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The air around me shifted, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew that feeling all too well—and the culprit even better. Then, smooth as silk, the voice I’d been dreading was right beside my ear.
“Where are you going so early on this fine morning, cool girl?”
If I could have pulled my hood over my head without looking like a scaredy cat, I would have. I had no use for Alex Murray’s voice in my ear at six-thirty in the morning.
Or ever.
“Out.” Succinct and to the point. The point being he could go take a hike—and not with me.
“What a coincidence, so am I.” He bent over Simone’s stroller and rubbed his wide palm across her middle. “Ah, you brought an angel with you,” he whispered.
“Yep.” One-word answers were all I had the energy for.
He straightened to his full height, which never failed to take my breath away. Being a pretty tall girl, it was rare for men to truly tower over me, but Alex did. Tall and lean, red hair haphazardly thrown into a man bun, a bushy beard, and freckles across the bridge of his nose, he shouldn’t have been attractive, but he made it work. Probably because he didn’t give one single shit if he was attractive.
The elevator doors finally slid open, and before I could stop him, Alex gripped the stroller handle and pushed it inside. I had no choice but to follow, and though I wanted to cram myself into the corner to stay as far from him as possible, I controlled myself and stood a respectable two feet away.
I felt his eyes on me, but that was nothing new. He played lead guitar in Unrequited, and since I traveled with them more often than not, I saw him quite a bit—and he was a starer. Years ago, I’d decided he did it to get on my nerves, and it worked, but I’d gotten adept at ignoring him.
Everyone liked Alex Murray, but I did not. It always came as a surprise to people when they found that out. They often said things like:“But Murray is so likable,”or“Murray’s that loveable goofball on lead guitar, right? He rocks!”My favorite was:“Murray’s so sweet. Sure, he fucked me, then left me alone and naked in bed, but he was really sweet about never calling me again!”Okay, no one had ever said that one, but I was certain there were plenty of girls out there whowouldgiven the chance.
The thing that rankled me about the whole situation was people usually assumed I was the cause of my falling out with Alex. Yes, I was difficult and held a grudge until the end of time, but I had done nothing to deserve the judgment and beady eyes of suspicion. I could practically hear the thoughts of our mutual acquaintances.“That Yael, she’d fight a bear if she thought it had done her wrong.”“I wouldn’t want to get on Yael’s bad side. Once, she dragged a chick out of her brother’s apartment by her hair!”And okay, both those things were true, but that didn’t make my dislike for him any less valid.
There were three very real reasons why I did not like Alex Murray.
My idiot brother showed him pictures of me in my “awkward stage,” which was basically from birth to age sixteen—the year we moved from New York to Maryland and met Alex Murray. And Alex, who had been edging toward best friend status in my esteem, laughed. He went through each picture Mo showed him, studying them with a fine-tooth comb, cackling like he’d never seen anything funnier than me pre-nose job with cystic acne and braces. To this day, I wasn’t sure if he knew I’d overheard him laughing, but from that moment on, he went on my shit list and had lost all chances of being my friend, let alonebestfriend.
When Mo hired me as his assistant, Alex very bluntly told him it wasn’t a good idea. How did I know this? Call it a Freudian slip, but Mr. Murray sent this missive via text to the wrong Aronson sibling. Imagine my chagrin to receive a text that said, “Yael doesn’t have the temperament for the job. No way she’ll like it. Tell her to keep studying art. She’s gonna be a shit assistant.” I hadn’t even bothered replying. I merely screenshotted Alex’s lovely text and forwarded it to my brother.
This one was a doozy, and it occurred between number one and two, but I didn’t really feel like getting into it, thank you very much.
We exited the elevator, Alex still holding tight to Simone’s stroller, his ever-present skateboard tucked beneath his arm. Our doorman held the door for us, but Alex paused.
“Where are we headed?” he asked.
I nodded toward his skateboard. “It looks like you’re going skating. Simone and I are out for caffeine.”
He forged ahead, heading right out the front door, and I scrambled to follow, my tired feet tripping over each other.
“Are you kidnapping my niece? You’ve done some pretty uncool things over the years, but this might take the cake.”
He shook his head, chuckling merrily. “Oh, Yael, you never fail to make me laugh. Obviously I’m keeping you and my baby friend safe on the mean streets of NYC while escorting you to the nearest coffee establishment.”
“The problem with that is I’d rather swallow glass than spend time with you, Alex.”
His wince was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed. If my heart hadn’t been hardened from the beating he’d given it, I might have felt sorry for being such a dick. But it was, and I wasn’t.
He shook his head, clucking under his breath. “You never ease up, do you?”
“Not around you.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m immune to the Yael Aronson bitch-slap. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
I rolled my eyes. “For something to hurt, you’d have to first have feelings.” I gave him an almighty shove and stole my niece back. He could follow me all over the city if he wanted, but I was taking back my control.
