“But you’re going to ignore what I said and do what you want anyway, right?”
“Call me a stubborn fool. What can I say?” I gave the desk a pat. “I’ll let you get back to work and catch you later. Gonna go read a little.”
I left Race to a growing line of customers and headed back to my chair, only to see a tall, thin man already occupying it. I’d recognize that blond hair anywhere.
“Harlan?”
His shoulders stiffened. The first thought I had when he turned around was that he’d lost weight. He looked terrible—skin pale and drawn, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep.
“You okay?”
“No. Not really.” His smile was too brittle to remain for long. “I had to leave the shelter, so I’m trying to figure out where to go tonight.”
Fuck it.I’m a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man. This guy couldn’t hurt me. I’d be damned if I let him sleep on the street.
“You’re gonna come home with me. You can sleep on my sofa until you figure things out.” My risk would be his reward. I was willing to chance it.
“You don’t have to. I can go to Grand Central or Penn Station and find a place there. At least it’s inside.”
His eyes met mine, and the despair I saw in their clouded depths was like a punch to my gut. No one was going to tell me I shouldn’t help this man.
“You got someplace. Mine. Now shut up and let’s go.”
He scowled. “I’m not one of your horses, cowboy. I don’t follow directions.”
I could give as good as I got. “How’s that been working out for you? I’m thinkin’ not so good from where I’m lookin’.” I folded my arms and glared at him. “Now, are you comin’?”
Still scowling, and looking mighty cute even as skinny as he was, Harlan followed me out the door. I ignored Race’s frown. All my life I’d lived by everyone’s rules, doing what I’d been told, pretending to be happy until I could’ve died from the pain. I was done waiting for my happiness. I came to New York to be able to live as me, for me. It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t perfect, but I had a roof over my head, some of the best friends ever, and enough money to spend.
Matching my stride, Harlan walked beside me, silent as a ghost. I don’t know why he’d gotten under my skin like he did. From the start he’d been skittish and prickly, but that only made me want to try harder. And now? My heart raced, knowing he’d be in my home. Alone with me. Finally, I was going to learn who this man was and why he was living on the streets. ’Cause as sure as I was alive, I had a feeling he had one hell of a story.
Chapter Two
HARLAN
Taxis and Uberspassed us on the street, and I wondered at the people inside the cars and their destinations. Did they know how precarious their life was? That in an instant, because of poor decisions, everything they knew could be snatched away? I kept my head down and followed Cort. Despite my miserable circumstances, I bit back a smile.
“Is Cort your real name?”
Without breaking his stride, he cut his gaze to me. “Yeah, why?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a real cowboy before. The name sounds like a stereotype.”
“It was my granddaddy’s name. It’s short for Cortland.” He turned the corner and stopped in front of a dingy eight-story building. “This is me.”
Before my world blew apart, I’d never known places like this existed in Manhattan. My life had revolved in a golden circle with me at its center. I’d had a doorman, housekeepers, drivers, and private chefs at my disposal, my nights spent drinking in the trendiest bars and clubs in the city. I had been on an endless merry-go-round of privilege without a care in the world.
Now, people stepped aside when they approached me in the street. They looked past me even as they looked at me. I’d become one ofthem. There but invisible.
I said nothing as I passed by Cort holding the door open for me, and I waited in the tiny vestibule for him to unlock the second door. Buildings like this didn’t have doormen. They had signs warning tenants not to hold the door open for strangers or notices from the landlord about mailboxes that had been broken into. My throat closed in on me.
“This way.” Cort pointed down the drab hall. Various food smells mingled in the air, making me light-headed with hunger. “I’m on the first floor. Gotta have bars in the window, which I hate, but the rent was cheaper, so I took it. You know how it is.” He opened the door and tipped his head. “Go on in.”
“Yeah,” I said. But I didn’t. I didn’t know any of it.
The apartment wasn’t as small as I’d imagined, but it had been partitioned off from a much larger unit. There was a door on the sidewall with bars across it that obviously led to the next apartment.
“Sit on down on the sofa, and take a load off. That’s where you’ll be sleepin’ tonight.” As he spoke he entered his tiny kitchen, which wasn’t really more than a small stove, sink, and a refrigerator, with a few cabinets up on the wall. “You hungry? I can make some sandwiches.”
