“You live around here?”
“Lower East Side.” She fidgeted with her hoodie zipper.
“City life what you expected?”
“Love it.” Now she was playing with the end of her ponytail. “You?”
“Westchester, north of here.”
She nodded. “How’s the commute?”
It sucks. “Could be worse.” He’d much rather talk about her.
She pointed at the Chinese restaurant on the far corner. “I’ll have to check out their specials. Ever eaten there?”
“Nah.” Come on, Lexie, talk to me. “The new job’s treating you okay, aside from today?”
Her smile tightened. “Work is great. My coworkers are terrific and my boss is, well, like a boss. I’m learning a lot.”
He mulled that over. “Chinese is good, but ice cream’s always been more my style.”
“You sound like my roommate, Sam.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Sam?”
“She’s all about the maple walnut. I’m more of a chocolate kind of girl. What’s your favorite?”
Ah, Samantha. His heart resumed its natural rhythm. “Black cherry.”
“I think there’s a shop on the next corner. We could get waffle cones.”
The thought of her licking an ice cream cone did funny things to his insides. “Wouldn’t that kind of defeat the purpose behind our walk?”
She rolled her eyes.
“C’mon. Let’s keep going.” Turning the conversation back to nutrition and exercise, he slipped in questions about her job or personal life here and there as they walked, but before he knew it, they were a block from J&C. Damnit. The sun had sunk low in the sky, and he hadn’t learned much at all. Lots of people were private, but Lexie made it an art form.
Running his hands through his hair, he snuck another glance.
She was so beautiful—pink cheeks and a nose to match, thanks to the chill, and long hair the same rich brown as his dining room table. Was her skin as velvety soft as it looked? Would her lips taste as delicious as she smelled?
Velvet? Delicious? What?
He had to stop. Should’ve known that co-teaching Classic Love Letters and Poetry last semester would have lasting side effects.
“Our street’s here, right?” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and shivered. Sadness crept into her eyes, and a sudden gust of air lifted her silky bangs, revealing tiny, tired creases in her forehead.
He nodded. “We’re almost there.” What had happened? She’d seemed so upbeat the entire walk. Was she sad about returning to the gym?
“The light.” She pointed to the walk sign. “You coming?” Stepping off the curb into the crosswalk without checking first, she glanced back at him when she should’ve been paying attention to the oncoming traffic—
A black blur barreled down the avenue, and she was directly in its path.
“Watch out!” He reached out, adrenaline spurring his muscles into action and rocketing him forward. He caught her sleeve and yanked her toward him.
Air whistled between them and the SUV as the vehicle zoomed past with its horn blaring.
He held her tight, his heart pounding in his ears. She felt…right. Matthew inhaled her scent, alive and warm.
“Wow. You saved me.” She shook her head, her expression a mix of confusion and gratitude as she looked down at his arms around her.
I don’t want to let go.
What if something had happened to her?
His protective instincts kicked in, and he squeezed her a little tighter as he closed his eyes to breathe her in.
“Matthew?”
Cursing, he snapped his eyes open.
“We need to go.” She pushed against him.
He dropped his arms and walked next to her, the light having changed again. “You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded stiffly, her polite smile in place.
Way to go, Hennessey. You’ve been around her a total of three hours? Get a grip, already. No wonder she looks scared. She doesn’t even know you.
He mentally kicked his ass the rest of the way to J&C Associates.
“I’d say that counted as warm-up, cardio, and cool down,” she joked when they’d reached their destination. But the humor didn’t reach her eyes. She pulled a MetroCard from her purse. “I’m going to head home from here, okay?”
She wasn’t even going to return to the gym with him? He scrubbed a hand over his face and cursed. Any headway he’d thought he’d made with her had been erased with one dumbass move. “Hey, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I guess it scared me a little, too.” He waited for her response, but she didn’t say anything, so he went on. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Walk you to the subway?”
She shook her head, staring at a point somewhere over his shoulder.
Matthew cleared his throat, feeling like a used towel. “Well then, maybe go home and take a hot shower and stretch a bit more before bed.”
“Yep.” She gave him a half-wave before turning to join the flow of pedestrians heading east.
She was leaving, all right. He took two steps toward the gym entrance then paused. “Lexie?”
She stopped and looked back.
Aw, fuck. Was she crying?
She threw him a watery smile. “See you Friday.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. Matthew blew out a breath and stepped into the building, a cold pervading his bones that the blasting heat from the overhead air ducts couldn’t thaw. Holding her might’ve been a screw-up in more ways than one. What if she shut him out for good?
He shook his head, refusing to think negative. He’d be damned if he’d give up on her without trying one last time.
Chapter Eight
Lexie and her fellow commuters swayed with the car’s rocking motion, crammed together like clothes in a washing machine. She grasped a thick vinyl strap overhead and stared absently at the back of a broad man wearing camo, while trying to ignore the pair of kids snapping bubblegum and talking behind her at top volume about whatever entertaining photos they were checking out on their smartphones.
There was one stop until freedom when her phone vibrated. She sighed. That was the second missed call in fifteen minutes. Had to be Mom. She’d have to return the call, of course, and make sure her mother was okay, but that would have to wait until she could hear herself think.
Walking with Matthew had been a bright spot in a dreary day, but then she’d gone and ruined it—by almost getting run over. Worse, she’d ditched him outside their building, and now she was left wondering what his lips would’ve felt like on hers. She shivered and shook her head. No, Matthew might want her, but he didn’t even know her.
And he won’t.
Because God help her if he did.
The floor beneath her shook as the train slowed, and Lexie braced for the stop. She followed the human current flowing out of the car and up the narrow flight of stairs. At street level, she pulled out her phone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Lexie?”
“I’m here.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. “You okay?”
Her mother sniffed. “We just got in. Aiden brought the flowers for the grave.”
Lexie sucked in a breath and clapped a hand over her mouth. Guilt weighed on her like wet cement, and her shoulders drooped. “I am so, so sorry.” She slogged toward her apartment. “Is Aiden still with you?”
“He’s right here. I’ll put him on.”
“No.” She forced out the words. “I mean, uh, I can’t talk right now.” Numb, Lexie ended the call.
I’m so sorry, Dad.
Then it hit her—that black cloud.
Blinded by tears, she half walked, half ran the last block to her building.
She was sitting alone in the dark an hour later, unmoving and uncaring, when a ping sounded from her purse. Zombie-like, she slid the phone onto her lap.
How was your day?
Leaning her head back on the sofa cushion, she groa
ned. If only she could vent to him.
Nope. Stupid idea.
She texted Sam.
No response.
The clock ticked and the fridge hummed. All was quiet overhead at the neighbors, too, though it was still early by city standards. Even the Chihuahua was mute. She sighed again. Her father had been the world’s best listener.
I miss you, Dad.
Lexie glanced at the phone next to hers.
Before she could examine her reasons too closely, she jotted Steel’s number on the back of her notebook, and entered it in her cell. Hi. It’s me. That other number was my work phone. This one’s my personal.
Bad day?
She exhaled. The worst.
What happened?
Today’s my father’s birthday, but I forgot. I’ve never forgotten. I’m a horrible, horrible daughter.
It’s only eight. You can still call him. He’ll understand.
He’s dead. It’s my mother I’m worried about. I should’ve remembered. She shuddered. No wonder her mother had been calling more lately. April was always a difficult month for her.
I’m sorry. But it’s okay to move on.
Lexie wiped her eyes.
I feel so guilty. I hung up on my mother. I mean, who does that? I’m a terrible human being. I just miss him so much. I don’t like talking about it. And that seems to be all she wants to talk about. I’m rambling.
Don’t be so hard on yourself.
He was too nice, too forgiving. She didn’t deserve sympathy. She sniffled.
What was your dad like?
Memories of her dad flooded her, of him laughing and twirling her around in the air, smiling up at her as she held her arms out to play airplane. He was wonderful. He’s the reason I moved to New York. She stared at her last message. Wow. Was that true? She shrugged out of her hoodie and rested her head back on the sofa. But I told my mother all aspiring artists move here or to L.A. and New York is a lot closer to home than California.
You’re an artist, too?
Sort of. I love to play with words, feel the lines take shape, grow the rhythm of them.
A writer?
She felt a smile tug at her lips. Yes.
Ah, a woman after my own heart.
I’m a playwright, yet to be published. LOL
Impressed.
She laughed. Don’t be. I haven’t made as much progress as I’d like, haven’t signed on with an agent yet, and I’m just beginning to let people read and critique my work. She paused. My mother says I make everything harder than it needs to be. Maybe I do. I know it’s a stretch, but I’ve got to try.
Broadway fan?
Ever since I saw Beauty and the Beast. I was seven.
Her father had made all the arrangements for their weekend in the city. They’d stayed at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square, and she and Aiden had begged to ride the glass elevators. They’d window-shopped, eaten cheesecake at Junior’s, and surveyed the city below them from the top of the Empire State Building.
But the absolute best part of that weekend had been the play. It was Disney and a lot of critics didn’t always take those musicals seriously, but it had been everything to her.
She glanced at the phone in her hand and her half-written message. I knew I had to live and work here.
You should be proud. Lots of people talk about it, but few actually try to write.
It’s different here. Not what I thought. Hope I fit in.
Crap. She’d shared too much of herself. Ms. Swann didn’t worry about fitting in.
Be yourself. I like you the way you are.
Lexie’s heart did a comical little dance when she read his last sentence.
Until she remembered.
Steel thought he was texting Ms. Swann. Not her. Sure, her boss had given her the go-ahead to chat with the guy to keep him interested, but still, she needed to tread carefully, too. Thanks for listening. You made a crappy day better.
You’re very welcome. Text soon?
Looking forward to it. Good night. She powered off the phone and held it against her heart for a few moments.
Maybe it wasn’t too late.
Lexie clicked on the nearby lamp, powered up her laptop, and logged in to Skype. She waved as Aiden opened his screen. Wow. It was like he’d been waiting for her to connect with him online. “Hi.” She smiled through a fresh batch of tears at the sight of her twin hanging out at their childhood home. The place triggered so many memories, good and bad. “How’d you know?”
He shrugged and gave her that lopsided grin she hadn’t seen him wear for years. “I didn’t. But I hoped.”
Maybe they could start a new tradition, in addition to putting flowers on the grave. “Where’s Mom? I thought maybe we could talk about our memories of Dad as a family, the three of us. What do you say?”
Her mother popped into view, looking tired but happy. “Okay, but you kids start. I’m afraid I’ll bust out crying if I share first.”
For the first time in a long time, far longer than before she’d moved to New York, Lexie felt like she was part of her little family again. “I was talking to a friend earlier and I remembered about the time we all came into the city that weekend…”
Chapter Nine
‘If ever any beauty I did see, which I desired, and got, ‘twas but a dream of thee.’
“Ah, now that’s romantic.” Lexie sighed. Good thing she’d waited to check her messages until after she’d met her writing goal for the day and was all snuggled in bed. Steel’s texts were definitely a distraction.
A sweet, confusing distraction, but still…
She read the next. Forgive my late text but this line popped into my head, and I wanted to share with you.
He’d never know that he’d inspired her to connect with her brother last night, or that it had been the first real talk they’d had as a family about her father since his death. But she could acknowledge his thoughtfulness toward her boss. It’s beautiful. Thank you.
Another bubble appeared on the screen. Hey! You’re there. Hope your day was amazing.
Hmm. Ms. Swann had been in meetings all day, evaluating press releases and some upcoming promo event for a client’s new product launch. What should she share? Can’t complain. Pretty productive day.
Lexie’s had been productive, too. If she stayed on track, her next play would be ready for beta readers by next week.
What else is new?
She sat up and nibbled a pinky nail absently. There must be a way through this without causing suspicion on his part, while also playing it straight.
Scratchy throat. Resting before my big presentation tomorrow. You? Ms. Swann’s team was scheduled to present its selected press releases in the morning. And unless her boss sucked on lozenges by the handful because she enjoyed their menthol taste, that part was truthful, too.
The Yankees are losing. Did you try hot tea and honey?
Yankees? She scrunched her nose. Go Phillies! Great idea.
So, what are you wearing? Kidding. Promise.
Seriously? Better be…sexting’s not my style.
NP. Can you blame a guy for trying? ;)
She shrugged. I’d prefer to get to know you better. Hopes, dreams, that sort of thing.
Will you reciprocate?
Depends. What if you share, and then I decide we don’t mesh?
Impossible.
Besides, I already shared A LOT last night.
Fair enough. You get three questions.
Lexie laughed. What was he, a genie?
The apartment door swung open, and Sam headed straight to the fridge. “You’re up late.”
“Texting with Steel. What about you?”
“Have to crunch portfolio numbers and then draft my essay for Globalization and Emerging Markets.”
“Sounds positively scintillating.”
Sam yawned, then took a long pull on her Coke as she sank onto the foot of the sofa bed.
“You sure it’s smart to keep up this pace?
” Lexie asked. Her friend was seriously starting to have the look of a Bram Stoker character—her skin stark white except for the dark circles under her eyes.
“Nothing caffeine won’t cure.” Sam took another long pull. “Coffeemaker set?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks. And kudos to Aiden for buying it. Best. Housewarming. Gift. Ever.”
Her thoughts flew back to her Skype talk with her brother last night. Had to admit, she’d missed their friendship. Why had she let their falling out drag on for so long? Lexie frowned at the chip in her nail polish.
“I’ll recover after finals. No big deal. It’s you I’m concerned about.”
“I’m fine.” She pasted on a smile.
“Yeah, and I’m well rested.” Sam rolled bloodshot eyes. “Hey, it sucks that you got more than your share of raw deals when it came to falling for ass-hats disguised as decent humans pretty much most of your adult life, but this is a fresh start. You’re going to make it as a playwright. I feel it.”
“I knew there was a reason I let you have the bedroom,” Lexie joked.
Sam held up a palm. “I’m serious. You’re very talented, but that’s not the point. I also believe there’s a guy somewhere in this city who deserves your love.” She glanced at the boss’s phone. “Steel likes Ms. Swann. Focus your energy on a guy who likes you.”
Matthew popped into her mind, and a smile tugged at her lips until reason prevailed. “I’ll go one better. How about I use all my energy on writing.”
“Wasn’t it you that said the best writers live full, rich lives, and don’t just watch it from the sidelines?”
“I was making a point to my mom about moving from Battleton to New York.” She sniffed. “Nothing to do with dating.”
“I’m not telling you to date. All I’m saying is keep your eyes open.” Sam moved to the bedroom door. “You know what they say about having to kiss a few frogs before you find a prince.”
A few? I’ve kissed an entire pond full, still no royalty to be found. Lexie watched the door close behind her well-meaning but obviously delusional best friend before turning her attention to the phone beside her.
Three texts waited. The last one said it all.
Are you still there?
Text Me, Maybe Page 4