Page 252 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

Always ready to laugh, at least my jokes land with him. “That’s good to hear.”

As if Nick appears out of nowhere, Natalie turns back to me while resting against her husband. His hands slide around her waist, resting on her flat belly that will soon be much bigger.

It’s not envy.

I’m not ready for the baby stage of life yet, but maybe my own person to rest against wouldn’t be so bad.

“In regard to being godparents, we took you both by surprise, but please don’t think we made our decision lightly,” Nick says.

Harrison stands next to me, and for a moment, our hands brush against each other’s. It’s the lightest of touches, but it makes me feel like we’re a team. “I won’t speak for Tatum, but it would be an honor.”

“You’re a good man, Deck.” He and Nick do that man-hug thing guys do—a shoulder bump, a pat on the back, lots of self-congratulatory talk.

Wiping a tear, I find it’s heartwarming to witness. I want that. Not the man-hug thing, but to be a part of something amazing that will always bind me to my best friend. “I’m in.” The words come out too fast to take them back. Not that I want to, but I probably should have given it more thought.

“You are?” Natalie asks, her eyes welling with tears. Joy lifts her expression as she rushes to hug me. “Thank you, Tate.”

“Our kid will be lucky to have you,” Nick says.

“Thank you.”

As other guests come toward the door, Harrison says, “I’m going to see Tatum home.”

Knowing they saw us earlier, I feel my cheeks heat. Blushing isn’t something I normally do, but here I am, acting like a schoolgirl. We say our goodbyes, and then Natalie says, “Thanks for taking care of my best friend.”

Harrison looks back. “My pleasure.”

The door closes as we walk down the steps. “I’m hoping it’s mine, as well.” I click my tongue and give him a little wink.

“Don’t worry.” We reach the curb, and he opens the door for me. Just as I start to get in, I stop to say—but he kisses me, stealing the words right off my tongue. “I’ve waited what feels like forever for this night. There’s no way I’m leaving a single inch of you untouched or wanting.”

There’s not much left to say, except, “How fast can we get to Tribeca?”

9

Harrison

Apparently,onecanget from the Upper East Side to Tribeca pretty damn fast when a large tip is involved. Who knew, considering it’s Saturday night? Helps to have a local calling the shots. And call the shots she did anytime traffic slowed. He finally gave in and just listened to the lady.

Smart man.

She was right, but that doesn’t surprise me.

Her building, on the other hand . . .Holy. Shit.

Pure money. I’m still learning about Manhattan real estate, but damn, even I know nothing’s worth less than a mil in this place. And that’s probably a basement apartment with no windows.

Location.

Location.

Why is she located so far from me in this elevator?Just the way she looks at me has me hard.Fuck, let’s be honest. She doesn’t even have to look at me. The tips of her fingers teased my leg in the back of the car. The kisses she placed on my neck when the driver was too busy to notice in the mirror had me squirming.

I was good, keeping my hands to myself, but these last few flights are a struggle. She’s so sexy I could devour her whole.

I’m still hoping to actually . . .

The elevator dings when we reach her floor, and she says, “Almost home,” like she’s talking to anyone she knows, not the guy she wanted to have sex with in the middle of a dinner party earlier. Please don’t let things have cooled. It’s a vicious cycle we’re caught in. I’m starting to think we have the worst timing ever.

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