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“Did you and your mom have a good trip?”
I nod. “We did. We hit the M&M store,” I say, gesturing across the street when we’re about to pass it. “The Hershey store, the Disney store. Toys R Us was here back then, so we went there, too. She had sticker shock everywhere we went, though. New York isn’t the most budget-friendly city in the world.”
“No,” he agrees, smiling faintly.
“I loved it, though. The feeling of anonymity in this crazy busy city. It was like no matter how big my problems were back home, this place was so big it would eclipse them. It felt like I could escape it, and escape was this very tangible place.” I shake my head, my eyes probably twinkling with fondness. “I knew I had to live here someday. I didn’t know how Iwouldgiven the cost of living here, but I was determined to make it happen.”
“And you did.”
“And I did.” I smile, looking over at him. “What about you? Have you lived in New York all your life?”
“Not quite. My parents live in the suburbs in Connecticut, but close enough. We made trips into the city pretty regularly. I always knew I would end up living here as my primary residence, but I have vacation homes in other places.”
“Like where?”
“Northern Italy.” He glances at me. “I have a small place there in Bellagio, right on Lake Como. It’s a quiet town. It was the first vacation home I bought. By my standards, it’s a pretty modest flat, but it has incredible views. It’s a great place to decompress and enjoy a slower pace when you need it.”
“Mm, sounds nice. I’ve never been to Italy, but I’d love to go someday.”
He reaches around and grabs my waist, pulling me against him. “I’ll take you. We won’t stay at my place for your first trip, though. Maybe part of it, but I’ll take you to one of the nicer resorts. There’s a place you’d love in Cernobbio, it’s calledVillad'Este. It used to be a royal residence, so it’s obviously very nice. Beautiful grounds. I always thought if I ever got married, it would probably be there.”
“Should I brush up on my Italian?” I joke.
He’s not as alarmed by my possible joke about us getting married as an almost first date should be. “No need. I speak it fluently; I’ll do the talking for you.”
I smirk as we pause at the crosswalk. “That must be your ideal scenario. Maybe you should have just whisked me off to Italy to begin with.”
He smirks back as people crowd around us, waiting to cross. “Maybe I should have.”
We walk the rest of the way to the theater alternating between companionable silence and small talk mostly about the city. When we get there, there’s a crush of people commiserating outside before the show or arriving in cars. The theater sign is lit up and a surge of excitement hits me because I love coming to the theater, and it’s not something that’s in my budget to do regularly.
I don’t love the crowds, though. Before we make our way through this one, I slow down and turn to Calvin. “Can we take a picture in front of the theater?”
“Like tourists?”
“Exactly like tourists.”
He cracks a smile. “I suppose we can if you want to.”
He draws out his phone and we turn so the theater is our background. Since we have already been touching and leaning close from the moment we left the restaurant, I don’t feel strange about leaning in and doing a typical couple pose with him while I snap a picture with his phone.
Jackson would never let me touch his phone. I grabbed it just to hand to him once when he left it on a restaurant table and he snatched it away from me like it had physically hurt to have me touch it.
I wait for Calvin to react to my going through his photos. I’m not snooping, just checking out the three pictures I snapped to make sure I save the best one. He doesn’t seem to be anxious about my having it, though. He doesn’t seem to care at all.
I assume that means there’s nothing juicy for me to find, which shocks me considering who he is. I’m still a bit tempted toaccidentallyscroll back an extra swipe just to see what kinds of things he takes pictures of, but I behave myself and settle with just deleting the two inferior shots.
“That one’s the best,” I say, handing his phone back with the photo still on the screen. “Hollis has my phone. Can you send it to him so I can post it later?”
He swipes the screen, not looking at me as he asks casually, “Why does Hollis have your phone?”
“I may have harassed him to bring it.”
He cocks an eyebrow and looks at me.
I smile sheepishly. “It was before I decided to behave.”
We head into the theater and find our seats. It’s not hard. Calvin got us box seats, which I’ve never sat in before, but it’s quite nice because the two of us are the only ones in it.
