Page 118 of Deliverance

“Look”—Zander’s voice turns to a nervous whisper—“we were jamming when he came over. One thing led to another, we ended up doing a cover of a track and he’s been obsessed with it ever since.”

I allow his words to filter through me and settle in. My mind is racing a million miles a second. “You did a cover?”

“Just a demo. And it didn’t go anywhere beyond the walls of my studio.”

“Which song?”

“‘Hang on Another Day’.”

My favorite. Cash wrote that composition during his first round of chemo treatments, and I can’t listen to it without getting teary-eyed. It’s the only exception. There’s no crying in my life otherwise.

“I know you told me you and Cash had a history,” Zander continues softly. “If this is making you sad or uncomfortable—”

“No, no. It doesn’t.” Shaking my head, I stare up at him and something compels me to tell him more. “Cash and I were just friends. We weren’t dating.”

“I didn’t ask you that.”

“But you’ve been wondering.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“No, but you’re trying so hard and I’m such a handful that I feel like I owe you some explanations.”

Zander brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “You owe me nothing, Drew.”

My heart kicks in my chest. The feel of his lips on my skin is too pleasant. It sends a tiny shiver down to my stomach and I press my thighs together. My body’s eager and hot and I’m confused, scared, and turned on all at once and don’t know how to react.

So I just sit there, surrounded by the purr of the aircraft and his ocean scent, and relish each moment.

We land at a small airport just outside New York City a little after lunch.

Eastern Time.

There’s already a car waiting for us by the terminal and Zander wraps me up in his jacket as we exit the plane because the middle of November here is much harsher than the middle of November in California.

It’s funny how fast you can get used to warm weather. I know I have.

“I thought you grew up in the North,” Zander teases, steering me toward the back seat of the Suburban.

My teeth are chattering and my cheeks feel like they’ve frozen over in all of the ten seconds I’ve been outside, but seeing the signs that indicate we’re close to The Big Apple makes me so giddy that I lose all ability to speak, and instead, I just scowl at him.

Once inside, I pull the sides of his jacket together, cocooning myself in the thick fabric.

The privacy divider slides up as soon as the vehicle begins to move and Zander draws me closer.

Outside, foreign-looking buildings and trees zip by. Everything feels different, even the air. It’s heavier and the sky is darker, riddled with fluffy clouds that hide the sun.

“Are you still cold?” Zander murmurs against my temple once we jump on the highway. “Do you want me to turn up the temperature?”

“No, I’m good.” I relax my head against the crook of his neck and listen to the rhythmic thrum of his pulse.

My mind is sifting through all the possible places he may be taking me. The Statue of Liberty? Central Park? The Empire State Building? Times Square? I saw all those during my high school trip, but it’s been a long time and I imagine they’d feel different now that I’m older. And, hopefully, more appreciative of this city.

When the landscape we pass begins to change to the oddly familiar and I recognize the art deco form of The Empire State Building taking shape up ahead, Zander lowers the privacy divider.

“You’re not going to tell me? Even now that we’re here?” I ask, staring up at him.

The drive has turned me into jello and I dread the moment we have to leave the car.

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