Page 27 of Tickled Pink

What the hell?

I step forward, but I stop on the bottom stair. “Aren’t you coming?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got somewhere to be,” he says, inching closer. He kisses the edge of my mouth with smiling lips, sparking a grin of my own. “I love you, Phoebe.”

“I love you, too,” I say. I take a few steps upward and point. “Just… follow the lights?”

He nods. “Follow the lights.”

I turn up my hands. “Okay…”

I do as he says, feeling his loving eyes on me the entire way up the stairs. The string of lights curls along the banister and drops to the floor, instantly traveling right back up to take me to the third floor.

I continue that way, following the lights just as Max told me to. As foolish as it sounds, I wonder where they’ll lead me. Foolish because I’ve lived in this brownstone for a year now. I know that Max’s home office is to the left at the top of the stairs and across from that is the guest bedroom and down the hall from that is my reading nook with the big window that gives me something to look at while I daydream.

But the lights curl right past them to the last door in the hallway. The roof exit.

I follow the lights. I push the door open and take the last remaining steps upward to the roof, pulling my jacket tighter around me as the air turns cold.

The string of lights come to an end. I step out onto the snow-covered roof to stand amid the current winter wonderland that is New York City, complete with falling snow, flashing lights, and the smell of cheap food vendors on the corner.

“Hey, Pheebs.”

I look out across the roof and I instantly smile at that silly red checkered tie.

“Hi, Thad,” I greet.

Chapter Seven

Phoebe

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

I fill my lungs with city and snow. “Yeah, it is,” I answer.

Thad smiles as he looks up. “Little early to see Santa in this hemisphere, but you never know. Might get lucky.”

I laugh as I step toward him, my body still buzzing from my encounter with Max. As I drift closer, I notice the silver food cart parked by the edge of our roof — but we don’t own a food cart, last I checked.

“You hungry?” Thad asks, following my gaze.

“I could eat some more,” I say.

“Awesome. Come on.”

Thad walks over to the cart. I follow close behind him, enjoying the various scents steaming out of it as he opens it. He grabs a toasted bun and a pair of tongs and I smile as I watch him fix me a hot dog exactly how I like it.

He plops it on a small paper tray and offers it to me. “Milady,” he says.

I take it. “Thank you, sir.”

I wait for him to fix his own, casually glancing around as I take in the moment. Me. Thad. An outside stroll with hot dogs and a cool drink. I welcome the familiar smile on my cheeks. It’s just like that night back in Los Angeles.

Just like our first date.

I take a bite of my hot dog, relishing in the juicy flavors coating my tongue. “That’s good,” I mumble, my mouth full.

“So good,” Thad agrees as he takes his own bite.

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