“It’s almost 2:00 a.m. in New York City; I can’t let you just walk home in the dark by yourself.”
“Good thing this is the city of lights and I do this almost every night,” I quipped back. “You should worry more about the prince and make sure he gets back to the hotel safely.”
“He has security from one of the most highly reputable firms with him. He will be fine. My dad taught me to always walk a lady home.” His eyes flashed with sadness before reverting to their impassive stare.
“Then it’s settled. Knox will walk Birdie home. Text me when you get there.” Sam smiled a bit too cheerily. “Make good choices, love you!” She wiggled her fingers at me as she said our customary goodbye.
“Make good choices. Love you,” I replied dryly.
While Knox said his goodbyes to Prince Oliver, Tej, and Chauncey, I cleared the table of the beer bottles and trash andtook it to the back. I grabbed my stuff out of my locker and made sure my taser was in my pocket. When I came out, everyone was gone, and Knox was sitting at the table by himself.
“I’m just going to wipe these tables down and then we can get going.”
He gave me the solemn nod I was coming to think of as his signature response.What a grump, I thought.
We left Americana and headed east toward my apartment. The winter air was crisp, and, despite the late hour, there were plenty of people out and about. It was true what they said: This city never slept. At this time of night, it was people heading home from the bars and clubs. There were two girls walking arm in arm in front of us with their five-inch heels in their hands. One of them darted into an alley and I heard her friend yell at her to not pee in the middle of the alleyway—she at least needed to squat down behind the dumpster.
“God, I do not miss being twenty-one and peeing in the street,” I laughed to myself.
“You’ve peed in the street?” Knox asked from beside me, giving me an incredulous look.
It shook me to hear him talk. I had almost forgotten he was walking next to me—almost. His towering height was pretty hard to ignore.
“Sure have.” I smiled at him. I honestly didn’t care what he thought about me anymore. I had tried my damnedest all night to include him in our conversations and connect with him, but he was a tough nut to crack.
We walked in silence for a few more blocks, passing the party goers that littered the sidewalks. I tossed a ten-dollar bill into the hat of a homeless man who sat on the corner as we crossed the street.
“Do you like shawarma?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t hadmore than a few bites of fries since finishing my shift. I needed something to soak up the beer flowing through my system. One of my favorite things about New York: it didn’t matter what time it was, you could always find something to eat and had a full array of food choices at your disposal.
He looked me over and said, “Sure. But if I had to pick, I’d go with a gyro.”
Jesus, take the wheel, here we go again.
“Okay. Well, there is this amazing shawarma place on the corner of my street. For walking me home, I’ll buy you one.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m good.”
“Oh, come on. Are you one of those guys who doesn’t eat after a certain hour to keep your body in tip-top shape?”
He rolled his beautiful blue eyes at me.
“Come on, let me buy you food.”
We walked a few more blocks until we got to Khallas, my favorite corner shop that always had beautiful Arabic music blaring from the speakers and people shuffling in and out regardless of the hour. As soon as we walked through the door, the smell of cardamom, cumin, turmeric, and roasting meats filled my nose. I ordered us two shawarma pitas to go and said goodbye to my favorite late-night clerk, Hamza, before continuing the walk to my apartment.
“How do you like it?” I asked Knox.
“Not bad. But I prefer tzatziki sauce over this tahini.”
“Sir, we are not doing this again.” I chuckled. Prince Oliver wasn’t wrong; this man loved to have any type of debate.
“I’m just saying, it’s so refreshing. It’s the superior sauce.”
“I don’t know, you could have fooled me about not liking it since you have it running down your shirt.” I pointed to the sauce dripping down the red-and-black flannel. He looked to where I gestured and swore under hisbreath.
“Lucky for you, this is my apartment right here. You can come up and clean it off.”
“Thanks,” he said in that smooth monotone.
