I wave my hands around dramatically. “I don’t know. You’re familiar here helping yourself to thousand-dollar bottles of champagne. You know the ways through secret freaking passageways. Maybe your alter ego is this Mason guy.”
“Secret passageways?” He lifts a sarcastic brow, and I see he’s trying to hide his laughter. “We went through a set of doors,” he deadpans.
I widen my eyes. “Well, you’re not denying it.”
He places our glasses down on the table, grabs me by the waist, and pulls me into his chest.
“Come here, you crazy lady,” he says, then smashes his lips to mine. “God, you’re hot when you’re all sassy. I told you before I used my brother’s hotel in the past”
“Harrison,” I growl, swatting at his chest. “I don’t want to hear about that.”
He smirks. “When I said Mason Cunningham, it didn’t ring a bell for you?”
I think…and think some more. “Yeah. No clue.”
“I can’t wait to tell him that one. Mason Cunningham is a star quarterback. He won two Super Bowls in a row.”
“Wait.” I think. “The guy who was dating Marisol Herrera, the supermodel?”
Harrison throws his head back, laughing so loud it echoes through the night sky.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m just loving that you have no idea who he is and only know him because of his ex.”
“Ugh yeah, have you seen his ex? Actually, don’t answer that.” He bites his lips and waggles his brows. “What?”
“Nothing. I find it amusing when you call me jealous…pot meet kettle.”
“Oh, shush. Now, how do you know Mason?”
Before he answers, he pulls me over to the balcony to take in the view and hands me my glass. “Cheers, baby. Happy Fourth of July.”
“Cheers—” Then it dawns on me. “We’re going to be able to see the fireworks from here, aren’t we? That’s why we’re here?” I ask excitedly.
He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, then stands back up and fixes my hair behind my ear. “We are, but not from here. Mason has a huge rooftop that you’ll see after this drink.” He sips his champagne and continues. “Mason is more Nate and Leo’s friend since he’s their age, but we’re all close, it’s the kind of thing where their friends are my friends. He’s originally from Georgia, but they met at summer camp when they were younger.”
“Ah, those rich kid camps where you slept there all summer and went horseback riding and took classes like pottery?” I ask playfully.
When I first started seeing Harrison, I was embarrassed to bring up our clear differences. But now, it’s fun to tease him.
“Yes. Exactly that. However, Mason did not grow up privileged. He had gotten a scholarship to go because they have a well-known sports center.”
“Huh, I wish I could picture him. I’m going to google him when I get home.” The second I say it, the fire in Harrison’s eyes burns wildly. I put my hands up in defense. “Not like that, crazy. So that I can put a face to the name.”
“Let’s not.”
Hmm…if he’s that worked up, that means this Mason guy is hot, hot.
His phone pings, and he picks it up quickly. “Claud or the Yankee score this time.”
“Smartass.” He sniggers. “No. But, good guess.” He places my glass down, then his, and interlocks our fingers together. “This way, baby. Time for a surprise.”
A surprise?
He walks back into the penthouse and up the smaller staircase off to the side that he was staring at before.
We get to the top, and he opens two large glass doors that lead us to a ginormous rooftop overlooking the same view of the East River. We haven’t even stepped toward the ledge, and I can already see why up here is better. You have a full view of the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges. I bet if I walked around the side, I might be able to see the Statue of Liberty, too.
