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13
CARLEIGH
It’s dark once we step outside into the night air, but it’s not that late yet - about ten.We turn and walk south.When we pass by the church, I grip his hand tighter and tug him across the street to Morningside Park.
“We can cut across the park,” I suggest.“It’ll be easier to get a cab on the other side.”
“Sure.”Bryson points at my shoes.“You okay to walk in those?”
“They’re not that high,” I say, “it’s fine.I should ask you, actually - is your ankle okay?We can just call an Uber.”
“I’m right as rain, babe, don’t worry.”He squeezes my hand.“Thanks for bringing me tonight.I was a little worried at the start there, but it actually was interesting.”
I laugh.“Thank you for coming.I can’t believe I got you out without a hat.”
Bryson runs his free hand through his hair.“I clean up pretty good though, huh?”he says, with a grin.“I should have worn my bow tie.”
I roll my eyes.“All that attention is going to your head already.Should’ve let Ashley hook her claws into you and take you to her lair.”
“No.”He waves his hand, swatting the implication away.
“Bryson, she was about to climb you like a tree before Evana called you away.No wonder you wear a hat all the time.The full effect is just too powerful.”
He wiggles his eyebrows.“That so?”he teases, waving his hand at himself.“You feeling under the influence of fancy Bryson?”
I giggle and then scoff.Yes.But he doesn’t need to know that.“I must have stronger willpower than Ashley.”
Bryson clutches his chest.“You wound me, Carleigh!”he jokes.Then, distracted, he points our joined hands at a large tree we’re passing by.“Hey, look at how big that squirrel’s tail is!”
I follow his direction, spot the big rodent, and nod.Only Bryson would think to comment on that.“Very impressive,” I confirm, using my free hand to rub my bare arm.It’s still pretty warm, but it’s getting a little cooler, and I’m sure the mosquitoes are about to come eat me alive any second.We’re almost through the park, though, so it shouldn’t be too much longer before…
Bryson stops walking, drops my hand, and all of a sudden, I’m warm again.
“You should have said you were cold,” he says over the top of my head, his hands running across my back in big, wide strokes.“I should have noticed.You’re wearing this little dress-”
I melt into his chest.God, I love hugging Bryson, love being held by him, and love how warm and affectionate he is.“It’s summer,” I mumble against his shirt.“The dress is for summer.”
“Believe me, no complaints about the dress.”A big palm runs down my bicep and back up.The other curls around my waist, clutching gently.“I’m a fan.”
I laugh softly, but my chest burns warm at his words.“Thanks, Bryson.”We should really start walking again; this park is decent enough, but it’s night in New York, after all.“We should get to the street, probably.Never know where you’ll get mugged.”
Bryson’s arms tighten briefly around me at that, then he unwinds them, keeping one arm around my waist.“Yeah, for sure.”We walk a short distance in silence, his hand clutching my hip more firmly now, then out of nowhere he says, “I’d never let anything happen to you.I want you to know that.”
I reach over and put my hand on top of his on my hip, squeezing his fingers as best I can.“I know.”
And I do.He’s big and strong and I’m sure his size alone is enough of a deterrent for anyone looking to steal a purse, but self-preservation instincts die hard.Still, he’s sweet, and I tell him so.
“Yeah, I’m like sugar, babe,” he jokes, as we reach the street.He lets go of me to step onto the road, peering out for a cab.“Where are we going anyway?Home?”
I shrug.“Unless, there’s somewhere else you want to go.”
Bryson moves his head back and forth, clearly hedging on something.“I know Quinn’s at this place uptown, think Bhati is there, too.Want a nightcap?”
He’s smiling at me with absolutely no pressure, a reassuring ‘whatever you want’ expression on his handsome face.Under the streetlights, with his black shirt and his slacks and those light eyes, he looks incredible.I understand the impulse of girls to throw themselves at him.I want him to catch me, too.
“Yeah,” I decide, nodding.“Sounds good.”
The bar we end up at is crowded - there’s definitely some kind of event going on, which explains why Quinn is here - but Quinn and Bishop have managed to snag a booth with some extra room, if we squeeze.Bryson hasn’t let go of me since we left the lecture, practically, so I don’t think he’ll mind the tight fit.
