouth to hold in my laugh, because apparently the heat is making me slap-happy.
“Real mature, Pops.” She scowls as she saunters past me.
“Rose, wait.” I turn to Mack. “We wouldn’t want to invade your space.”
“Shut up, Poppy.” Rose looks at me like I’ve got a screw loose. “We’re not staying here. We’ll die of heat stroke.”
“Quit being a drama queen.” I roll my eyes.
“I’m not being dramatic. It’s like Dante’sInfernoin here.”
“Again with the obscure literary references.”
“That is not obscure! Everyone knows Dante.”