Kiss Me At Midnight

by Cassie Cross

My mouth drops open, aghast. I’ve never had a wholly pleasant living situation since I’ve moved here, and even though—logically—I know they exist, I haven’t met a person who has.

  “You grew up in this city, and you’ve never had a problem with loud neighbors?”

  “Nope.”

  “Lucky,” I reply, sliding my fingertips along the silky lining of Finn’s jacket. “If we ever get out of here, I want you to take me to some of these places. I’d like to see if any of them are up for rent.”

  “I’m not sure how much luck you’d have, but it’s the least I can do for you since you were so generous with your candy.”

  “If you’re not careful, I might just take you up on that offer.”

  “I don’t have anything else going on tonight.” I feel him shrug.

  I let out an accidental snort of a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  I’ve already said too much, and I really don’t want to embarrass myself (or him) by saying that there’s no way that someone who looks like him—and who has a personality like his, based on what I’ve experienced of it so far—wouldn’t have a date tonight. Especially not if we’re going to continue to be crammed in this elevator together. I might not be counting on seeing him again once we get out of here, but I still have to actually be around him in the meantime, and I don’t want to make things super awkward.

  “Because,” I reply, hoping he’ll let it drop.

  “And you expect me to believe you don’t have any plans for tonight?” He asks, like he can see right through me, even in all this darkness.

  “Uh, I think the sheer amount of snacks and candy I have on hand corroborates that.”

  “Yeah,” he says sarcastically. “I don’t believe that.”

  “Look, Finn-”

  “You’re gorgeous,” he interrupts. “And funny, and fun to be around. I’ve had a great time with you—stuck in an elevator of all places—and there isn’t anyone else in my life I can say that about. So…yeah, I don’t believe you were going to spend the evening by yourself surrounded by candy.”

  “And champagne,” I tease, just to get through the mild discomfort I’m feeling. “Don’t forget about the champagne.” I try very hard not to let myself focus on the fact that he thinks I’m gorgeous.

  “How are you single? I don’t believe you don’t get asked out, so-”

  “I get asked out.” The words come out a little argumentative, because I’m single by choice, not by circumstance. “But if I’m being honest here, I am the poster child for weird dates and unluckiness in love.”

  “So…no serious relationships?”

  “Never said that. There’s only been one that was serious.”

  “Is it too much if I…” Finn trails off for a moment. Then, “Is it okay if I ask what happened?”

  I take a minute to decide just how much I want to tell him. It’s easy, opening up to a stranger when you don’t have to see their reaction and judgment, but this is personal stuff. And as much as it feels like we’ve known each other for longer, I have to remind myself that’s not the case.

  “There’s not much to the story,” I lie. “I fell in love with him, I thought he was in love with me. Then he cheated, I found out about it, and that was that.”

  Finn somehow manages to find my hand in the dark, then wraps his fingers around mine. “That’s never that,” he says sympathetically.

  I don’t know if this is comfort or something more, but it makes me want to tell him pretty much everything to the point where I have to take my time and rein it in to keep myself from spilling my guts.

  “I’ve always been a little…closed off, “ I admit. “The thing I mentioned before about my parents not being too fond of my career choice?” Finn hums in acknowledgement. “Well, they never really understood the creative part of me, if that makes sense. I just looked at the world differently than they did, and we never got to the point where we could see things through each other’s eyes, I guess. I had big dreams—unconventional ones—and that scared them. It made them try to steer me to a safer path in life. One that kept me in Pittsburgh, and behind a desk, and would’ve led to all the things that they wanted me to have, you know? Not the things that I wanted.”

  Finn squeezes my hand, then laces his fingers through mine. “You have no idea how much I can relate,” he tells me.

  “They never would’ve really stopped me from following my dreams, they just…heavily encouraged me to dream of something else. So, I learned to stop telling them what I was thinking. It got to the point where anything that I wanted, or dreamed of, or hoped for, I kept to myself. And that carried over to other parts of my life, to other relationships. Until Jason.”

  “You let yourself open up to him, and he cheated on you?” Finn asks, perceptive enough to put the pieces of the puzzle I’ve given him together. He sounds angry on my behalf, which is more than a little charming.

  “Yes,” I say wearily. “He used my tendency to be a little closed-off against me, even though I wasn’t really. Not with him. But he knew it was something I was conscious of, and I guess once someone cheats on you they aren’t all that concerned with your feelings otherwise. It was a couple of years ago, shortly after I moved up here. I’ve dated since, just not very successfully.”

  “There are some freaks in this world,” Finn agrees, although I don’t know if he really believes that, or if he’s just going along with me.

  “I went out with this guy before Christmas; it was a pleasant evening, but not the best. He took me to a really nice restaurant, and once we were finished with our meal he asked for a to-go container. The waitress brought him one, and on our way out, he stopped by a couple of tables that hadn’t been cleared yet and dumped their leftovers into the container. For a second I let myself believe that he was maybe going to give them to a homeless person or something, but he said he didn’t like wasting food, and was going to eat it for lunch the next day.”

  “Jesus,” Finn replies, trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s just…”

  “Right? You can laugh, it’s totally weird! And no one at the restaurant said anything!”

  “Can I ask where you met this guy?”

  “It was a setup through a friend. A friend that I should probably stop talking to,” I reply, laughing. “What about you?”

  “I’ve had a few relationships, but no scandals, no tragedies,” he says.

  It’s then that I notice that we’re still holding hands, and he doesn’t seem to have any intention of letting go. I also notice that I don’t really want him to.

  “Bummer,” I tease. “I was counting on you to fill up the rest of our time in here with a story of your own.”

  “Sorry,” Finn replies, not sounding sorry in the least.

  “You dated a lot of people who didn’t fit?”

  “I wouldn’t say a lot,” he replies quickly. “But a few. It’s hard to find someone who fits. Someone you can talk to.”

  The statement is loaded enough as it is, but Finn tops that off by squeezing my hand. I don’t want to look into it too much, but-

  “Zoey,” he says softly, and I know what’s coming. I feel the crackling of electricity in the air, and the anticipation between us. I’m not sure I can let myself do this—fall for a guy who doesn’t live here and isn’t sure he’s gonna move back. The connection between us is so strong, and I already know I’m going to miss him if he doesn’t stick around once these doors open. If I kiss him, if this goes any further, it’s nothing but bad news for me and my heart.

  I quickly stand up, breaking the physical and emotional connection that was quickly getting overwhelming. I need some distance, to clear my head.

  But Finn stands behind me.

  “Zoey,” he repeats gently. The heat of his body warms my back, and I don’t think I have it in me to resist whatever is going to happen. I want it. “I’m not pressuring you into anything, but when we get out of here I’d like to spend more time with y
ou.”

  “You don’t even know me,” I say, trying to give him an out for some ridiculous reason. “You’ve seen me for all of two seconds before getting trapped in here with me.”

  “I think you’re gorgeous, but I don’t care what you look like. And I know enough about you to know that I want to know more.”

  “That’s a lot of knowing.” The truth is that I don’t want to be alone tonight. And more than that, I want to be with him. I want more than that too, but I’m so scared of what’s on the other side of midnight. The side where he’s a guy who lives in LA, a guy who’s already touched a little piece of my heart in the short time I’ve known him.

  It would be so easy for me to give him more.

  “Do you want to spend more time with me?”

  I turn toward him and nod, even though he can’t see me. “I do,” I breathe. “Very much. Yes.”

  Finn rests his his hands on my shoulders, then slides them along the column of my neck until his palms warm my cheeks. He cradles my face delicately, like he’s afraid I might break.

  I follow his lead, letting my fingertips glide along the prickly soft whiskers that pepper his jaw before I pull him close.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

  The kiss is sweet at first, his soft lips moving against mine. I grip his shirt between my fingers, pulling him as close as I can, and his hands slip down around my waist, pressing our bodies together as things get more than a little heated.

  I get so lost in the velvet of his tongue, the sweet taste of him, that it takes me longer than it should to realize that my world is literally being rocked, because…we’re moving.

  “Hang on to me,” Finn says, sounding only a little worried that we might be plummeting to our deaths. What a way to go though, right?

  The elevator stops more smoothly than I would’ve thought, and the lights flash back on without a warning, making us both groan and squint.

  I press my face into his chest, trying to escape the brightest light in the world when the doors jerk open revealing a swarm of photographers yelling Finn’s name, and pops of camera flashes blinding us.

  6

  Chapter Six

  I can’t even feel relief at finally being busted out of our elevator prison, because…what the hell?

  There are photographers in the lobby of this building.

  Shouting at Finn like they know who he is.

  Taking pictures of him like they’re going to be posted all over TMZ in an hour.

  None of it computes, it’s too much information for my brain to process at one time.

  Luckily Finn has the presence of mind to take my hand, his grip firm and desperate. “We need to get out of here,” he says quickly, moving close enough so that I’m the only one who can hear him. “Do you know a way out?”

  He looks a little panicked and anxious, probably the same way I was earlier when the elevator first got stuck. He helped me through that crisis, the very least I can do is help him out of this one.

  “Ready to run?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Okay, follow me.” I don’t have any experience whatsoever with paparazzi, but I’ve seen them in enough skirmishes throughout the city to know we have to be smart, and we have to be fast. So, I pause for a second, just to lull them into a sense of security, to let them think we think we’re caught.

  I count to three in my head, then make a break for it, taking off to the left. Finn follows, hot on my heels as we slam through the doors of a service hallway. I never thought my familiarity with this building would pay off so well, but all of a sudden I’m supremely grateful for the low-paying, gritty cologne ad I booked when I first moved here that gave me the chance to learn these halls. There’s a little-known entrance into the building next door if you know the right way to go, and thankfully I do.

  We just have to lose the scum following us first.

  That task proves easier and more entertaining than I anticipated, and I can’t help but laugh as we pull ahead of them, their shouts of his name dying out in the hallways behind us. We make enough tight turns through less-traveled corridors to eventually shake them, and I pull Finn into a dark, unused mailroom for a second just to be sure.

  Finn looks at me, smiling as the two of us catch our breath.

  “Wow, that was fun,” I tell him.

  “You probably wouldn’t think that if you had to deal with it as often as I do.”

  I feel bad for a second, enjoying something that so obviously bothers him. And knowing what I know of how ruthless the paparazzi can be, I totally understand it.

  “We’re going to talk about this,” I say, because the fact that Finn is someone who is well-known and worthy of being papped completely blows my mind, and I don’t want him to think that it’s something that’s not going to be addressed.

  “Yeah,” he replies solemnly. “We are.”

  First, we need to get as far away from this place as we possibly can.

  “Stay here.” I take a few steps toward the door before looking back at him. “I’m just gonna stick my head out and make sure the coast is clear before we go, okay?”

  Finn nods. I look right, then left, and there isn’t a scummy gossipmonger in sight, so I reach behind me and wiggle my fingers. Finn immediately takes my hand.

  “C’mon, lets go.”

  We walk through one long hallway, then take a turn that ends at a secured doorway that blessedly still has the same code it did the last time I had to use this route. Two more turns, then we step out into a blessedly empty and surprisingly clean back alley.

  “We made it,” I say, then turn and look at Finn.

  Really look at him, for the first time since he stepped in that elevator earlier this morning.

  Holy shit.

  I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him before.

  He’s not just Finn from the elevator, he’s Finn McCall: heartthrob, full-time movie star, part time model. I’ve only seen his face approximately a thousand times on movie posters scattered across the city. On the covers of my favorite magazines. In a larger-than-life ad for prestige underwear that towered over Times Square last fall.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  It’s him, the gorgeous movie star. But then…it’s him, the guy who gave me his coat, let me use him as a pillow, and who held my hand through one of the worst panic attacks of my life. The guy I opened up to. The guy I kissed.

  I find that the version of him that I know is much, much more appealing than the one everyone else sees, and that who he is doesn’t really matter: he already showed me what I needed to know in a dark elevator where neither of us could see.

  I reach up and cup his face, watching the cute dimple bloom on his stubbled cheek as he smiles at me. His eyes are so expressive and gorgeous that I regret spending the first few hours of our time together in a place where I wasn’t able to look at them.

  Green, and soft, and gorgeous.

  “Hi,” I say with a smile, pushing up on my tiptoes so I can give him a kiss. It’s just as sweet this time as it was the last, and when we part, we linger. “It’s good to finally see you.”

  Finn brushes his nose against mine, not quite ready for any kind of distance just yet. “About the paparazzi-”

  “I kinda figured that out,” I tell him, trying my damnedest to make light of the situation, because I don’t want him to think this is a big deal for me, that the attention and the paparazzi are anything more to me than nuisances we’ll need to figure out how to deal with if this becomes…something. “First time stuck in an elevator, first foot chase. It’s been a really exciting day for me.”

  Finn kisses me again. We’re both smiling so big that it’s a little awkward, but who cares?

  “It’s been a really exciting day for me, too,” he says.

  “Why are you talking like it’s over?”

  Another press of his lips against mine. “I don’t want it to ever be over.”

  Something in my
stomach flutters, anticipating working its way all the way out to my fingertips. “Are you afraid of heights?”

  He pulls away, his brow furrowed adorably as he looks at me, puzzled. “No,” he replies slowly. “Why?”

  “Because,” I say, threading our fingers together, “I want to show you something.”

  7

  Chapter Seven

  “Wow,” Finn says, looking out at the skyscrapers peppering the horizon as the sun slowly sets. “I’ve never seen the city look quite like this.”

  Finn’s leaning against the safety rail that lines the perimeter of the roof we’re on, and the way the fading sunlight hits him makes him look like he belongs on the cover of a magazine.

  More than he does usually, I guess.

  It’s still a little jarring to look at his face. Not that he isn’t amazing to look at—he totally is. It’s just that I’m so familiar with it from seeing it so often over the years as part of the Hollywood machine, but it belongs to this guy who I’m only just getting to know, and falling for minute by minute.

  That I can reach out and touch, and kiss this man that I used to see on posters and movie screens is so…surreal.

  There’s this calm, beatific smile on his face. I wish I had a camera with me so I could capture it. I reach into my pocket for my phone, which, I remember is gone.

  Shit. Well, it’s not like we’d have been able to go back and get it, given the paparazzi situation.

  Maybe the paparazzi situation makes him not-so-fond of cameras, so…yeah. I guess it’s good that this is a moment I can’t capture.

  “What are you thinking about?” Finn asks, reaching out and pulling me closer. He tucks me close to his body—my back pressed into his chest—and rests his hands against the railing.

  “Lots of stuff,” I tell him. “There was a whole train of thoughts.”

  His stubble pleasantly scratches against my temple as he presses a kiss there. “Let me hop on then. Tell me where that train was headed.”

  I can’t help but smile. It’s nice, this playful flirting while wrapped in the warmth of his arms. I’d almost forgotten what falling feels like.