“What are you doing? I said it’s too late.”
I ignore him and use his shoulder to balance myself while switching my shoes. Then, pack my heels away.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“Jules—”
“Please, Harrison,” I beg. “I want to walk with you.” He stares at me. “Please. Call Robert and tell him.”
He picks up his phone, and I bounce on the spot.
“I’m sorry, Robert, Juliette is having some sort of brain aneurysm today, so we will indeed be walking.”
He stares at me as he talks, and I twist my lips to hide my smile.
Robert chuckles. “No problem.”
“Actually. Are you close by?”
“About to turn down her street.”
“Perfect, I’m going to drop off her bags in the car so we don’t have to carry them around.”
After doing that, Harrison takes my hand in his, interlocking our fingers.
“Come on, you pain in my ass.”
I don’t want to bring it up again, but I need to say something.
“Hey.” I grab his attention. “Next time, talk to me. We could have saved a lot of time if you weren’t making demands.”
He looks down at me quickly before needing to maneuver around a woman with a double-wide stroller. “It’s who I am, Juliette.”
“Well, can you try to be less with me?” I look at him. “I know it’s who you are, Harrison. Trust me, from the first day I saw you, I could tell exactly this is how you would be.”
He smirks. “How?”
“You have an air about you. You command a room even if you’re not talking.”
“You’re great for my ego, babe.” He rubs his thumb along my skin. “I’ll try, Juliette. But I am who I am.”
“I know.” I stop walking and step to the side so we’re out of the way of others. I go up on my toes, and he meets me halfway so I can kiss his lips. “I would never want to change you. Only sometimes the demands don’t always need to be so intense.”
He kisses me again. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”
“I didn’t even ask what we were eating.”
“Mediterranean. If that’s not okay, there’s an Italian spot one block over. I’m telling you though, this place is amazing.”
“Really?” I squeal with excitement. “Mediterranean is my favorite.”
He chuckles at my excitement and looks around as we walk down 76th Street. “I grew up on this block. It’s weird. It doesn’t feel like home.”
“Which one?”
He points to a beautiful brownstone with marble stairs. The curtains are open, so I can easily see in, and there’s no mistake that it is designed with precision.
“My parents still live here, but I haven’t been back in years.” He glances up one last time, and we continue walking.
