—
A delivery truck abandoning its parking spot saves us from an overpriced garage, but it doesn’t save me from Ro’s continued insistence that he could’ve fit back in that first spot.
Today’s my first time back in the city since coming home though, and we couldn’t have chosen a better or more cloudless day for it. Not even Ro’s overly descriptive parking simulations can ruin it for me.
Ro hasn’t told me where we’re eating yet but when he joins me on the sidewalk, he extends an arm to show me the way. “You think you’d ever move out here?”
“If I could figure out how to do it without seven roommates and a Top Ramen food allowance,” I decide. “You remember me talking about my friend Liv? She’s in Tribeca. We used to always talk about me taking her roommate’s spot after graduation, but I get the feeling she might be doing her own thing now. And I don’t know if I wanna be this far from Zola and the baby anyway.”
“You’d be an hour away,” he says, but he corrects himself when I raise my brows. “Fine, but two max. And it’s New York. You gotta try it once. What’s that thing they say about living here? Come before you get too soft, leave before you get too hard.”
He nudges my hip with his own as he says it. It’s gentle, playful, but at the vaguely sexual nature of his words, I go a little wobbly, like it’s my first time on legs.
I steal a glance at Ro as I regain my balance, and though his eyes are straight ahead, they’re sparkling again. Mischievous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Like he’s doing it on purpose.
Ro slows at a building with a highly Instagrammable floral facade. “This is it,” he says, as the cute hostess emerges.
The eagerness of her friendly greeting shifts the air betweenRo and me, and whatever challenge had been in his eyes a moment ago is gone with the breeze.
We’re led to what’s arguably the best table in the patio’s corner, and my touristyINYglow returns. I could melt into the warmth of this afternoon in this city. But when my rose-colored gaze finally lands on the menu before me, I pale a little.
“The Raw Bar,” I read in horror. “Okay, there’s a chance I overstated just how adventurous I am with my food.”
“Aw, come on. My boy Paul says this place is the new Catch. I bet they’ll even throw something on the grill for ya. If you ask nice.”
Ro wastes no time selecting a tray of assorted local oysters and has the audacity toboowhen I order a fully cooked shrimp linguine.
“What about you?” I ask, once we’re alone with our cocktails and each other. “What’s stopping you from moving out here?”
He brings his margarita to his lips, licking the salt from its rim. “I actually have a spot uptown,” he says way too casually. “I’m subletting it right now.”
“How did I not know that?”
He winks and manages, somehow, to not look like a pervert. “I’m full of surprises, E.”
“Is this when we finally talk about you having a secret company?”
I hadn’t meant for it to come out like an accusation, but here we are.
He narrows his eyes at me. “A secret company?”
“Okay, not secret. But the one you failed to mention.”
Ro’s face is unreadable as he studies mine. I’d wanted to bring this up a million times but hoped it would happen naturally. Casually. But there’s nothing casual about my tone. Ro’s not alone in trying to figure out why that is.
“It just hadn’t come up yet. I didn’t realize you’d look me up so quick.”
“Technically Zola looked you up.”
Ro’s eyebrow quirks at something he hears in my tone. “You said you were cool with me helping her out. Is it weird that I’m working with your sister?”
Yes,I think. But admitting that out loud would make me the worst sister ever—and helping Zola set up her future should be my focus. Not staking a claim on a guy I have no rights to. A guy I have no intention of fucking things up with by…well, fucking him.
“Of course not,” I promise instead. “I was just surprised. We’d talked about your art—”
Ro shakes his head. “This isn’t art. It’s business. And it’s not even one I spend much of my time on lately.”
My silence invites him to say more, the way his so often has for me.
