CHAPTER THREE
Rylie made it back into Rapid City in just under four and a half hours.
Of course, she’d gone ninety the whole way. If Michael had been with her, such a feat never would’ve been possible, because he would’ve been white knuckling it, the whole way, feet on the dashboard, asking her to slow down. The man preferred driving like an old lady.
She pulled into the apartment complex, a sprawling neighborhood of eight squat brick buildings, and drove to the back where his apartment was situated, pressed up against a field of tall yellow grass. The moment she knocked on the door, he answered, as if he’d been waiting by it for her. “Took you long enough.”
“You wouldn’t have liked how I was driving,” she said, ignoring, as she always did, how movie-star handsome he was. He was effort
