Page 8 of Hide and Peak

Page List


Font:  

I don’t answer. Instead, I think about what would be better. I don’t want to just text him. I want to see him again.

I lock up the bar, set the alarm, and we make our way to the subway station. Before I head down the stairs, I decide I’d rather see him tomorrow night than just give him my number.

“Meet me in Bryant Park tomorrow night. They do old movies on the lawn. I’ll bring the blanket and booze. You bring the food,” I tell him.

He nods and smiles. I didn’t think it was possible to like him more, but I do.

“Kiss me like that again tomorrow night, and you’ll get my number,” I tell him. I lean in and press a soft kiss to his throat. Right where his Adam’s apple protrudes and bobs as he swallows roughly. His neck is smooth in contrast to the scruff that lines his jaw and cheeks. I take another sniff, trying to lock it into my memory. He smells delicious. Aftershave and leather mixed with that clean scent of right before it snows. It sounds ridiculous, but I want to nuzzle into him. Or lick him.

With a laugh, he asks, “Did you just sniff me?”

I lift a shoulder as I walk away and move down the steps of the subway.

“What movie is it? At Bryant Park?”

I turn back, looking up at him from the bottom of the subway steps. “Ghostbusters.”

4

Henry

“What hasyou smiling this early on a Sunday morning?” my sister asks from her living room couch. I tried to be quiet when I came in, but that didn’t matter. I should have known better. Everly is up earlier than I am most days.

Ignoring her, I grab a cup from her dish rack and fill it with tap water. So thirsty. The sun is just barely up right now, but I’m wired after walking the length of the city back to her apartment.

“Henry! Answer me. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in, like, a year,” she says with a laugh. Pointing to the coffeepot as she pours another cup, I nod, letting her know I’ll take a cup too. My sister is the best of us. There isn’t a damn thing she wouldn’t do for the rest of my family or me. Something is both comforting and stressful about that. Knowing that a person wants nothing more than to see you happy. No expectations or exchange necessary. She radiates pure warmth. She keeps us honest in the ways that matter the most: looking out for each other and ensuring that there's someone to help you breathe when life gets too heavy.

That’s why I came to New York. Instead of heading back home to Strutt’s Peak right away. I’ve never felt the need to escape from there. It’s the one place that grounds me. My friends and the rest of my family were all there, but I just couldn’t stomach going back for one very glaring reason. Going back to tell everyone that I failed at the one thing I wanted to do for my entire life seemed like a self-torture I wasn’t ready to dive into just yet. I needed to get my head right before settling into my life. When I left, I left thinking I was going to be someone entirely different, but it didn’t turn out that way. I went back to spend time with my brothers. They were both struggling in their own ways, so I did what I always do; I tried to be the hero. It bit me in the ass and then fucked me sideways. So, now I’m here. Licking wounds. Trying to do some soul searching and figure out my next moves.

She clears her throat, “Hello,” waving at me as she passes me the cup of coffee she poured.

I laugh. “Sorry. A lot on my mind.”

“Ahhhhhhh, no. No way are you getting away with that. You either had one helluva subway ride, or you met someone.”

“Can it be both?” I squint as I ask, knowing that she won’t let up until I’ve spilled.

She barks out a laugh just as she swallows a sip of coffee. “Hah! Yes, it can be both. Now tell me everything and don’t leave out any details.” She tucks her feet under her on the couch across from where I sit. “Well, leave out anything that might gross me out.” She flips her hand in the air.

“I’ll talk about the girl in a minute, but I had another idea. Something you might want to entertain.”

“I’m listening.”

“What would you say to coming back to Strutt’s and diving into the business with me?”

She pauses for a minute to really think about what I’m saying. “Seriously?” she asks.

I give her a nod. “I did a lot of walking and just thought about what would make sense now that,” I trail off the thought. “—the Air Force. Being a pilot is the only thing I’ve ever wanted, but that’s off the table now, and regardless of whether or not I like it, that’s my reality. So I’m thinking, why not dig into our legacy? See if we can really do some good with it. Either that or I stay in New York and try something entirely out of left field.”

I shift in the chair, suddenly feeling more confident with both of those ideas. Both are a fresh start. That’s what I need. Something to feel good about again. A goal. Goals, I understand. I’m great with a purpose and a goal. The in-between I’m in right now is a damn nightmare.

“There’s no way I could ever imagine you in this city, Hen,” she says. And I laugh a bit because she’s right. I’d never last here very long. Not enough open space. Breathing room. Although if that gorgeous pixie asked me to stay, I’d probably find a reason to do it. I smile, thinking about her. I need to see her again.

“There’s so much that Dad hasn’t been able to do yet with the business. Things that we’ve all talked about hypothetically with him for years. It could be so much more than storefront and equipment rentals. Don’t you think?” She nods, smiling. I know I’ve got her attention now. I see her wheels spinning. “I’m going to talk to him when I’m back and pitch the concept of building out winter adventures.”

She takes a minute, sipping her coffee. I can see her trying the idea on and picturing it. I’ve had more time to think about it, and I want to give her the same to consider what it could mean for all of us. It’s also a big change from what she’s in New York doing right now.

“I’m so burnt out, stressing about getting a call back from one of these fashion houses, or even a somewhat respected designer to gain an apprenticeship with, and it feels like I’m in a losing battle. I’ve already been tempted to pack it up and come home, so you don’t have to sell me too hard on this. I just never wanted to quit, but if this is something I could really dig into...”


Tags: Victoria Wilder Romance