We pay our check—well,Leopays our check; it’s my birthday, after all. And while he’s a wealthy, single guy, struggling would be a polite way to describe my current situation. Then we grab a cab straight to the park.
Thirty minutes later, we’re tipsy, the city lights blurring through the window as we pass my bottle back and forth like teenagers breaking curfew. By the time we settle onto the grass near the front row at the park, my cheeks are warm from both the alcohol and the laughter.
The night air is cool and soft, brushing against my skin, carrying the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and that faint metallic tang of New York asphalt after dark. It’s spring, so there’s a crisp bite to the air that makes everything feel alive.
The lawn is packed tonight. There are blankets layered edge to edge, couples curled up together, groups of friends sharing snacks under string lights. It’s the kind of crowd that makes this city feel small, almost intimate in a world that’s so impersonal.
The movie starts, the screen flickering with some action-packed blur of explosions and chase scenes, but Leo and I barely pay attention. We’re whispering nonsense, trading inside jokes and sidelong glances until we’re shaking with laughter, trying (and failing) to stifle it.
A few people turn to glare, one woman even gives us the death stare, but it only makes us laugh harder. It’s the lightest and happiest I’ve felt in months. I need to do this more often.
“Look,” he loudly whispers, showing me his phone. It’s a text message from his new boyfriend Christopher, asking him to meet up at a bar that’s just around the corner. “Do you want to skip the rest of this and meet up with him? He can’t wait to meet you.”
“And miss out on Vanessa Mayers?” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Absolutely not.”
He snickers.
“But you go ahead. I’ll meet him in the morning when I finally wake up from this hangover.” I shrug.
“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “I’m not leaving you on your birthday.”
“This has been a dream of mine to see a movie here. I’m seriously good. You made it happen. Go hang out with your new boy and I’ll meet you back at your apartment in a couple of hours.”
He hesitates. “Come with me.”
“No. Now go!” I shout, shoving him gently with a smile. “To be honest, you were a distraction anyway. Now I can actually watch the movie.”
“Rhiannon.”
I hold out my hand, and after a moment of dramatic hesitation, he drops his phone into my palm like I’m the problem here. I type a quick message to Chris, letting him know that Leo’s on his way to meet up, then hand the phone back with a smug little smile.
“We’ve been together since ten o’clock this morning. Honestly, I’m starting to get tired of you. You’reso obsessed with me.”
He snorts. “Fine. Okay. I’ll text my doorman so that he’ll let you in when you get there. You have a key to my place, right?”
“Of course.” I smile because I’m giddy for my friend. He looks the happiest that he’s been in a long time, and I know that it’s taken him a lot to trust again after his last partner’s betrayals.
He gives me a quick hug before heading out, weaving through the sea of blankets and lawn chairs until he disappears somewhere in the crowd.
The moment he’s gone, I take another discreet swig from the whiskey bottle that I snuck in, the burn warming my chest. My stomach growls, loudly enough that the couple next to me glances over, and I remember I haven’t eaten anything since those sad little appetizers we split before the movie at the bar.
I check my phone. Nine o’clock already. No wonder I feel lightheaded.
With a sigh, I get to my feet, fold up our blankets then step carefully over people and half-empty wine bottles as I make my way toward the food vendors parked on the outskirts that I spotted earlier. I’m mildly annoyed about losing my spot near the front, but too hungry to care.
By the time I reach the edge of the lawn, the smell of grilled onions and fried potatoes practically makes my knees weak. I order two hot dogs and a side of loaded fries, leaning against the counter while they cook.
I’m half watching the glowing movie screen through the trees, half scrolling through my phone as a distraction, when a low, warm voice comes from just behind me, close enough that I feel it before I even hear it.
“Excuse me, miss. Are you in line?”
My eyes flick upward, drawn by the baritone of his voice and the way he sounds like one of my romance book narrators.
Holy hell.
This guy’s tall, with chestnut-brown hair that catches the movie screen lights and is styled like he’s just stepped out of a high-end barbershop. Short on the sides, a bit longer on the top. His jawis square and strong, with only the slightest bit of stubble like he meant to shave it completely, but the hair just grew back too fast.
“Uh, yes, I am,” I say, taking in the rest of him.
