Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Wow,” I breathe, my eyes widening as I scan the airy room, packed with men and women in gorgeous clothes, tuxedoed waiters passing trays of wine and hors d'oeuvres, and a dinosaur skeleton so large I have to tip my head all the way back to see the top.
“As cool as I remember,” Cam murmurs as we get in line for the coat check. “Have you brought Crissy here yet?”
“No. We did the children’s museum and The Met, but we’ll have to hit this one soon. It looks amazing.”
“It is. Though, fair warning, it’ll probably make her dinosaur phase even worse. I remember the first time my mom brought me here as a kid. I was obsessed for years after.”
I glance up at him out of the corners of my eyes. “How did you know she’s in a dinosaur phase?”
“You had dinosaur toys in your purse the day I went looking for your EpiPen. I assumed they were Crissy’s, but if they’re yours, I apologize. I’m not one to judge.”
I smile. “No, they’re not mine.”
“It’s okay if they are. We don’t have to stop playing with toys, just because we’re grown-ups.”
I squeeze his hand, leaning into his side as I whisper, “Thank you, but those aren’t the kind of toys I like to play with.”
“What kind of toys do you like to play with, Ms. Barbu?” he asks in his husky voice, the one that makes me want to throw caution to the wind, drag him into a dark corner, and make out like I’m a teenager again.
Thankfully, before I can confess that I’m pretty sure his body is going to be my new favorite toy, Henri and his date join us in line. Adam, his much younger stud, is very sweet, and Henri is as charming as ever—putting Cam at ease with just a few words—but for the first time in longer than I can remember, I can’t wait to ditch my best friend.
I want Cam all to myself. I want to hoard moments with him like a dragon hoarding gold.
So, as soon as we’ve finished our first glasses of champagne and the band starts to play on the other side of the lobby, I grab Cam’s hand again and ask, “Shall we dance?”
“We shall,” he says, leading me towards the dance floor.
He pulls me into his arms under the lights as an instrumental version of “The Way You Look Tonight” fills the air and it feels like a fairy tale, one of the Disney kind that’s guaranteed to have a happy ending.
Chapter Twelve
Cameron
We dance every song—slow and fast and a couple weird ones in between—until the band takes a break.
But even when the live music is replaced by classical piped through the speakers, we continue to sway in the darkened corner, both of us clearly having zero interest in mingling.
“We should probably eat something,” she says, her cheeks pink. “But I have a confession to make.” She presses up on tiptoe to whisper inches from my lips. “I hate hors d’oeuvres.”
“Me, too,” I say, fighting the urge to crush my mouth to hers and get lost in her Natalie taste, the one I know I’m never going to forget, even if I kiss a hundred other women before I die. “They’re such a tease.”
“Right?” she says with a laugh. “They’re not even a mouthful. What’s that about?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not a fan.” I glance toward the entrance. “Want to get out of here? Go grab burgers from this place on Tenth? It’s a hole-in-the-wall, but the food’s incredible and they have ice cold beer and a jukebox.”
Her eyes glitter. “Ice cold beer, burgers, and a jukebox sound like the best thing ever.” She glances down at my chest before arching a brow. “As long as they won’t mind that we’re a little overdressed?”
“No one in New York cares if you’re overdressed. It’s one of the things I love about this city.”
“I’m starting to love this city, too,” she says, squeezing my hand with a happy sigh before she nods over her shoulder. “I’ll hit the bathroom and meet you by the coat check?”
“I’ll get our things and see you there,” I assure her.
There’s no line, so it only takes a moment to collect our coats and scarves, leaving me waiting by the exit for Natalie, an easy target for a friend intervention.
I see Henri breezing my way and brace myself for a warning to behave myself with his bestie, but to my surprise he simply pulls me in for a tight hug and says, “Yes, kid. Yes, yes, yes. Keep making her feel like Cinderella at the ball. She fucking deserves it, and you two are adorable together.”
“Thanks,” I say as he pulls back and slaps me warmly on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best. I really like Nat. She’s a cool person.”