“Maybe. Or maybe they’re texting someone they love to tell them they miss them, or they’re checking their dating app to see if anyone has connected with them, or they’re putting on their favorite song to cheer themselves up after something bad has happened…” I trail off, and when Michael doesn’t say anything, I look down at my coffee with a grimace.
Way to get carried away, Alex.
But Michael angles his body towards mine. “Maybe,” he murmurs. There’s a warmth in his eyes, a tiny line between his brows as he contemplates me, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“I know it’s silly,” I mumble. “But—”
“It’s not.”
I feel his gaze on me while I sip my coffee, and when I finally glance back at him, he huffs a laugh, looking down at his cup with a funny little smile. My heart stumbles and I force myself to look away before I put any more scores in my mental “date” column.
I focus back on the beautiful architecture around us, trying to ignore Michael’s presence right beside me, trying to pretend I’m not desperately wishing he would lean over and kiss me under the ceiling of stars.
18
Well, Times Square was just as chaotic and crazy as it was the first time I attempted to visit. But somehow, with Michael there, I felt fine. Mostly it was just crowded with tourists and people peddling souvenirs, but it was fun to see the lights and everything.
And Michael was even cool with getting a big pretzel from one of those street vendors, which surprised me. He’s a real New Yorker and I thought he might turn his nose up at something so cliché, but when I said I was going to get one, he grinned and bought one for himself, too.
The highlight, so far, has to be Top of the Rock. And I can see why he chose it over the Empire State Building. Because when you go up Top of the Rock, you get to see the whole skyline,includingthe Empire State Building.
And it’s breathtaking.
I knew there was a reason I chose New York, but while I was busy running around the West Village I’d let myself forget about the rest of the place. This city, though, it’s something else. It’s alive, it’s buzzing with life and possibility. God, I know it’s so cheesy, but it does feel like the place where dreams can come true.
By the early afternoon we’re down at Rockefeller Plaza, watching the ice-skaters on the rink below. Across the rink stands a huge Christmas tree, lit from head to toe in a rainbow of sparkling lights, above the famous gold statue. The whole place feels like something out of a film, but I find myself thinking I’m not going to get the happy ending I’ve always wanted. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. Just because I’ve realized happily ever afters are only for romance novels, doesn’t mean a tiny part of me isn’t still wishing for it.
I sneak a glance at Michael. He’s leaning on the railing watching the skaters below, his eyes creased at the corners in that little smile of his. I know I’ve been pretty obsessed with his looks since I first laid eyes on him, but with every passing moment I’m learning more and more about the kind of man that he is, and I can’t help but like him—therealhim, underneath his handsome exterior. It’s kind of freaking me out. He’s so oblivious to my feelings, even though I’m quite sure they’re all over my face every time I look at him.
Either that or he’s just politely ignoring them. Perhaps that’s closer to the truth.
He turns to me now, catching me staring. The crinkles around his eyes deepen and I turn away as heat spreads across my neck.
Fuck, I’m just mooning over him like a schoolgirl with a crush on a teacher or something. This isexactlywhat I was trying to avoid—slipping into fantasies and daydreams. All it takes is a few hours in the company of a hot guy and I turn right back into my old self. I spent all morning pretending we were on a date, for Christ’s sake. What is wrong with me?
“You all good?” Michael asks, bumping his shoulder against mine. His breath comes out in a white cloud in front of us.
I force a bright smile. “Of course.” I pull my phone out and take a few pictures of the ice rink. When I turn the phone around for a selfie, he reaches for it. I try my best to look normal as he takes my picture, but I’m not sure I quite pull it off.
Then he stands beside me, switching to the front camera and leaning close. And there on the screen of my phone is the pair of us, side-by-side, in front of the ice rink. Michael grins into the camera, and I watch as my own face lights up, gazing at the two of us together. We’d make a cute couple. Before I can stop myself, I’m imagining what it might be like if he was my boyfriend, taking a picture of us for a holiday card or a photo frame to put on the mantelpiece.
He smiles as he hands the phone back. “Send me those.”
“Oh. Sure.” I flick through the pictures and he leans over my shoulder, looking too. My breathing goes shallow with him so close, with his warmth pressing against my back. It takes all my strength to keep my eyes on my phone—to not turn around and slip my arms inside his coat and snuggle into the heat of him.
“That one.” He points to one of the selfies of the two of us. Then he reaches over and flicks back through the photos until we get to the ones he took of me. And I definitely donotlook normal—I look manic. But Michael adds, “And that one.”
Confusion swirls through me as I forward both the pictures. I don’t know what he wants with a picture of me posing like an idiot. Maybe he thinks it’s funny, like all the other things about me he finds so amusing.
I pocket my phone and lean forward on the railing, gazing across the rink. “The tree is beautiful. It must look amazing at night.”
“Yeah.” Michael leans back beside me. “It’s stunning in the dark.”
I feel myself wilt a little. I’d love to see it, but I’m not sure I’ll come back uptown alone at night just for that.
My gaze lands on the skaters below and I turn to Michael hopefully. I might not get to see the tree sparkle in the dark, but there’s something else we could do.
“You want to skate?”
