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When she disappears behind a display of books, Ethan offers me his arm. “Signorina.”
I hook my hand in the crook of his elbow, blinking against a sudden surge of emotion as he guides me to the table and pulls out my chair. To think, I almost missed this.
For the rest of the evening, I feel like I’m living in a dream. A surreal, otherworldly, utterly perfect dream. And I can’t help drawing a comparison between Matt—who chose the trendiest restaurant in the city to celebrate—and Ethan—who chose the restaurant that was most likely to bring me joy.
After our meal, we walk arm in arm, enjoying the quiet cobblestoned streets and ruddy brick buildings painted in the dazzling lights of the city. Ethan halts our wandering in a neighborhood fondly dubbed Dumbo, which he explains stands for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass.
Standing on Washington Street between Front and Water Streets, with Ethan’s arm casually draped around my shoulders, I experience one of those out-of-body moments, when the edges of the world turn fuzzy, and time stands still. Framed by looming brownstones on either side, the sleek, steel lines of the Brooklyn Bridge glitter against the obsidian sky. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever beheld, made even more captivating by the company.
“Pretty, huh?” he murmurs.
“It’s breathtaking.”
“I come out here a lot to enjoy the view,” he admits. “In fact, this is where I was standing when Brynn called to tell me you were coming to stay with us. Do you want to know what my first thought was?”
My breath catches, and I nod slowly, desperate for him to continue.
“I thought,If you care about this girl even half as much as you used to, you need to tell her how you feel.”
His words settle over me, light and ephemeral, like a whisper on a faint breeze. And yet, they somehow also hang heavy with implication, the kind of statement that could change the course of your life.
My chest cinches, aching for an answer as I ask with painful uncertainty, “And do you? Feel the same way?”
His response seems to take ages, and when he finally speaks, it’s a crushing blow. “No, I don’t.”
I crumble beneath the weight of my disappointment, but Ethan turns me toward him, meeting my gaze as he sweeps aside a strand of my hair. “I care about you even more than before, more than I thought possible. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You’re funny, kind, unbelievably clever, beautiful, and brave. You, Quincy Carmichael, aren’t simply long-term material. You’re the forever I’ve been waiting for.”
Just when I think I’ve ceased breathing for the rest of eternity, Ethan lowers his mouth to mine. There’s no preamble to his kiss, no warm-up or warning. The second our lips meet, the spark is fierce, unapologetic, and pure, like the hottest flame, warming me from the inside out. I clutch his coat’s lapel, not sure I can stand of my own volition.
I confess. I’ve thought about kissing Ethan Delaney many,manytimes in my life. But even in my wildest imaginings, it was never like this. Never so all-consuming, so momentous and weighty. I feel the cobblestone shift beneath our feet, marking the moment everything changed.
When our lips part, he presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “I lost you once. I won’t let it happen again.”
I don’t speak. I can’t. What can I say? What does he mean? My thoughts are a jumble. My feelings are even more so. I want to hold on to whatever is happening between us, but I’m afraid that a single thought spoken out loud may be our undoing. So, I simply cling to him, savoring even the smallest sensation.
“I used distance as an excuse once,” he says softly, his fingertips caressing my hair again. “But I can work from anywhere.”
Startled, I meet his gaze. “You’d give up New York?”
“I don’t see it as giving up New York so much as it’s gainingyouin my life.”
“But…” I trail off, struggling to wrap my head around the enormity of what he’s saying. “But New York is your home.”
“I love this city. But at the risk of being too cliché, it’s true what they say. Home is wherever you are.” He flashes me his adorable lopsided smile—the one that’s made my knees melt since we were teens—and gently cups the side of my face, his thumb trailing along my cheekbone. “In case I’m still not being clear. I love New York, Q. But I love you more.”
He kisses me again, this time so tenderly, my toes curl inside my boots.
And as I surrender to his touch, I’m almost able to block out the haunting whisper in the back of my mind. The one that says,If you promise him forever, you’ll only break his heart.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
As I lie awake that night, the voice inside my head grows louder, strangling all the sweetness from my evening with Ethan until all that remains is my crushing self-doubt.
I shift onto my side, careful not to disturb Whiskers, who’s asleep on my pillow. In the moonlight, the murky shadows look even more ominous, as if something might be lurking beyond the edges of what I can see. I shudder at the thought but can’t close my eyes. That’s when the visions start.
Restless, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. But the visions find me there, too.
I can see that hot, sticky summer day as if it were unfolding in real time. Chad and I had finished our street vendor popsicles and were content to wander around Central Park with no agenda or destination. We were simply enjoying each other’s company. We always enjoyed each other’s company. Although we’d only been dating for six months, I had a feeling Chad was “the one.” He made me feel fun, desirable, and worthy of love. It was a feeling I could get used to, and when the time came, I was prepared to give him my heart, wholly and completely, until death do us part.
