Commitments have never been my thing. Never wanted to owe anyone anything. First, my focus was on college and football, with any free time devoted to my friends. Now, my pro career is my top priority. Not that Vixen is looking for a commitment. Actually, this spontaneous night in New York is exactly what I look for in a woman. And yet I’m already wondering what will happen at the end of this night. What will happen tomorrow …
I should walk away—catch a cab, get back to the hotel, and keep the night simple before I have to head back to NewOrleans tomorrow. But there’s something about this girl. About this night. The spark in her eyes, the way she laughs and almost dares me with her experiences. I’m not going anywhere.
I move over to the sales associate, who is looking at me like she wouldn’t mind seeing me naked.
“Is this all for you today, sir?” she asks.
I pull out my wallet and hand her my black American Express card. “This is all. Thanks.”
“Thank you for shopping with us, Mr. Pitz. Come back and see us soon.” When she hands me my bag, her finger grazes the top of my hand.
This woman is pretty, but nothing compared to my angel in red, who is probably waiting for me in the lobby.
I nod and smile politely, then turn and rush back to meet my Vixen.
As I turn the corner, I spot her. My Vixen. She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and it’s a privilege to spend this time with her. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky? This gorgeous stranger rescued me from the most boring wedding I’ve ever been to and is taking me around her city during one of the most special times of the year. I’m slightly worried this is a dream.
She’s removed one of her gloves so that she can take the tag off of the red earmuffs in her hand. There’s a black-and-red plaid scarf draped over her arm too. There’s a bag sitting by her feet, which I’m guessing holds socks because it’s about the same size as my bag, which has my socks and gloves.
“Hey, did you get what you needed?” She nods toward the bag in my hand.
“Yep, I’m ready.” I hold out my arm, gesturing for her to lead the way.
Once she puts the earmuffs on her head, which look abso-fucking-lutely adorable, she winds the scarf around her neck.“We’d better get out of here, or they might just lock us in for the night.”
I shudder. “That would be my worst nightmare. Let’s go.”
“You don’t like the idea of that, huh?” She giggles.
“Um, no thank you. What if the mannequins come alive? Have you ever seen that movie? My mom used to put it on sometimes when I was little. Freaked me out.”
“I can’t say that I have seen that one. You’re too funny.” She pushes the door open, and we walk back out into the chilly night air. It stopped snowing a while ago, but it’s still freezing.
“So, how do we get to the rink?” I ask her.
“Well, it’s a bit of a walk, and time is ticking, so we’ll just grab one of these rickshaws to Wollman Rink.”
She leads us over to a rickshaw that looks like Christmas literally threw up on it. “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey is blasting from the small speaker the driver has attached to the back of his seat, facing the bench seat.
“Are you taking rides?” she asks the driver.
“Yes, I am. Where you headin’?” he asks her in a thick New York accent.
“Can you take us to Wollman Rink?” She steps onto the platform and sits on the bench seat.
“Yep, that’ll be twenty.” He turns and looks at me. “You gettin’ in or what?”
“Right. Yes. Getting in.” I hesitate, eyeing the wheels like they’re about to file a complaint with OSHA. The frame creaks when I shift my weight forward. I mean, sure, I’m fit. I’m an NFL quarterback. But I’m also six foot three and two hundred fifteen pounds of solid muscle. Not exactly rickshaw material.
Still, I climb in—gingerly—half expecting the whole Christmas cart to collapse under me.
“Come on, Blitzen. Don’t be scared.” She waves her hand toward herself, motioning me to sit with her.
“I’m not scared as much as I don’t want the tires to pop when I get in.” I chuckle, but lift myself up and into the seat next to her.
“Buddy, this ain’t nothing. You in?” The driver turns his head to the side, waiting for my answer.
“Yep, ready.” Vixen places her hand on top of mine and curls her fingers under mine.
