Page 26 of Come to Me

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She chuckles.

"Maybe if I was spending six months in Portland or Seattle."

"Then it will be the weather--you'll be sick of sunshine."

"Once again, spoken like a true Californian."

"Please. Southern Californian. It gets cold in San Francisco."

She shakes her head, practically buzzing with excitement. "You're only making my case, honey."

I smile. "Then you'll complain about the pizza."

"I don't eat pizza," she reminds me.

It rolls off her tongue like it's nothing, and I try to treat it the same way. So what if she doesn't eat pizza? She's been better a long time. She'll be okay in New York.

I take her hand. "There are too many things you can learn to hate about L.A."

"Like its utter lack of personality. Or its terrible public transportation. Or maybe it will be all the shallow assholes," she lists off the top of her head.

"We could move to New York."

She glances at me.

"You just started a business."

"I could take the New York bar. I could start a business here. Expand."

She shakes her head. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

"Maybe. But I like getting ahead of myself. I like envisioning us as some bi-coastal power couple."

She cringes, sticking out her tongue. "I am not going to be half of a power couple. That sounds horrifyingly public."

"I think it's an interesting option."

"Let's just survive these six months before we entertain any more crazy ideas."

Seems reasonable enough.

But crazy can be fun sometimes.

She leans back into me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close.

We spend the rest of the drive absorbing the scenery.

There's a lot to take in.

When we finally cross the bridge into the city, I'm in awe. Spending so much time in Los Angeles, it's so easy to forget how a real city feels.

This is a fuckingcity. The slate gray streets, the bright yellow taxis, the dark blue of the Hudson River.

We stop at a building on Water Street.

It's a nice place--as sleek on the inside as it is on the outside. Everything about it is shiny, clean, and new.

Alyssa bites her lip, clearly not in love with the place. She throws me anof course you want me to live here, you rich snobkind of look.