Page 266 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

Sweet.

Interesting.

Attentive.

Thoughtful.

And yes, flirty.

I think that’s ingrained in him.

I’ve heard enough stories to know he’s had his bad boy ways, but I was never treated like a one-night stand despite being exactly that.

He didn’t have to show up today, but he did, and from what Natalie said in the text, that backs what he told me. He wanted to. He wanted to be here for me.

After the fight.

After the mean things I said in anger.

After treating him less than he deserved and kicking him out of my apartment, he showed up in a big way for me.As he said . . . steady, loyal, and reliable.

He showed up when my mom didn’t.

Swinging my purse beside me as we walk down the street, I ask, “Why’d you make me eat so much?” I’m teasing, of course. I tortured myself by stuffing my face full of food and champagne.

“You only have yourself to blame for that.” He bumps into me playfully but keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. I kind of miss the little touches we’ve shared, the accidental and the purposeful ones over the years. “I guess I can take a little responsibility. If I had made pancakes this morning, you would have just drunk mimosas instead.”

Keeping my eyes forward, I don’t let the moment pass without saying what I need to get off my chest. “I would have done the same for you.”

“What is that?”

“You think I’m stubborn to a fault, but I would have come to you if you were in my shoes.”

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk like a tourist. “Is that what we’re calling it? Stubborn?”

Shrugging, I reply, “Bitchy works too.”

“Too far. I’ve never once thought about you that way.”

When grumbling New Yorkers gripe when they have to move around us, I take him by the arm and pull him off to the side. “Did you think about me often?”

“More than I should for a woman who hated my existence.”Dare I tell him that I never hated him? That I’d simply hated that we never had a chance?

Wrong place?

Wrong time?

If I’d only met him in the city . . . Well, I wouldn’t have walked away so quickly.

His attention is stolen by the candy store window display. A proposal scene with a giant Ring Pop sitting in a swirl of cotton candy with the words “I Do” in colorful edible dots. He says, “It’s June. Fitting display for a wedding month, but it’s making me hungry.”

“Hungry? We just stuffed ourselves.”

“No, you stuffed yourself.” As he rubs his stomach, the hem of his untucked shirt rides up. Not as much as I’d like but enough to have me wanting more. I know what’s under it, and his body never disappoints. “It takes a lot of food to keep this body going.”

“Only food as fuel?” Fine, I do my share of flirting with him too.

He grins, turning back to me. It’s not surprise that lies in that wry grin, but I think satisfaction. Yep, he’s winning. If making me happy is a victory for him, I’ll let him take the lead.

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