Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(98)

Not a real date. Haven tried to tell herself that, but it had yet to work. It certainly felt real to her.

“What is it then?” she asked.

“It’s just two people getting together to do whatever it is you people do,” she said. “Personally, unless it involves sex or bacon, I see no reason to do anything on Sundays.”

“Well, we won’t be doing that,” Haven muttered.

“No bacon? He isn’t vegan, is he? I don’t trust a guy that won’t chow down on a steak.”

Haven felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I meant the sex.”

She could hardly get the word past her lips.

Kelsey laughed. “What a shame. I had hope for you.”

Shaking her head, Haven peered back out the window. She saw him right away, halfway down the block, walking through the crowd. He was dressed impeccably, wearing black slacks and a white shirt. His dress shoes shone under the afternoon sunlight, a dark pinstriped tie hanging loosely around his neck. He walked with confidence, comfortable in his skin.

Watching him made her dizzy.

“I don’t get why you’re freaking out over this,” Kelsey continued. “You see this boy all the time.”

It was different, but Haven knew her friend wouldn’t understand. Kelsey dated all the time, meeting new guys every week, but that wasn’t Haven. She had no interest in dating at all. The afternoon walks after her painting class and the friendly banter she shared with Gavin were innocent. But this . . . this was planned. This was contrived. And to her, that was the difference between being friends and something more.

That thought alone—the thought of someone wanting something more with her—made her stomach clench with severe angst.

She dropped the curtain back into place, smoothing her clothes when Gavin knocked. She felt underdressed in her jeans and pink blouse. What did people wear on a possibly-but-maybe-not real date?

“Have fun,” Kelsey said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t worry,” Haven mumbled. “I won’t do half of what you would.”

Haven opened the door, smiling sheepishly when she came face-to-face with Gavin. “Hi.”

“Hey there,” he said. “You ready?”

“Uh, yes.” She took a tentative step outside. “I look okay, though, don’t I?”

His eyes quickly raked down her body at that question. Her skin prickled at the attention. “Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just saw you were dressed up and . . .”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I’m a little overdressed,” he said, looking down at himself as he rocked on his heels. “You look fine for what we’re doing.”

Haven shut the door, taking another step toward him. “What are we doing?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped off the porch, motioning for her to follow him. “I thought we’d take a walk or something.”

“But that’s what we do every day.”

“True.” He laughed. “It works for us, right? We can just see where we end up. I mean, unless you’d rather—”

“Oh no.” She cut him off, her anxiety lessening. “Walking is great.”

Maybe it wasn’t a date.

The two of them set off through the streets. Gavin struck up conversation, their usual friendly banter returning as he led her down to the subway on Twenty-third Street.

Haven froze on the platform after he grabbed their passes, her eyes scanning the others waiting. A white tile wall loomed behind her, while trash littered the grimy concrete ground. Bells and whistles sounded, a crackling loudspeaker drowning out the chatter of the crowd. People pushed, others yelled, as the whoosh of trains rushing past stirred up the musty odor of dirt and rank urine. Electricity buzzed and lights flashed as doors clattered, noisily opening and closing before the trains sped away.

It was contradictory—loud and chaotic, yet orderly at the same time, like an assembly line in an overworked factory. It felt robotic, almost inhuman, as people packed the vessels, methodically moving on and off like clockwork. It was an entirely different world underground, one Haven never realized existed beneath her feet.

Haven’s wide eyes scanned the scene, taking it all in with stunned silence. Gavin noticed her expression, scrunching his nose. “I know, it’s disgusting down here.”

“No, it’s, uh . . . I’ve just never taken the subway before.”

“Never?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

“How can you live in New York and not take the subway?” he asked. “How do you get to the other side of the city?”

“I don’t. I’ve never been.”

He stared at her. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Madison Square Garden?”

She shook her head.

“Times Square?”

“No.”

“Broadway?”

“Nope.”

A train pulled up to the platform, the silver doors creaking open. People moved toward it and Gavin pressed his hand to Haven’s back, guiding her into a graffiti-ridden car. He muscled his way through the crowd, acting as a shield between her and the others. She slid into the last empty spot on a hard plastic bench, her small frame squeezed between a teenage boy humming and an overweight bald man with body odor, slumped over and snoring.