The word settled between them, warm and dangerous.
Perfect.
And for the first time all summer, Hillary felt that familiar sense of balance shift—just a little.
His phone dinged on the table, even as Hillary tried to not look at it, but she saw the name Maddie appear. He looked at it and texted something back.
“Well, I gotta run, but the 4th tomorrow, where should I meet you guys?”
“I’ll text you the location,” Hillary said.
Murphy stood and left. Hillary cut her gaze to her sister. “Why did you do that?”
“What?”
“Why did you invite him?”
Sydney shrugged. “He seemed nice. What's the big deal?”
Hillary took a deep breath. If she made a big deal out of this, her sister would ask questions . . . questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
“I gotta get back to the hospital. I will see you tomorrow.”
And just like that, Hillary was alone with her iced coffee, her mind still on the handsome rookie.
6
MURPHY
Murphy trusted a lot of things.
His reflexes.
His teammates.
The way muscle memory took over when the puck came screaming toward him at ninety miles an hour.
He didnottrust Hillary’s directions.
His GPS had given up five minutes ago, rerouting him into increasingly questionable side streets until he finally pulled over, phone glowing in his hand.
Hillary - You’ll think you’re lost
He reread her text. You’re right about that, Boss, he thought.
Hillary-You’re not.
Hillary - Park when the road turns to gravel. Walk toward the sound of the river.
“That’s ominous,” he muttered to himself.
Still, he parked.
The sun was already sinking, the sky washed in pinks and golds as he followed the narrow path downhill, swatting at tall grass and wondering vaguely if this was how people ended up featured on true crime podcasts.
Then the trees opened up.
And there she was.
