Page 36 of If Ever

I sigh at the instant warmth. "Thank you." I wrap my arms around his to offer some reciprocal warmth and grin. This night keeps getting better.

He leans his head close. "I'm always looking for an excuse to put my arms around a beautiful girl."

I laugh at his line, but it's been so long since a nice guy has given me compliments.

"I should have insisted we come outside earlier," he says.

"I bet you use these lines a lot in New York."

"Absolutely, I hang out in front my building waiting to warm any random women waiting for the bus."

"I should have known you're a player." But inside, I hope he's not. I'd like to part ways believing he's one of the good ones.

"Oh yeah, you should see me with the little old ladies. My apartment is next to a senior center. I'm quite popular with the grey-haired set."

A black car pulls up to the curb and rolls down the window. "Tom Oliver?"

"That's us." He releases me, and cool air moves in. He opens the car door, and I slide in. The driver heads to my apartment. There's so much I want to say, so much I want to wish for, but our time together is nearly over. Tom is quiet, but his thigh rests against my leg. Does he feel the connection too, or is he just a space hog?

"Here we are," the driver says outside my temporary home.

"I'm going to walk her to the door. I'll be right back." Tom steps out of the car and takes my hand.

We take our time to the door, putting off the moment we have to part. The cool night air makes me long for his arms again. I face him with my key in hand and take in the sight of this tall, handsome man before me. "I guess this is goodbye."

"If only tonight could have lasted for days." He smiles, and in that moment, I believe he speaks the truth.

"Have a safe flight tomorrow, and thank you again for everything. I'll never forget today."

He moves to leave then turns back. "Chelsea, I want you to know something. Your performance tonight was one of those special moments that doesn't happen very often. You can rehearse some songs or scenes a hundred times and never strike the magical chord you hit tonight. I don't know if it was the chemistry of everyone on stage, or just an organic moment, but it was special and something I'll always remember being a part of."

I look into his eyes, overwhelmed. "I don't know what to say."

He gives my hands a warm squeeze. "I'll be watching the show tomorrow, and if by some impossibility you're sent home, I'm going to write the producers a firmly worded letter."

"You do that." I laugh and before I realize what's happening, he kisses the corner of my mouth, as if he didn't want to get too personal, but still wanted that final connection.

"Good night, Chelsea," Tom says and disappears down the sidewalk.

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