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“Oh boy,” I muttered, disentangling and grabbing his hand. Leading him to the door, I rolled my eyes as the man continued.
“I could check my calendar. There might be a month I’m not aware of. Or a national holiday I missed?”
“Very funny.” The hotel door clicked shut behind us, the lock buzzing into place as we walked away, Broderick trailing in my wake.
“Secret day of the week?”
“You’re hilarious.”
Chuckling to himself, he followed me down the hallway to the fire escape stairs. We were greeted by crisp air—seriously, I could almost see my breath in there—and the creak of ungreased hinges. It was the moment the heavy metal door clanged shut behind us that Broderick pulled me back against him and spun us, caging me in against the icy wall of the secluded stairwell, planting a knee between my legs to pin me in place. My breath halted as he towered over me, a forearm propped above my head in a way that saturated all of my senses. Those dark eyes held a seriousness in contrast to the smile playing on his luscious lips.
“I’ll play your games, El, because I meant what I said. You’re the ultimate prize life could ever give me.” He brushed my hair away from my face, eyes tracking where my throat bobbed before he slid just his thumb down the line of my jaw. The pad of his finger grazed over my bottom lip before gently pressing it down. I fought back the need to suck his finger into my mouth like some kind of feral animal in heat. As his eyes found their way back to mine, I rolled that lip between my teeth. “But this is questionable territory we’re treading in. And a man is nothing without his integrity, so I’m asking you again; when can I honor mine? Your brothers. Your dad. Mama Juniper. They all deserve to hear this from us.”
I could feel the rapid-fire tap of my heartbeat hammering in my throat as his now-flat palm brushed down my cheek, my jaw, bracketing my neck as his thumb hovered over the pulse point. Breath coming in tight little inhales under his intoxicating proximity, I nodded. Who the fuck knew that integrity could be so damn sexy?
“You’ll make a plan?” he pressed, those brown eyes narrowing slightly.
Still nodding, like that was all my brain remembered how to do, I breathed, “I’ll make a plan.”
“Good girl.” He dropped a reassuring kiss to my lips as my core went molten, rendering me barely capable of kissing him back. Somehow, he breathed life back into me before pulling back with a sweet smile in place. “Let’s go eat.”
Without further ado, the man returned the air to my lungs when he whooshed away from me, leading me down the concrete stairs with echoing steps without another word.
“God, I forgot how damn good this place is.”
“You didn’t oversell it,” Broderick said, grinning as he wiped his hands on a napkin. He was adorably out of place in the greasy little pizza joint—wearing his classy button-up shirt and vest—and yet somehow so GQ he pulled it off.
“The wax pizza tower is lame, albeit practical.”
“Totally lame. But it would be ethically appalling to remake the tower on a regular basis.”
“Obviously.” Rolling my eyes, I finally slid my plate away in surrender. “Suddenly, I’m not so mad about that movie tonight.”
“I think I’d get a side ache if we adjourned any sooner.”
I smiled, glancing across the bustling restaurant and reveling in the chaos surrounding our circle of ease. There was something spectacularly comfortable about dating someone I knew on such an intimate level—a friend who knew all about my ugliness and celebrated the beauty anyway—compared to the prolonged unease around dating strangers. We didn’t have to fight to impress each other. Didn’t have to pretend a romp in the sheets after eating our body weight in cheese sounded like an enjoyable experience.
Broderick had seen me at my worst—hell, he’d ridden in like a dark knight in shining armor to salvage my prom night when I was stood up—and at my peaks. There wasn’t a part of me he didn’t already know. Which meant enjoying time together was just that. Enjoyable. Effortless.
At least, it was until my eyes snagged on graying blonde hair and a familiar face across the restaurant. “No fucking way,” I muttered, my mouth hanging open as my feet fell to the floor from where I’d perched them on the foot of Broderick’s chair.
“What?” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder in the direction I’d been gaping in a most unladylike manner.
“Don’t look,” I hissed. “Mrs. Anderson is here.”
TWENTY-FOUR
BRODERICK
“Like…lives-next-door-to-Jameson, Mrs. Anderson?”
“Yes. Taught us all seventh-grade science. Five-foot-four, blonde hair, blue eyes. Takes her steaks pink in the middle. How many Mrs. Andersons do you know?”
I choked on a laugh before glancing over my shoulder. This was not subtle. We were staring like a couple of lunatics. Sure enough, retired Mistyvale Middle science teacher, and Jameson’s next-door neighbor, Mrs. Anderson, was standing at the hostess stand waiting to be served. Shaking my head, I muttered, “What are the damn odds? Man, it’s a small fucking world. A country between us, and we end up in the same pizza parlor?”
“What the fuck is she doing here? Chicago isn’t exactly vacation central, especially this time of year.”
“I thought Alex landed in Wisconsin.” Her kids were years ahead of me in school. Her youngest son, Alex, was three years older than El’s oldest sister, Jeanne, and the reason she’d originally gone out with her now ex-husband, Lincoln–good man, just shitty circumstances.
