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“Babe?” I ask with arched brows.
“Oh,” she blushes. “Sorry, it just slipped out,” she adds, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What are you apologizing for? I love it. Say it again,” I command.
“No,” she laughs and playfully rolls her eyes at me. “Come on,Knox.” She turns to wave and smile at our Uber driver. A big smile is plastered across my face as I stand on the curb with my arms crossed against my chest.
“Nope, not until you say it,” I reply with a smirk.
“Oh my God, you’re such a kid,” she scoffs. “Come on,babe.”
Fuck, I love the way that sounds.
“Yes, my lady,” I reply, rolling our luggage towards the trunk and placing a wet, sloppy kiss to her flushed cheek.
Of course, our driver is in a Toyota Corolla, and I barely fit in the backseat. My legs are squished against the passenger seat, my knees against my chest. Phoebe is clearly loving the view as she tries not to die of laughter beside me.
“So, I guess no sexy time in the back seat?” she whispers before throwing her head back in laughter.
“You’re a little shit, you know that?” I snark back, the corner of my lip turning up in a smile.
“It’s okay, you can make it up to me later in the Jeep. I’ve never had car sex before,” she adds, the side of her lips tipping up in a smirk.
“Phoebe Rhodes,” I exhale. “Don’t talk dirty right now. The last thing I need is a hard-on while I’m fighting for my life back here. I feel like I’m in a fucking yoga class right now,” I quip, darting my gaze to my knees.
“I like my men flexible,” she hums, biting her full lip between her teeth.
“Phoebe Rhodes, you have no idea what you’re doing. Just wait until I have you alone tonight,” I whisper in her ear so the driver can’t hear.
“Is that a threat?” she whispers back, lifting an eyebrow.
“It’s a fucking promise.” I kiss right behind her ear as heat surges through me at the thought.
Traffic in NYC is a bitch. Almost an hour later, we finally pull up to our hotel. I internally curse and remind myself to look up how long it takes by train for the return trip.I can’t go through that shit again.After I maneuver out of the back seat, I walk to Phoebe’s door and hold my hand out to her. Her eyes widen in what I assume is amazement, her gaze tracking the flocks of people whipping by as she steps up onto the damp pavement. The first time I came to New York, I remember feeling overwhelmed, amazed, nervous, and intrigued all at the same time. The hustle and bustle of the city is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Oh. My. God,” Phoebe gasps, slowly pulling her hand from mine to spin around and take in the full view of the striking city. “This is… holy shit. I feel like I’m in an episode of Gossip Girl. Blair? Serena? I made it,” she calls out with a laugh.
“Another one of your juicy soap operas?” I joke.
“Only the best! I'msomaking you watch episode one with me tonight. You’re gonna be hooked,” she laughs conspiratorially.
I made sure to book a hotel right in the heart of Manhattan. Cars, taxis, and buses fill the dark streets, a fluorescent glow reflecting across the shiny asphalt. The city is alive with sounds of horns, tires, music, chatter, and laughter bustling through the streets. Phoebe’s eyes look almost silver as she gazes up at an LED billboard advertising various Broadway shows. The neon colors cascade through her blonde hair, encasing her in a vivid ring of light.Damn, she makes New York look good.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now,” I whisper in her ear as I step up behind her, wrapping her in my arms.
“All thanks to you,” she whispers back. “Thank you for asking me to come, Knox. I’m so glad I’m here with you.”
“Thankyoufor saying yes,” I respond as I place a kiss to her chilled cheek. “Being here with you is the only thing I could think about all week.”
“Aayyyy, get outta the middle of the walkway! Damn tourists…” an angry passerby yells, bumping into my shoulder as he shakes his head.
“What an asshole,” Phoebe scoffs, quickly flashing her middle finger in the man’s direction as he storms away.
“Maybe we should wear ‘I Love NY’ shirts just to rub it in that we’re tourists? What do you think?” I mutter, drawing a laugh from Phoebe.
“Let’s go, Bee,” I say, placing a hand to the small of her back. “We’re meeting my family in half an hour. After we drop off our luggage, we’ll walk to the restaurant. It’s only a few blocks away.”
Once we checked in, we made our way up to the 15th floor. I was hoping the elevator would be vacant so I could get my hands on Phoebe in places not appropriate for a crowd, but unfortunately, we had quite the audience. A frustrated mother was bouncing her screaming baby in her arms while an elderly couple furiously complained about not having a room on the first floor.
