Page 22 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“Are you sure?” I ask, sounding aloof.

He chuckles but still leads me back into the bedroom. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

"The middle.”

A wry grin, visible even in the low light, crosses his lips. “Okay, you get in, and I’ll find a spot.”

I scramble under the covers as he patiently waits for me to settle in. I lie in the middle of the mattress, arms and legs spread wide, but then laughter takes hold, and I bring them to my sides and move to the left—just a little.

His eyes catch the light, revealing his amusement as he crawls on top of the covers beside me. It’s only a moment, not even a minute before I warn him, “I’m coming over.”

Wordlessly, his arm goes wide, and I snuggle against his side. He’s not lacking words for long, though. “Now that you got me here, what are you going to do with me?”

“Shhh. Snuggling also involves the quiet game.” I give myself away when I giggle, my body shaking against his.

“I have to say, that’s not one of my favorite games. I tend to lose when I play.”

Now he chooses to talk up a storm.“Suddenly, this doesn’t surprise me. If it makes you feel better, I usually lose, too. Maybe we can try together.”

“Losing, or are you trying to get me to shut up?”

Patting his chest—the hard chest where his heart thunders underneath—I say, “Never. I like the sound of your voice.”I like the rhythm of your heart. I like the strength in your arms even when you’re relaxed.I very much like snuggling with Nick.

It’s not just the faded scent of his cologne that I’ll miss come morning. It’s the slow and gentle connection we’re building, the way he beat me at backgammon but didn’t rub it in my face, and the look I caught in his eyes when I lay suspended in his arms at the bar. We’ve already shared a myriad of moments, and it’s only just gone midnight.

I close my eyes, letting these growing emotions drift away like the ocean tide. No use spending energy on something that has an expiration date the next morning. I wiggle a little closer when his arm tightens around me. “Good night,” I whisper.

“I like the sound of your voice, too.”

And then he kisses my forehead.

In the moonlight sneaking in through the window as his breath steadies along with mine, I smile. I’m a sucker for a forehead kiss. Almost nothing is more romantic than that caress. With my cheek pressed to his chest, I realize I’m also a sucker for Nick.

* * *

I could lie herein heaven forever and never want for anything more than this weightlessness that bears no burdens to my life. I feel free in Nick’s bed, practically purring while wrapped in his sheet in the warm and inviting space.

And although it’s so similar to our room, I feel safe tucked in Nick’s bed surrounded by his belongings. So much of Nick invades my world that I didn’t note earlier when I was wide awake. The hints of rum coat his breath, and a leather satchel worn enough to have traveled the world is next to the bed. A book . . . a tangible book with a bookmark sticking out from between the pages is on the nightstand next to a silver travel alarm clock. These aren’t the items of any college guy I know.

The clock, book, and bag are sophisticated like the man who owns them. Even the rum smells sexy coming from him. I’m sure my breath is the exact opposite.

It’s tempting to snoop around and learn more about this man I’ve spent my night with while he sleeps. He’s older but not by much—life hasn’t yet dug into his expression, leaving its mark—yet enough to easily compare him to the guys I dated at university, making them seem immature in comparison, especially my ex.

The breakup with Dane still hangs heavily over my head. It’s dumb, just as I was for trusting him . . . I swiftly sweep away all thoughts of him, wanting to relish in Nick for a bit, happy to let him consume my thoughts instead. His kind side can’t be denied. He’s given me a place to rest, eat, and wait, all without asking for a single thing in return.

Despite my desire to lounge around, I slip out of bed after a few hours of sleep, knowing I’ve stayed longer than I should, and tiptoe into the bathroom. I freshen up and then tuck my shirt into the front of the waistband of my shorts, leaving the tail to float behind me as I pad through the suite in bare feet. The tiles are cool against my skin, and the breeze sneaking in from outside through the door is a much-needed breath of fresh air. It cools me from the heat Nick left behind as he caressed my skin.

I find my shoes and slip them back on. I don’t know where his phone is to check the messages, but there’s no sign of his friend anywhere either.

Checking the time, I wonder if Tatum ever made it back. With one hour until we need to start our trek back to New York, I’m willing to take the chance and head back to our room.

The sinking feeling in my gut that I’m forgetting something isn’t logical since I showed up at Nick’s door with nothing. I peek into the bedroom one more time, spying him lying right where I left him. I hate leaving, wondering if I’m walking out on a good thing.

I am.

Although last night was filled with many highs, laughs, and something that I thought had the potential to bloom into more, this relationship was always meant to be strangers who bonded once on vacation. First-name basis.And I’m okay with that.

My life is too messy to drag someone across the country to become a part of it.

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