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Chapter Four
Finley
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“It’s cold out here.” I cross my arms, rubbing my hands up and down the outside of my coat sleeves, trying to warm myself.
“Welcome to Chicago,” Abel teases. “Given the time of year, I don’t think the temperature is half bad.”
“This isn’t my first winter in Chicago,” I tell him with a pointed look. “But it’s still cold.”
“This is nothing.”
“Maybe for you, but for me this is freezing,” I stutter, my teeth chattering slightly.
“That’s the Carolinian in you. It’ll take you a few years to adjust.”
“Says the person who’s lived here his whole life. How would you know how long it will take me to adjust?”
“I never said I grew up here.” He looks down at me.
“Oh, I just assumed.”
“I’m just messing with you. I grew up about fifteen minutes outside of the city.”
“Such a brat,” I mutter under my breath. “So are we almost there? I’m starting to regret our decision to walk.”
“Taking a car would have been a waste of money. We’re nearly there.”
“And where exactly are we nearly there to?” I ask, still having no idea where he’s taking us.
“You’ll see.” He grins at me before dropping an arm over my shoulder and pulling me to his side.
I try to pretend like the action has zero effect on me, when in reality it sends a whole other kind of chill straight through my body.
“Taking me to a dark alley so you can off me?” I bump my hip into his, trying to hide my reaction to him.
“Off you?” He laughs, the sound rumbling through him. “Pretty sure if all I wanted was tooff youI would have done so five blocks ago.”
“Maybe you just like watching me suffer,” I quip.
“I hate to disappoint, but I’m not trying to off you. And,” he pauses, his gaze sweeping in front of us. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re hardly alone.”
“I guess you’ve got me there,” I say, looking around the busy walkway.
“Besides, we’re here,” he announces seconds later, pulling me to a stop directly across the street from theHouse of Blues.
“House of Blues?” I question.
“One of the best concert halls around. So many great bands have played here. It’s one of my favorite places. You ever been?” He drops his arm from my shoulder and turns toward me.
“I haven’t.” I shake my head. “Who’s playing tonight? Anyone I might know?”
“Guess that depends on what kind of music you like.”
“Guess what kind of music I like,” I challenge.
“Hmm.” He taps his chin dramatically as he stares at me. “I’m going with Pop.”
