Page 73 of The One I Want


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The small shake of his shoulders and soft chuckle make me smile.

When we walk outside, he asks, “Why did we get this again?”

“Number two on the list.”

“Right.” Holding hands, we walk toward the curb. “The negative vibes thing.”

“On the sixth Thursday.” His mom sounds like such a character. I’m sure we’ll get along like a house on fire. I’m sure she’d approve of me bringing him here for the smudge stick—known for eradicating negative energy from places. Just getting creative.

What I find more fascinating is that she knew her eldest would have negative vibes to eradicate to list it as a task.

“Are you going to burn this with me?”

I stop and lift on my toes. Kissing him once, I drop back down, and reply, “Thought you’d never ask.”

26

Juni

Not all superheroes wear capes.

Sometimes they carry caffeine because you’re dragging after a long night of fantastic sex. After walking a few doors down from New Age Innovations, we find a coffee shop.

“Was that Chris Evans?” Drew disappears from my side, and I look back to see him stopped like a tourist and staring at a man inside the shop where we just came from.

I try to follow his gaze, but I don’t see anyone—oh wait! A man walks out with two coffees in his hands. “Oh my God, it’s Chris Pine, right?” Squinting, I try to get a better look. “No, not the Star Trek Chris. He’s the Chris with the famous ass. It is Captain America.”

“I don’t know about the ass part, but I met him once at a movie premiere.”

Leaving the guy alone with a bunch of paparazzi following him, I walk back to Drew and point at the ground. “Are you going to pick up that name you dropped or leave it for someone else to try on for size?”

When he rolls his eyes, I feel like I’ve just been rewarded. Not only do I bring out his humor—sexually speaking—but now he’s rolling his eyes like a champ. I ogle him with pride, and then say, “I knew one day you’d catch on.”

“Are we talking about superheroes or eyerolls?”

“Both.” I slip my hand in his and start dragging him toward the subway. “Also, that’s so weird we saw him. I’ve had superheroes on my mind all day.”

“Oh yeah?” He stops, pulling me to a halt with him.

Invading his personal space, I say, “And every time they came to mind, I was thinking of you. Come on, we have a train to catch.”

“I’ll take the compliment, but . . .” he says, keeping me from rushing away. “I have a better idea.”

“Go on.”

He comes around and holds me from behind, running his hands over my denim-clad hips. Taking my earlobe between his teeth, he sends a delicious shiver up my spine. “We have a car on demand to take us wherever we want.” He signals to the curb. “I’d already called him.”

“Dating you definitely has its perks.” We hop into the car, and I see the same driver as last night. “Hi.” The man knows Drew and I had sex, so I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed, but I can’t seem to find any shame, even if the entire planet knew.

The driver looks in the rearview mirror with eyes that reflect his smile. “Ms. Jacobs. Mr. Christiansen.”

I lean forward and slip him a piece of paper. Keeping this a surprise took some pre-planning. He nods and says, “Yes, ma’am,” and we’re off to Brooklyn.

Just over two hours later, we’ve walked the boardwalk and eaten a hot dog. I say, “There are a lot of people here.”

“It’s Saturday,” he replies like that explains it all.

Maybe it does. I just feel like I let Gil down by not falling in love with Coney Island. He described it in such a romantic way, harkening back to his childhood and bringing Izzy. It’s great that he has those memories, but I guess it just feels foreign to me.

Drew says, “New York is this busy all the time. Is there any place in the city where you can find peace?”

“Are you wanting to be alone with me?”

His arm comes around my shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the worst way to spend the day.”

“As charming as that is, have you thought about what this is? What we’re doing?”

I liked his warmth wrapped around me, but I understand the need to close in a bit. It’s a protective gesture I sometimes take as well. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around. I can’t see his eyes behind his Ray-Bans, but I can feel the heat of his gaze when his eyes return to me. “I’ve thought about it, about us. We should keep things professional at the office. We’ve already established a working relationship. I don’t want undue attention on us.”

“No one will find out from me. The last thing I want to do is hurt your career.”

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