Longing for that taste—and those older, simpler times—rushes through me, filling me with nostalgia. Before I know it, I’m texting back—Yeah. That would be great. Thanks.
It isn’t until fifteen minutes later, after I’ve started my laundry and am standing in line for the sandwich cart that I realize that this means Sam and I will be spending at least seven or eight hours together.
Half an hour in his presence last night was enough to have me fantasizing about video games in bed. God only knows what I’ll be dreaming up after such prolonged exposure to the sexy beast my old bestie has become.
“He could always annoy the hell out of you,” I mutter. “Maybe by the end of the night you’ll decide you hate him, and all the stressful stuff will be off the table.”
The woman in front of me glances over her shoulder, arching a surprised brow when she sees that the person talking to herself behind her doesn’t appear to be mentally ill or traumatized by homelessness.
I shrug and add, “Sometimes you give yourself the best advice.”
She nods. “Sometimes. But he’s not going to annoy the hell out of you. You’ve got it bad for this guy. I can tell. You’re blushing just thinking about him.”
Hands flying to my cheeks, I feel the telltale heat and groan.
The stranger smirks. “Yeah. I feel you. I had a guy like that once.”
“Yeah? How did that work out?”
“I married him,” she says, making my heart lift only to send it plummeting back into my snarling stomach as she adds, “And then I divorced him when I caught him sleeping with my sister.”
“Ugh,” I say.
“Indeed,” she agrees before turning around to place her order.
As she asks for egg whites with extra cheese on her bagel, I silently renew my vow to keep this thing with Sam casual. I don’t have a sister, but still…better safe than sorry.
CHAPTER SIX
Sam
Iarrive fifteen minutes early—who cares about playing it cool; I want Jess to know how excited I am to spend time with her—to find her already outside on the front stoop.
Though I don’t recognize her at first…
Gone is the 1960s sex kitten from last night and in her place is a skater kid in wide-leg black jeans and an oversized blue t-shirt with an ominous-looking mountain range across the chest. Her hair is in low pigtails under a backward baseball cap and if she’s wearing any makeup, it’s not much more than a touch of mascara and lip gloss.
She looks about twelve years old, so young I feel a little weird about how much I wish we were on a “kiss and hug hello” basis.
Reminding myself that I’m only six months older than my secret crush, I jog the rest of the way across the street with a big grin.
“You’re early,” she says, gazing up at me from her perch halfway down the steps.
“And your shirt is amazing,” I say, laughing now that I’m close enough to read the words beneath the mountain range and giant eye on one side. “Mordor 5K Fun Run, huh? Is that a testimony to the fact that you’d need an army of orcs at your back to convince you to run a 5K? Or have you embraced running long distances in my absence?”
Her lips hook up on one side. “The first one, obviously. Though I like to imagine the Ringwraiths after me when I jog, not orcs. I find the ‘creepy, faceless ghoul on horseback’ thing very athletically motivating.” She grabs a brown knit bag from the step beside her and loops the strap across her chest before standing and brushing off the back of her jeans. “You ready? It’s about forty-five minutes on the subway, so we should get going.”
I fall into step beside her as she starts down the sidewalk, headed south. “Or I could order a car if you want to tell me where we’re headed. I’m on an expense account while I’m here, so it’s like play money.”
She looks up at me. “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Being rich in your early twenties?”
I shrug a little uncomfortably. “Who said I was rich?”
“You’re rich, I can tell.” She motions to my clothes. “I know enough about fashion now to know all of that is pricey. And your haircut is perfectly messy without being too messy. That doesn’t come cheap, either. So, fess up, what’s it like? Awesome? Overrated? Somewhere in between?”