Page 94 of Just Ten Seconds

“Now.” Dean laces his fingers through mine and orders four hot dogs, three Cokes, a knish, and a churro from the vendor.

Dean hands Amanda and me our dogs and sodas, and I stare at them, wondering where we are going to eat. There are red metal tables and chairs in the center of the intersection. They’re all occupied, which is fine with me because eating in the middle of the street is bizarre, to say the least. Dean turns around and finds a stoop on the side of a building. He tells Amanda to sit on the concrete and then me.

I don’t want to be difficult, so I do as I was told. Dean sits on the other side of me and puts the food on his thighs.

Amanda is eating her hot dog with gusto. Dean takes a bite of his.

I hold mine in my hand and stare at it. Benjamin always said they were tourist trash. I take a bite of the hot dog in total spite. The casing snaps, and there’s a decent briny flavor. I take another bite and find it’s actually not bad at all.

Amanda giggles. I turn to her with a raised brow.

“You like it!” she says.

Dean rubs my back. “That’s my girl.” He hands me the churro. “Now, please tell me you’ve had one of these.”

If you’d told me I’d be sitting on the city pavement of Times Square, eating a hot dog under the NASDAQ sign, I’d never have believed you. Yet here I am, and I’m having the best time I’ve had in forever.

“Shawn Mendes!” Amanda is beside herself as we walk into Madame Tussauds and see her musical crush.

I didn’t even know she liked boys until I saw her fawning over the pop star. Dean snaps a picture with pride at her happiness.

When she’s done, she runs over to Justin Bieber and makes it look like the two of them are hanging out.

“You’re in trouble with that one,” I say as Dean takes her picture.

His face pales at the thought. “My baby is never going on a date.”

“You’re about five years away from her first boyfriend,” I say with a laugh and start walking toward another celebrity wax figure.

Dean loops his finger around my pinkie and pulls me back. He calls over to Amanda, “How old do you have to be to date?”

“Thirty,” she answers easily as she stares at the Biebs.

Dean leans in and whispers into my hair, “I figure if I tell her thirty, I might make it to eighteen.”

His doting yet protective fatherly ways are quite possibly the sexiest thing about him.

“Something tells me you’re gonna lose your mind, no matter how old she is.”

He puffs out his chest. “No one wants to see their baby girl dating, but I don’t think I’ll be that bad. I’m also a pretty cool dad.”

I lean back on my heels with crossed arms. “Dean, you couldn’t handle a broken bone, let alone buying a bralette.”

Amanda has her back to us as she waits in line to take a picture with the Jonas Brothers. Dean snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s quick, but man, is it potent with sexual energy, especially the way his hand travels down my backside and gives a squeeze.

“Thank God, I have you to help me with those things.” He winks as he releases me.

I feel heady and breathless. I also have this pang in my chest because, while those words should scare me, I find they don’t. I want to be the one to help him with all the things.

We walk around some more. Dean is adorable as he hops on ET’s bike and takes a picture, making it look like he’s flying in the air. I sidle up to Leonardo DiCaprio because he’s the handsomest and most talented man in all of Hollywood, and Amanda walks around, asking us who everyone is. Where she knows her musical icons, she is way behind in the film industry if they’re over the age of twenty-five.

Dean and I explain all of our favorites. Mine are Julia Roberts, Cate Blanchett, and Matt Damon. Dean is a Robert De Niro, Tom Hardy, and Bruce Willis fan.

When it’s time to go to Aladdin, we hold hands as we skip across Broadway and the glimmering lights of Times Square in the setting autumn evening.

Amanda’s eyes light up before we walk under the marquee. The gold doors open, and her chin never lowers because she’s looking up at the gold filigree and ornate scrolls of the hundred-year-old theater. Despite getting our tickets online at the last minute, we have great seats. Front mezzanine with the perfect view of the stage.

The play starts, and it’s smoke and magic. While I enjoy watching the show, I can’t help but watch her. Her eyes and mouth wide with suspense as the Cave of Wonders opens. She laughs loudly at the genie’s performance, and her cherub cheeks rise with excitement as the magic carpet zooms through the sky.