Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“What’s it called?”
Dammit.
“Pizza Hut.”
She just shakes her head in disgust. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
The line moves and we shuffle forward. We’re behind a group of firefighters who look like they just battled through hell with all the grime, ash, and water coating their suits. Their pizza is on me.
“So, what do you have planned for me after this?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off this incredible girl. I feel alive whenever I look at her. My whole body tingles with excitement and possibility as I roam my eyes over her sexy lips and adorable cheeks. I just want to sink my hands into her hair and pull her mouth to mine. When she asked me where I wanted to go on my birthday tour, I almost said my bedroom.
Instead, we’re here getting pizza, and I have no idea what we’re going to do next. She left her suitcase in the lobby of my building with the security guard, because she wanted ‘to be totally free to do anything we pleased’—her words.
“That’s the fun part,” she says with a grin. “There is no plan. We’re going to go wherever the wind takes us.”
Right now, there is no wind. It’s August in New York and it’s hot as fuck. Hell’s Kitchen is definitely living up to its name. I take off my jacket and roll up my sleeves. Amber’s eyes dart to my thick forearms, her breath hitching for a second or two.
Apparently, I’m not the only one with more than just pizza on my mind. I take my time rolling my sleeves up, giving her a show. When she finally turns away, her cheeks are an adorable shade of pink and my hunger is stronger than ever.
I want her. Badly.
I haven’t wanted something for my birthday in ages, but I want her.
She grins when I pull out my tie and stuff it in my pocket.
“There you go,” she says, nodding with a smile on her face. “That’s more like it. I knew you had it in you to loosen up a little.”
I don’t want to hold my suit jacket throughout our whole date, or whatever this is… I might need these hands free if what I’m fantasizing about comes true.
“If you think that’s impressive,” I say with a grin. “Watch this.”
I walk across the street and toss my jacket into the big garbage bin on the other side. I have a closet full of them at home and if I had to choose between having another Italian suit jacket or sinking my hands into this girl’s silky hair while we kiss at the end of the night, well, that’s hardly much of a choice in my mind.
She’s smiling like she can’t believe I just did that as I jog back over.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she says when I return.
My adrenaline is so fired up that I take a risk and reach for her hand. She lets me take it. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I swallow her hand with mine and hold it like I’m never going to let it go.
Her gaze flicks up to mine—just for a second—but it’s long enough to spot the burning heat in her eyes. Damn. If she keeps looking at me like that, I’m going to get rock hard, and this is not the place—in public surrounded by firemen—to pitch a trouser tent.
She clears her throat and drops her gaze. “Anyway,” she says, pretending she wasn’t just mentally undressing me with those beautiful hazel eyes, “I think birthday nights should be spontaneous. No plans, no schedules, and definitely no spreadsheets.”
“You say that like spreadsheets are a bad thing.”
“They are,” she says, deadpan. “They’re joy-killers. Fun assassins. If a spreadsheet were a person, it’d be wearing khakis and saying ‘let’s circle back.’”
I laugh. I actually laugh. God help me.
Amber’s smile is full of delight as she looks up at me. “Was that an actual, legitimate laugh, Mr. Strickland? Careful now, what if someone saw you?”
“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
Fuck, I don’t remember the last time I felt this... loose. This light. I’m standing in the middle of a New York City sidewalk in one hundred-degree heat and somehow I don’t want to hail a taxi and race home.
And it’s all because of Amber. She’s making it fun.
I’d go anywhere, and do anything with her.
The firefighters ahead of us cheer when it’s their turn to order. Amber hoots and hollers like she’s part of the team. One of them offers her a fist bump, which she accepts without hesitation. Somehow she knows everyone and no one at the same time. It’s effortless for her. She’s magnetic. It’s like she belongs here. In this city. In this moment. In my life.
I’ve been here for twenty years, she’s been here for twenty minutes, and somehow she’s more of a New Yorker than me.