In a New York Minute(76)

Watching her sleep felt oddly personal and also quietly comforting, but then again—perhaps a little weird. Should I still be here? I looked at her front door; there was no way to lock it from the outside, so if I left now I’d be leaving her door open to the world. I pondered my plan as I rinsed out the cups and bowl, placing them on her dish rack. I felt strange staying, but leaving her here with her door unlocked just wasn’t an option.

That was it. I was staying. I took off my jacket and folded it over a chair. Then I grabbed a pillow off the couch to tuck under my head, and I lay down on my back, my body on the floor next to where Franny slept, dead to the world. I closed my eyes and thought about Moonstruck, and what it means to remember that falling in love is possible.

*



“Hayes?” There was a voice, and a warm hand, and something hard against my back. I kept my eyes shut, determined to stay asleep.

“Hayes.” The voice was firm now, the hand, too, pressing into my chest with a shake.

“Mmm.”

“Are you asleep on my living room floor?”

The voice jolted me awake. I had drifted off, forgotten that I’d decided to lie down until Franny woke up and I could leave with her safely locking the door behind me.

“Hey, yes.” I squinted my eyes open, and there was Franny’s face peering over the edge of the couch, lit up by sunlight.

“What are you doing down there?” She leaned over and tousled my hair gently, pushing it off my forehead.

I stretched my arms overhead. Shit, my back was killing me.

“You fell asleep during the movie, and I didn’t want to leave, because your door only locks with a key. I figured I’d stay until you woke up.”

I pushed myself up to sit. The long, meandering night had finally hit me. It hurt to move. Franny leaned forward on her elbows and then turned to look at her legs before looking back at me. “Did you put a blanket on me?”

I nodded.

“And you stayed here on the floor instead of waking me up and having me lock the door behind you. Or sleeping in my bed.”

“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair, which was sticking up at all angles. Those ideas hadn’t even crossed my mind. Just the mention of her bed kicked me awake, imagining the thought of us in it. Not sleeping. God, I felt ridiculous.

“It’s”—she squinted at the watch on her arm—“ten twenty-four.”

“I haven’t slept this late since college,” I said, twisting to give my back a crack. “I’ve normally run six miles and done a bunch of work by now.”

“You’re a terrifying machine,” she said with a laugh.

“I’m sorry I ended up crashing here. I’ll head home.”

“Okay, or”—Franny’s hand was suddenly on me, my shoulder, fingering the edge of my button-down—“you could stay.”





Chapter Twenty-Three

Franny



“Stay.” Hayes’s voice was unsure, and his tone made me realize the gravity of what I’d just suggested. It’s why I’d kept extending our night, over and over again. I didn’t want our time together to end. I wasn’t ready for him to leave; I wanted his hand back in mine for a little bit longer.

“Yeah,” I said. “We could get some coffee, go to the farmer’s market. Make a day of it?”

And then it dawned on me: I was stalling. I was holding out because I knew where this was headed. And, god, I liked teetering in this spot, that moment when you’re strapped in and standing on the edge, about to jump out of the plane. This feeling sometimes felt better than the actual fall.

“Coffee,” he said. “And bagels?”

“Oh, definitely bagels.”

I grabbed some jeans and a tank top out of my drawers and shuffled into the bathroom, where I blotted my face with a makeup-removing wipe and brushed my teeth. I stared at myself in the mirror and remembered how, just days ago, I had told Hayes I didn’t want anything to happen between us. I realized now I’d been afraid, and it had been easier to shut things down than to actually say yes to the thing I wanted. I don’t know if it was the gelato, or the moonlight, or the magic of the Brooklyn Bridge, but somewhere over the East River I decided: Maybe it was okay to go for exactly what I wanted for once. And what I wanted was Hayes.

“I promise you it’s worth the walk to Court Street for these bagels,” I said as we trudged down Henry Street, past the less worthy bagel shops that were closer to my apartment.

“Are you trying to out–New York me for a second day in a row?” he joked, casually linking his fingers through mine, sending my head spinning.

“Aren’t I always, Hayes? Haven’t you figured this out by now?”

Later, bagels sufficiently devoured (egg and cheese for me, cream cheese and lox for him), we wandered toward the farmer’s market with giant coffees in hand. The air was still slightly cool and humid, with an overcast sky hanging low and heavy with gray clouds.

“Do you mind if I grab some stuff for this week?”

“Of course not,” Hayes said between sips.

“If you have to go…,” I began. I wasn’t sure how this time together had started, and I definitely didn’t know when it was supposed to end.

“Franny, my day is wide-open.”