Page 85 of Last First Date

“This used to be my escape,” he said, his gaze drifting across the serene surroundings. “A refuge from the demands of the city.”

I sipped my coffee and listened to him talk. Knox didn’t really talk much about himself. He talked about New York and his job, but never really about himself. It was a Knox I hadn’t seen before. This version of Knox was vulnerable and open.

Central Park was a stark contrast from the urban jungle. At one point, I thought he was going to hold my hand as we strolled along one of the paths.

But he simply reached out to gently brush a stray leaf off my sweater. There was a certain tenderness about the gesture that made my heart flutter.

“We should head to the next spot,” he said after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “You might like it.”

At first, I thought maybe he was taking me to a pawn shop or a secondhand store, but when we walked in, I realized it was an art gallery. Discovering his love of art was not something I expected from him. It seemed so cultured for a man that seemed to be all about himself.

As he guided me around, Knox’s eyes lit up as he pointed out different pieces, talking about styles and famous artists. The passion in his voice was impressive.

As we revisited his favorite spots, I couldn’t help but smile at the way he lit up as he shared stories about his time in the city. He was different here, more alive and a lot less grumpy and jaded. It made me wonder about the life he led back home, the one I hadn’t witnessed. He didn’t seem to have that giant chip on his shoulder he had back in Utah. That made me realize just how much he hated Utah. He was never going to be happy there.

The walk around Times Square wasn’t a first for me, but getting to see it with him was exciting. I had to tell him the truth about seeing him back when I was a teenager. He nudged me lightly, his elbow brushing against mine. My cheeks warmed as I tried to deny the fact I was like every other young female back then. “No! Well, not me, but my friend did.”

His laughter was infectious, and I found myself chuckling along. As he talked about the embarrassment of posing nearly naked for years, I couldn’t help but admire him. He had lived a life most only dreamed of.

“It’s admirable,” I told him. “I think it’s impressive that you came out to New York by yourself and made a life for yourself. I don’t think I could have done anything like that.”

“But you did it,” he said.

“With your help,” I said, laughing. “No way would I have been able to get up there and do that without your support.”

His smile sent chills down my spine. It was genuine. And natural. I never considered myself a romantic, but it was the Empire State Building. It was the place where some of the greatest couples got together.

When we made it to the top, I thought I might scream with excitement. I couldn’t believe I was actually standing there. It was a magical moment and I was glad to be sharing it with Knox. He placed an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close as we overlooked the cityscape. The lights flickered below us, creating a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors that stretched as far as the eye could see.

“I used to dream about this place when I was a kid,” he shared, his voice barely audible above the bustling city sounds. “I’d imagine myself standing here, looking at all the possibilities.”

I leaned into him, comforted by his warmth. “And now you’re here,” I said softly. “You made it all on your own.”

He chuckled and shook his head, gazing at me with a softness that wasn’t there before. “And I walked away from it.”

We stood in silence for a while, just taking in the view and the feel of each other’s company. It was a moment I wished could be frozen in time, with Knox by my side. His longing to be back here was obvious. This was where he belonged.

After the quiet moment, we found ourselves in an old, tucked away nook that seemed out of place amidst the modern city. When we walked in, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia for a time I had never lived in. The rustic interior was cozy and inviting, and I could see Knox visibly relaxing.

“You used to come here a lot, didn’t you?” I asked, my eyes scanning the faces around us.

He nodded. “It was my go-to place. But being here now, it feels like a chapter of my life that’s closed.”

I could sense the conflict within him. I felt bad for him. He was truly miserable in Utah. It wasn’t fair to him to make him live somewhere he didn’t want to be.

This was the real Knox. The person he was when he wasn’t confined by the expectations and pressures back home. The realization that Knox might be unhappy in his regular life back home tugged at my heart.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. The connection that had blossomed between us was never going to develop into anything. The first chance he got to move back to New York, he was going to take it. Even if we did end up in a relationship, this was where his heart was. If I wanted to be with him, I would have to come here. The fast-paced energy of New York was intoxicating, but the idea of being here full time felt overwhelming. It wasn’t a place I could envision myself calling home. I liked the quiet of my hometown.

Joe delivered our meals. The shrimp linguini was incredible. “Wow,” I said.

“Seriously,” he echoed, twirling the pasta around his fork with an expression of absolute bliss. “This is some last-meal-worthy stuff.”

We both laughed. It was as if the place sucked you in and refused to let go. I could see why Knox loved it here.

“I’ll give you that one,” I said. The confused look on his face made me laugh. “Sorry. I was thinking and spoke mid-thought. I meant I will agree New York has some amazing restaurants. The food is really good.”

He chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Only some amazing restaurants?”