“This is the High Line,” I stated.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s closed.” I pointed at the ‘times of operation’ sign positioned helpfully by the gate.
His mouth twisted. “I know.”
“So then what are we doing?”
He jerked his head and yet again I was following him but this time down a side street, where the fence also ran. We then came to a low wall, which the fence continued across. Elliot hopped up onto the wall with ease, then turned, extending a hand.
“You expect me to come up there?” I gaped. “No chance.”
“Come on,” he said. “I need to show you something.”
“I’ve already visited the High Line.” I’d been at the weekend. I’d loved the novelty of it, of being surrounded by nature and art, mere meters above the busy city.
“Not like this you haven’t,” he said with a wicked grin.
“But it’s trespassing!” My heart began to pound. “There’s signs everywhere.”
“Trust me,” Elliot said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I regarded his hand for a moment, then glanced around. The side street was relatively quiet, most of the windows in the surrounding buildings dark. “You’re sure I won’t get arrested and deported?”
“Well, I can’tguaranteethat,” he said with a tut. “But Icanguarantee you won’t regret coming up here.”
“Fine.” I placed my hand in his. “But if I do get arrested and deported, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”
“How?” he said with a low laugh. “You won’t be in the country.”
“Daily glitter bombs. Nuisance calls.” I shrugged. “I’m actually quite resourceful when it comes to being a pain in the arse.”
“You shock me.” He tugged at my hand as I used my freearm to boost myself up onto the wall but, thanks to my total absence of core strength, I found myself tumbling. “Whoa!” Elliot grabbed me before I could plummet back down to the pavement.
My heart was pounding from the near miss, but not enough to distract me from the fact that his arms were around my waist, pressing me against every damn inch of him. It felt so unexpectedlyright.
“You okay?” he asked with a throaty chuckle I felt in my bones.
“Yup.” I really wasn’t. I was coming undone, and it was highly inconvenient.
If Elliot had noticed my unraveling, he didn’t comment. He merely put a finger to his lips and bade me follow him. We edged along the wall to another fence that stood in front of a steep bank, on top of which was the converted railroad known as the High Line. I still didn’t understand why he was leading me here. What on earth could Elliot show me that was so spectacular it was worth risking a trespassing offense?
Elliot was crouching down to a corner in the fence and in the murky glow of the streetlights I could see he was working open a previously hidden access point in the fence akin to a cat flap. In seconds he’d slithered through it to crouch the other side and beckon me through.
“Are you joking?” I hissed at him. “This is insane.”
“You scared?” His deep rumble made my insides flip and I realized that no, with him, I wasn’t. At least, not of trespassing. I was honestly more scared of what I would feel if I took him up on his dare. But then I was also crawling through the gap, consumed with the need to be on the same side of the fence as him. I pulled my body through and squatted next to him with a defiant nod.
“Good girl. Nowssh.” He put a finger to his lips again.
Good girl?Although London Lucie would have bridled at being addressed thusly by a man, New York Lucie kind of liked it. In fact, New York Lucie was close to spontaneously combusting on the spot thanks to those two words. Elliot began scaling the steep slope as if it were a gentle flight of steps, bracing himself against the trunks of the trees that lined the area. My leg muscles protested rather convincingly as I pulled myself up after him. This had better be worth it, I thought, although the view of Elliot from behind at this angle was probably reward enough. I shook myself; I had to stop this.
“Here we go,” he whispered loudly as he reached the top of the slope, parting the trees to step onto the main path.
Red-faced and trying not to curse as a branch thwacked my cheek, I emerged rather less gracefully from the incline. “All right, you got me up here.” We’d emerged onto a part of the High Line that was crowded by trees, blocking out much of the ambient light. “Now what?”
“This way.” We walked down the path until the trees stopped, opening into a broader platform that I recognized from my own wanderings. Elliot then led me to a lowered seating area, bordered off by some more trees. He grabbed my elbow, oblivious to the way his touch scalded me. “Sit. Or don’t sit. But be quiet. And see.”
