Page 30 of Before Eve
I do, but I don’t turn to look at him. “What do you want?”
“I…I want to help you,” he mumbles.
Slowly, I turn, seeing him two steps below me. “What did you say?”
But he doesn’t respond. In fact, he doesn’t even lift his head to look at me, and I begin to wonder if he said anything at all.
I stare down at his bent head and defeated posture. About amillion things go through my mind. But what I land on is—does he need my friendship as much as I need his?
That last thought has me softening with the realization that West might be lonelier than he lets on.
“Hey,” I whisper, and he lifts his head to look at me with a mixture of confusion and hope, but nothing happy. I want the happiness back. “Why don’t we forget what just happened. Sound good?”
His expression gentles, looking so relieved it makes me glad I said what I just did.
“You have the day off.” He brightens. “Will you spend it with me?”
I want to say yes, but I should say no. I wish my life was anything other than what it is.
“Somewhere between me asking you to spend the day and right now, your brain wandered off.” West stays right where he is, two steps below, as he wraps his hand around my bare knee and strokes the back of it with his fingers. It sends all kinds of tingles skipping through my body.
“No cameras,” he seemingly reads my mind. “We’ll wear hats and dark glasses. You’ll see. No one will bother us.”
I think about all the times he and I have gone running. The times we’ve been on and off buses and in and out of venues and hotels. It’s true. Usually, reporters snag him behind the stage or at the hotel. Fans or paparazzi get him coming out of venues. I’ve never once seen him get hounded just randomly out in public.
“Plus,” he continues, “it’s New York. We’ll blend in more than anything.”
My resolve slips a little. “What are you planning on doing?”
He continues stroking the back of my knee. “GrandCentral Station, Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, eat in Little Italy.”
Those are the exact things we talked about when we were looking at the map. Knowing he remembered fills me with all kinds of silly glee. “If I say no?” I tease.
“Then I’ll just go all by my little old self.” He pouts.
I chuckle.
West tilts his head to the side and lowers his fingers to tickle my calf. “So…?” He strokes back up to the underside of my knee and just a little higher to the back of my thigh. “Eve?”
I shift away, stepping up to the landing. I can’t think when he’s touching me.
“Please,” he begs.
“Okay. Sure.”
“Really?” He brightens again.
I smile. “Really.”
And he smiles back, but it’s not his usual grin. It’s more of a sweet one, a genuine one.
“Cool,” he says.
Yeah, cool.
CHAPTER 15
I standin front of my bathroom mirror, smoothing pomade through my wet hair and thinking of the kiss that almost happened in Central Park. In the mirror I catch sight of Anne sitting up in bed, scrolling through her iPad. She’s up earlier than usual for a day off.
