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Darting his gaze to the clock, he exits the highway and cuts through a residential area before coming to an abrupt stop at a traffic light. We missed the green by a heartbeat.
Dash slams both hands against the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
“What’s wrong?”
He rests his head on his knuckles. “We’re on the wrong side of the Hudson River. On a holiday. We’ll never make it through the tunnel in time.”
The car behind us honks, and Dash lifts his head to glare into the rearview mirror before continuing forward.
I take a deep breath, hiding my disappointment behind a smile. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” His eyes soften as they dart to me. “I promised you fireworks. You’re getting fireworks.”
He takes the next turn, weaving around another series of side streets, toward downtown Jersey City. With every spot in the lot already taken, we park illegally on a strip of grass along the sidewalk.
“Ready?” He gets out and holds my door open.
I glance at the No Parking sign in front of the car. “Won’t you get a ticket?”
He shrugs, his gaze meeting mine as if to say, You’re worth it.
“Come on.” He takes my hand, tugging me forward. “The view’s better down there.”
We pass several food carts, and my mouth waters at the tantalizing aroma of charred meat and spicy chili. Dash stops and buys a funnel cake, and then we cut through the crowd along the riverfront walkway to a vacant patch of grass facing the water. Dash sits, motioning me to join him, and we devour the funnel cake as if we haven’t eaten in days.
Across the river, the glittering New York skyline captures my full attention. The water shimmers like glass, reflecting the lighted buildings and making the whole sky glow. “It’s amazing.”
“Especially at night,” he agrees.
As if to punctuate his sentence, the sky sizzles with bursts of red and blue, and ribbons of glittering ash swirl toward earth, winking out before reaching the water.
“You were right.” I glide a hand through the cool grass between us, inching toward him as if he has me hooked at the end of a line, reeling me in like a fish. “This is worth every minute of traffic and every nasty bathroom along the way.”
Drawn by the same unseen force, Dash meets me in the middle, his fingertips barely grazing mine before he snatches his hand back.
Undeterred, I drag my eyes to his stunning profile . . . his perfect lips.
He shudders, as if he feels the heat of my gaze caressing his skin. “Being this close to you is absolute torture.”
Heat engulfs my face, and I freeze, willing my muscles to move—to flee—before humiliation crushes me. “I’m sorry.”
“Zoey, wait.” Dash’s hand closes over mine, holding me still. “That’s not what I—” He releases a ragged breath. “It’s taking every bit of self-control to keep from kissing you.”
My heart flutters. “Self-control is highly overrated.”
“Zoey . . .” He groans, and his trembling hand cups my face.
Prickles of warmth spread through my belly.
Another burst of color explodes across the sky with a series of pops and crackles, scenting the air with sulfur and smoke, but Dash locks his gaze on mine as he glides his thumb over my cheekbone . . . and the swell of my bottom lip.
His touch sets me on fire, and a needy sound breaks out of me.
He drops his hand, cursing under his breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why?” Blood races through my veins as I drag out the word.
He tears his gaze from me and scrubs a hand down his face. “You have a boyfriend.”
