“What? I didn’t ask you. You asked me. At least you mentioned your desperate need for a date.”
“Ah, now I’m desperate?”
It was my turn to sigh dramatically. “Oh, yes, the desperation of being a beautiful man in New York.”
He hugged my arm closer. “So that’s why you want a date. You find me attractive.”
My mouth went dry, but I braved being honest, or at least I didn’t deny it. “And desperate,” I said, shooting him a sideways glance.
“That’s better than being the creepy neighbor.”
I laughed. “That’d be 4B. Everyone assures me he’s harmless, though.”
“Yeah, just likes to stand a little too close to women on the elevator. And 1D said she’s pretty sure he tried to sniff her hair a couple of times. But back to this wedding that you’re dying to attend. I’ll have groomsman stuff to do—whatever the hell that entails—the entire day of the wedding. But I can get you a room at The Plaza or send a car to pick you up at the apartment building.”
We stopped in front of a seven-foot tree. I stepped toward it and pulled it away from the wooden rack. I shook it, letting down the branches. “That’s perfect.”
“The room at The Plaza or the car?”
I glanced at him. “The tree.”
“Oh.”
“But I can book my own room at The Plaza. I get a government discount.” That equated to being free because working for HEAT meant risking my life, but at least it came with some nice perks.
“No need to do that. The Buchanans have paid for an entire floor, and you’ll want to be with the wedding guests. All I have to do is give Rex’s mom your name.”
“And tip her off to the fact that we’re…not that close?” I motioned for him to take over holding the tree so I could walk around it and see it from all angles.
I was glad for the branches blocking my face from his because I was blushing, one of the hazards of being a redhead, although I was usually good at keeping it under control.
“You could stay in my room,” he said quietly. He leaned to look around the branches at me. “It’s not a requirement of the bet, but if you really want to keep up appearances…”
Shit, shit, shit. I should not be doing this without knowing more about why Gage was on HEAT’s radar, but if X couldn’t be arsed to keep me in the loop, I could only assume there was no conflict of interest. I walked full circle around the tree, then nodded. “That’s perfect.”
“The tree?”
“Sharing a room.”
His pupils dilated as we stared at each other, barely breathing, finally wordlessly admitting that our attraction ran deep. There might be hell to pay later, but all I cared about at that moment was that I’d moved one step closer to having a fling with the do-gooder in 6A.
CHAPTER 10
KAT
Ipaced the hallway in front of Gage’s apartment with Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants on my back and a bottle of wine in my hands. Apparently, it was my go-to thank-you gift to Gage, and why not? It had gone over well the last time. But thanking him was just a cover for what I really wanted, the real reason I’d texted him just fifteen minutes after he’d helped me set up my tree in its stand and had gone home.
I wanted a real date with him. The kind that ended with a kiss and the promise of something more—much, much more—to come in the very near future. I’d had the bright idea that we could stream the movies that would be showing at the historical theater over the weekend, which had the benefit of giving me an excuse to see him again tonight. The gist of the text I’d sent him had basically come down tomy place or yours, but it definitely had to be his because I hadn’t yet bought a TV. He’d immediately replied back with ayes.
Now all I needed was the courage to knock on 6A’s door. It shouldn’t be so difficult. I was a thirty-year-old single woman with an appropriate sexual history and no qualms about being bold with a man. But there was something aboutthisman…
The door opened, and Gage leaned in the doorway. With his coat off, I could see how well his burgundy sweater and dark jeans fit him. And now he was in bare feet, which was a gateway to nakedness.
“Six B, were you ever going to knock?” His voice was smooth and low, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.
White knight complex or not, this man was my catnip. I approached him, and he stepped aside to let me in. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it while I set the wine on the counter and Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants, carrier and all, on a counter stool.
“You seem nervous, 6B.”
