If Ever(74)

That afternoon as we amble along Sixth Avenue, I tug on Tom's arm. “Please, we need to talk about it.” I’ve been a slug ever since I arrived and I need to figure things out.

“Talk away.” He continues along without a care in the world.

“But you aren’t listening.”

He chuckles and slides his arm around me hooking his thumb in my back pocket as we check out the holiday decorations. “I am, but I’m also trying to rest my vocal cords.”

So far we’ve come across a display of over-sized old-fashioned tree lights and a stack of enormous red tree ornaments sparkling in the December sun.

“Sure you are,” I say sarcastically, pretty sure he’s making that up. “I mean it. It’s been almost a week and I need to make some decisions.”

He sees how serious I am. “Okay. Everything stays as is. You relax and enjoy doing nothing for a while. Done,” he says with a smug smile.

There’s a surge of relief that he hasn’t changed his mind about wanting me to stay, but I still need a plan. “Smart Alec. I need to figure out my life too.”

He halts, his smile disappears. “You want to leave?”

“God, no. But I can’t keep freeloading. Plus, it’s not fair to Ryan.” He waves off my concern and continues, guiding me along the bustling sidewalk. “I need to contribute or it’s like I’m a kept woman.”

We pause at an intersection and he turns to me. “I never thought of it that way.” Then with a devilish grin says, “That’s kind of hot.”

Shaking my head, I step in front of him, forcing him to focus. “As much as I love warming your couch—”

“And my bed,” he adds.

“I need to get a job, a purpose. I thought I’d be okay doing nothing for a while, but I’m not. You’re busy every day with your workouts and meetings. I need to do something.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, but you aren’t talking about leaving?”

“I don’t want to. Not until you get sick of me. And I’m not sure what kind of temporary job I can find.” He frowns and I wonder which part of that he didn’t like.

“Chelsea, this has been the best week, heck, month, probably year of my life. And I don’t want it to end.”

His words are a symphony, easing my insecure ego. “Me too, but I can’t just do nothing. This is the longest I’ve gone without a job since I turned fourteen. I need a plan.”

The light changes and we cross the street. “Okay, but what’s the rush?”

“Well…” I pause because I hate to point out the obvious. “Because if this runs its course, I can’t be flat broke and homeless.”

He stares me down. Not happy with the direction of our conversation. “And you don’t think we’ll last? That I’d kick you to the curb?”

How do I tell him that I don’t know? I don’t think he would, but stranger things have happened. “Listen, I don’t have a great track record with people sticking around.” My high school boyfriend lasted about two seconds and my college boyfriend barely two months before I caught him cheating.

He pulls me to the side away from the throngs of people and brushes the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “Do you always over think everything?”

I nod and dip my head. “When life falls apart, and mine tends to do that a lot, I have no one to rely on but myself. There’s no family I can call on to bail me out or parents to let me move home.”

“Aw, shoot.” He pulls me into his arms. Our bulky coats prevent us from getting too close, but he places his chin on my head. “I wasn’t thinking about any of that. And while I have absolutely no plans of kicking you to the pavement, let’s find you some sort of job. There’s only so much shagging one can do in a day.”

I giggle at that and we continue on our way, my heart lighter. In the distance I see a marquee for Radio City Music Hall. I tug on Tom’s sleeve. “Is that where you performed for the Tony awards?”

“It is. It’s also home of the Rockettes.”

“Think they have a show? I’d love to see them perform.”

“They perform their Christmas show all season.” Suddenly his face falls as if he’s remembered something terrible. “Aw, bugger!”

“What’s wrong?”

He turns to me. “I just realized I forgot to tell you something and I feel like a total schmuck for not mentioning it before.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks away. I don’t know what he’s about to say, but I know it isn’t good.

“What is it?” I ask bracing myself.

“I’m going home for Christmas.”

I pause. “To England?”

He nods.

“Oh. It never occurred to me you’d take time off, but of course, you would. You should.”

“It’s been planned for months.” He rushes to explain. “My sister had a baby last spring and I haven’t been able to get home to meet her yet.”

“Yes, the cute baby picture in your dressing room. I suppose you don’t get home too often.” I sink my hands into my coat pockets as we continue walking.

“The last time was about a year and a half ago. It was two years before that.”