I reply to a couple of emails, then shoot into the restrooms to check I don’t look as tired as I feel. I need at least another pound of concealer under my eyes, I’m sure.
Butterflies dance in my stomach while I take the elevator down to the lobby. I slide on my sunglasses as I take the revolving door out into the sunshine. Outside, I’m faced with a smirking Hunter, his arms folded, waiting for me opposite the door. He looks impossibly handsome in the midday sun, his skin more golden than usual, his smile wider. Did I do that to him? Or maybe I just see him differently now.
“Hey,” he says, lifting his chin.
“Hey,” I reply, trying to hold back a smile.
He takes a step toward me, slips his hands around my waist, and kisses me on the lips.
“Hi,” I say as he pulls back. The manlaughs, giving sound to the same joy I feel in my own heart.
“Let’s go eat. I think we burned off enough calories to order one of everything each.”
My cheeks heat at his reference—in public!—to our marathon sex session last night. I don’t know why. We’re in New York City. No one cares what I did last night, and I’m sure no one can hear us over the beep of horns, the shout of street vendors, and everyone’s earbuds.
He scoops up my hand, and I glance across at him as if to say,Are you actually holding my hand? He grins back, silently affirming,Hell yeah, I am. What you gonna do about it?
I laugh and so does he, and we head to Stranger than Fiction.
Once we’re in line, I say, “Probably best to text me at work or message on my personal email.”
“What? And have you accuse me of playingCandy Crush Sagaall day? No way. Lucy Jones, you don’t look at your phone during working hours. If I want to have lunch with you, how would I ever do that?”
I shake my head but can’t wipe the grin off my face.
“What are you ordering?” I ask.
“One of everything,” he answers. “I told you.”
“You are not. There’s no way.”
“Are youdaringme?” he asks.
“Absolutely not. If I was going to dare you to do something, it wouldn’t be to overorder at a deli. It would be something far more ... exciting.”
He raises his eyebrows like only the filthiest thoughts are running through his brain.
“And it wouldn’t involve any nakedness,” I add, narrowing my eyes.
He brings our hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on my knuckles. It’s such a small gesture, but it feels significant. Like all the push and pull between us from before has been forgotten and we’re two entirely different people with each other now.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out with my free hand.
“It’s just from Katherine,” I say. “She’s finished at the wedding place, and they’re heading back to Boston.”
Hunter sighs. “Do you think that’s the end of the endless meetings and wedding decisions? It’s so time consuming.”
“I doubt it’s the end of it,” I reply. “But the wedding is only weeks away. Then it will be over.”
“Then it’s the honeymoon. Then the move. Then she’ll get pregnant.”
“That’s life.”
“Right,” Hunter says. His mood has shifted. He’s developed edges that weren’t there a few minutes ago.
We get to front of the line. Hunter insists on ordering my sandwich and paying, and we grab a table in the little plaza in front of the store.
He very sweetly unpacks my To Grill a Mockingbird chicken club and opens my can of seltzer.
