Page 55 of The Tryst

Leaving my apartment, I draw a deep, cleansing breath, vowing to think clean thoughts about that dirty man.

* * *

I’ve seen a lot of swank buildings in Manhattan. But Nick Adams’ glittery high-rise is something else. It kisses the blue skies of New York City.

And yet it doesn’t need to be the tallest or the biggest building in the skyline. It’s simply content to be the most beautiful with its art deco style.

Ethan and I turn onto Nick’s block, and his Gramercy Park palace comes into view. My friend whistles as he stares. “Damn, girl.”

I gaze at the gorgeous structure too; its beauty is a wonderful distraction from the looming dread of going inside, up to the top floor, and planning an event with my friend and his father. If awkward had a headshot, it’d be me.

“This won’t be weird at all,” I say.

“You’ll be fine,” Ethan reassures me, squeezing my arm.

We took a bus together—I don’t like subways—since Ethan’s meeting Martina for ping-pong tonight at a nearby bar. Of course he remained friends with the sexy redheaded bartender from Gin Joint after dating her and then breaking it off. Same for the guy at The Lucky Spot, the one who recognized him and came to his show then talked him up afterward. They went out a few times too, and still work out together, even though they don’t date anymore.

Ethan just has this way about him with people. Which is why I asked him to walk me here. I didn’t want to face this alone. “How am I even supposed to act with the two of them?”

We stop several feet from the building’s entrance, and the look in his eyes says he’s about to dole out some tough love. “Like you haven’t seen both of them naked.”

I groan from the depths of my embarrassed soul.

“I’m right though,” he adds.

“I know,” I say, stepping closer so I can drop my face against his sturdy chest. “Trust me, I know.”

He strokes my hair. “I mean it, Layla. Just focus on the planning. The charity. The reason you wanted to do this with David. He’s a cool dude. We all like him. Everyone likes him. He’s like a good dog.”

David’s not quite a part of the crew, but we’ve gone out a few times as a group. He joined us for karaoke shortly after he graduated.

I raise my head and concur. “He’s a Golden Retriever.”

Ethan smiles slyly. “You do know a Golden Retriever boyfriend is a good thing.”

I laugh. “And yet neither one of us has one,” I say.

“Maybe I’m waiting for the same kind of man you are,” he whispers as if he’s sharing a tawdry secret. But he’s telling me something we both know. We have similar taste in men. A little edgy, a little dirty. He gestures to the building. “Because obviously you fucked a sex prince.”

I laugh. “Yes, a rich sex prince, with a fantastic dick, a to-die-for beard, a dirty mind, and oh, one more thing,” I say, then lower my voice since you never know who’s listening. “I can’t ever see him again, since his son is my ex and my friend, and also his son is the sweetest Golden Retriever ever.”

Ethan gazes skyward, shaking his head wistfully. “I really shouldn’t say this, but I bet the sex inthatpenthouse with Hot Daddy would have been torrid.”

“You’re not helping. Do you want me to torture you with stories of forbidden affairs? Someday, you’re going to meet a hottie and then you’re going to discover they’re your new bandmate.”

“Don’t curse me,” he says.

“Maybe it’s a blessing.”

“Only if it ends in a blow job.”

I bump my shoulder to his. “You pig. Is that all you care about?”

“Have you ever had a blow job?”

“Shockingly, no,” I deadpan as we walk the remaining feet to the building.

“I rest my case,” he says. We reach the entrance, where a doorman in a burgundy suit stands dignified. The place is so classy the doormen don’t even need to dress in livery costumes. Tailored suits will do, thank you very much.

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