I pull out the blueprints. Unroll them enough to check. They're intact. Every damning detail preserved.
"You actually did it," Maris says. She's breathless. Laughing. "You insane, wonderful man, you actually did it."
"Told you I would." My lungs are still burning from the run, my pulse hammering so hard I can feel it deep in me.
"You could have been arrested." Her eyes search my face, looking for something—regret, maybe. Fear.
"But I wasn't." I tighten my grip on the blueprints, feeling the edges bite into my palm.
"You could have been hurt." There's something raw in her voice now. Something that makes my chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with exertion.
"But I wasn't." I want to reach for her. Want to prove I'm whole and here and unharmed.
She shakes her head, but she's still smiling. The expression is lopsided, disbelieving, threaded with relief. "You're impossible."
"You like impossible." I know it's true. Can see it in the way her shoulders have loosened, in the way she's looking at me like I've done something brave instead of reckless.
"I like you." The words come out quiet. Almost too quiet. But I hear them. They settle into my bones like they've always belonged there.
Simple. True. More powerful than any poetry I could invent.
"I like you too," I say. My voice is low, earnest. I don't know how to dress up the truth in prettier words, so I don't try.
She steps closer. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her despite the cold spring air. Close enough that I catch the familiar scent of flour and coffee that always clings to her skin, mingled now with sweat and adrenaline.
"We should go inside," she says softly. Her gaze dips to the rolled blueprints still clutched in my fist. "Look at these properly."
"We should." I agree because it's sensible. Because it's what needs to happen next.
The space between us crackles with something electric. Something that has nothing to do with theft or evidence or Janelle's fury still echoing somewhere in the distance.
"Maris."
"Yeah?" She tilts her face up toward mine. Waiting.
"I need—" The words tangle in my mouth. I don't know how to ask for this. Don't know the human custom for it. "Can I?—"
"Yes." She breathes the word. Doesn't wait for me to finish the question.
I kiss her. Hard. Desperate. All the fear and adrenaline from the last ten minutes pouring into the press of my mouth against hers. She kisses back just as fiercely. Her hands fist in my jacket. The blueprints crumple between us.
When we break apart, we're both shaking.
"Inside," she says again. Firmer this time. "We need to. Figure out what to do with these."
"Right. Yes. Inside."
We make it three steps toward the door before the sound of metal crashing against brick splits the air. The door to the alley slams open so hard it rebounds off the wall. The noise echoes through the narrow space between buildings.
Janelle stands there. Her face is flushed deep red. Hair disheveled. One hand clutches her phone like a weapon. The other braces against the doorframe as if she's been running.
"You," she snarls. The word comes out raw. Furious. She points directly at me. Her finger trembles with rage. "You broke into my office."
My jaw tightens. The blueprints crinkle in my fist. "You're destroying our homes," I shoot back. My voice comes out rougher. Louder.
"That's business." She spits the words. Takes a step into the alley. "What you did is theft. Criminal trespassing. Breaking and entering."
"What we took is evidence." I hold up the rolled papers. Let her see them clearly.
