“The roof?” I shoot a quick look to Kennedy and Brylee. What the hell could be happening on a rooftop? Could Warren be threatening a swan dive off a twenty-four story office building? Not likely. Plus, I doubt my father would be grinning like a goof at the thought, also we’re lacking an entire emergency response squad, so there’s that. Whatever the hell it is, this isn’t going to end well. Rooftops and breakups never go hand in hand.
“Promise me something.” Daddy pulls me in by the shoulders. “You’ll have the time of your life tonight?”
“Oh, I will,” I assert. Just as soon as I get back home and finish off the evening with Ace. Although technically I plan on gifting Ace the time of his life. In about an hour, I hope to have no memory of this rooftop experience. Besides, I suddenly have a severe craving for heady kisses and chocolate, and they both involve Ace.
The doors whoosh open, and an obnoxious pelting sound thumps through my skull.
Dad escorts us out, and to my fucking horror, I spot Warren standing fifty feet in front of a helicopter that looks as if it’s ready to whisk us away at a moment’s notice.
“Oh, no.” I grip onto the nearest hand, which happens to belong to Kennedy.
“Oh,yes!” My father proudly chides.
Warren comes over in his neat three-piece suit, his hair slicked back with a heavy polish. His strong, tangy cologne permeates the area before he does. He pulls me into a hard embrace and lands a wet, sloppy kiss on the side of my cheek.
“You ready to be whisked away on a magical mystery date?” He barks out a laugh as if it wasn’t a question at all.
Dad slaps him on the back and offers me a quick hug.
“Beverly and I have taken care of everything. I one hundred percent approve of this outing.” He clamps his hand over mine. I wonder if he would have approved of Ace and the outing we had last night—any outing with Ace for that matter. “Go and have the time of your life. Make some great memories.” He gives a quick wink to Warren before leading Kennedy and Brylee back toward the elevator.
No, no, no!
Brylee turns and gives a solemn wave. Kennedy glances back and rolls her eyes.
Just crap. This is worse than I could have imagined. It was going to be difficult enough having to tell him that we should see other people, as in never see one another again, while I thought Kennedy was going to be waiting for me out in the hall. I sort of envisioned Kennedy and Brylee taking me out for margaritas after because that’s what girls do once they sever ties to a longtime tagalong that the world thinks she’s dating—get shitfaced with tequila. Okay, so maybe we were dating a little bit.
“Let’s get moving.” Warren pulls me all the way to the helicopter, and before I know it, I’m buckling up and throwing on a pair of headphones so I can communicate with both the pilot and my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.
Perfect. In the event I was afraid I wouldn’t have an audience when I told Warren I didn’t love him, the universe has now solved that problem, too.
We rise through the sky and wobble our way over Collingsworth. I pretend to marvel at how miniaturized everything looks when all I really want to do is shove Warren and his goofy grin out the window. Although, I suppose if it were Ace next to me, I’d be venerating his efforts for gifting me with a luxury date of aerial proportions, so I cut Warren some slack in that department.
And a break up in the sky? Really? Maybe I’ll be the one parachuting to earth without the proper equipment to get me there safely. Warren could easily plead insanity, and God knows he’s got the backing of a topnotch legal team—hell, my own father might even vouch for him. Obviously, I’ll have to wait until we land.
We’re probably just going to take a quick tour of the city. Dad took our family and the McCarthy’s on one of these a few years back, and I remember thinking it went by pretty quick. One minute we were in the air, and the next thing I knew, we were landing, just like that. Only then we had a totally annoying couple in the back that kept making out, and Beverly offered to pay both Kennedy and me a hundred bucks each if we would stop turning around. Of course, Ken didn’t obey the almighty dollar, but I managed to parlay a nice pair of Ray Ban sunglasses out of the deal. I glance back in the event I missed the fact there’s a pair of lip-locking passengers taking the trip with us and jump when I spot my leopard print carry on nestled next to a duffle bag.
Holy. Shit.
“We’re just taking a quick tour of the city right?” I bleat into the mini mike that hovers around my lips like a bee.
“That and then some. Good deal, right?” Warren’s arm slithers around my waist and despite his effort to feel me up, I sigh with relief. I mean we’ve already seen half of Collingsworth in the time we’ve been in the air. If we race up the mountain, I could still squeeze in a nice picnic under the stars with Ace over Pleasure Point. Last night was the stuff that dreams are made of. I had no idea you could have a romantic time without sex being the main objective. It’s like being with Ace has already taught me so many things about love, and, yet, we’ve still got miles of great memories to make up ahead. I sigh dreamily, and Warren rewards me with an unwanted kiss.
Gah!
I pull back as a nervous smile twitches on my lips. I forgot how freely Warren doles out the kisses. In truth, I haven’t kissed him since we’ve come back this summer, and now that some time has passed, it feels a little foreign, more than a little intrusive. And why do I suddenly feel like I’m being held against my will?
The helicopter picks up speed, and we rise even higher until the city fades into a sea of haze. I bet we’re getting ready to land on top of some posh restaurant, and then I’ll fake being sick so we can put the kibosh on this quasi-kidnapping.
A shoreline crops up on our right, which indicates that both Collingsworth and Loveless are well behind us—hell, the entire state of Connecticut is turning into a tiny speck.
“What city exactly is it that we’re touring?” Why do I get the sick feeling I could have easily replaced city for country?
Warren slips his well-manicured hand over my knee before sinking it between my legs.
“We’re going to New York for the weekend, baby! Just you and me.” He offers a toothy grin, his tan skin is just this side of orange, and suddenly I want to vomit on his pricy Dolce and Gabbana patent leather shoes.
I carefully return his hand to his lap, but it springs back to my knee.
