When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(48)
I answer with a nod and watch Kennedy’s tiny ass disappear into the thick of the crowd.
Mark waits for me near the front entrance, a devilish grin on his face. He nods his chin toward the packed space. “Saw our girl shaking her ass up there.” The smirk on his face is enough to make my blood thump thick in my veins.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laying his ass out here in the middle of the sidewalk. “Don’t be an asshole.” I walk toward the car, whipping around to face him. “And don’t call her our girl. She isn’t your girl. She was never your girl.”
My anger is received with a bout of laughter. He jogs to catch up and swings his arm over my shoulder. “I thought bringing you here was supposed to lift the dark cloud looming over your head, but it seems an even bigger stick has been shoved up your ass now.”
I brush his arm off, unlock the doors, and jump behind the wheel. “Where am I taking you?” I bark, strumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “What are these comments about her being our girl? Rico does the same thing.” Mark pulls his phone out of his front pocket and throws it in the middle console, but stays silent as I blabber. “Also, has Kennedy always been this hot? Or is this some new found maturity from being away from her parents?” I press my head into my hands and pull on the ends of my hair.
Mark’s boisterous laughter gives me no choice but to look at him. He buckles his seatbelt, holding his stomach as his body convulses.
“What the fuck are you giggling about?” I knead the wheel between my hands. “I don’t even know where the fuck I’m taking you.” I turn the key in the ignition and pull into traffic.
“Bea shares an apartment with her sister. I’ll tell you where to turn. And I’m laughing because there’s no possible way you weren’t aware of how fuckable your girlfriend was in high school, and how fuckable she is now.”
Almost breaking my neck, I whip around. “What did you just call her?”
“You. Are. Jealous.” Mark enunciates every word with a shake of his head. “She’s always been beautiful, Graham. You knew it way before you were willing to admit it. Somehow all the shitty things in her life didn’t destroy her but made her bolder. You’re one of those shitty things.”
“How sweet of you.”
Mark instructs me to make several turns before telling me to stop in front of a seedy brick apartment building.
“It’s nice,” I lie.
His shrug is casual, but the worry in his eyes is strong. “I keep telling her they need to move, but this is all they can afford for now.” He grabs his bag from the backseat and offers me a curt wave. “I’ll see you Sunday for brunch. Try not to keep the,” he mocks me with air quotes, “newly hot Kennedy up too late. Bea will hunt you two down if you don’t show. The girl has a thing for brunch.”
I let the hilarious fact Mark is discussing details of brunch slip through the crack. “We’ll be there. Send me the address, but I refuse to wake up before ten, so don’t expect us before then.” Mark slams the door. I roll down my window and shout, “I’m not kidding. We will not be there before ten.”
Mark glares at me through the windshield. “You’ll show up with a smile on your face, because if you don’t, I’ll kick your ass. This is important to Bea, so it’s important to me. Show up with bells and whistles, you got me?” He pats the hood and walks across the street.
Once he’s inside, I drive to The Plaza. The valet takes my keys and hands me my bag from the backseat. My family has stayed here since I was young.
“Mr. Black, how did I not know you were staying?” The middle-aged concierge asks as I pass. “Here’s your key, sir.”
The irony of him calling me sir is not lost on me. I should be used to it. Money makes people do irrational things like calling someone twenty-five years younger than them sir. As I step into the empty elevator, I take the key and offer a thank you. My usual suite has been prepared for my arrival. The minibar is stocked with Dr. Pepper, and a handwritten note states to let them know if I need anything else.
Only the best at The Plaza, I’ve heard my grandmother say a million and one times.
Kennedy’s going to love this place. The perfection of this hotel doesn’t swallow you whole, but it makes you believe in magic, makes the impossible seem possible. They have those two things in common.
New York is a city overpopulated with hopes and dreams. More times than I can count, I’ve pounded the concrete, rushing from class to work then back to class. My bare feet have danced in the grass in Central Park and in the middle of Time Square for my first New Year’s Eve here. I’ve even gone skydiving, but for some strange reason, I’m afraid to walk into this building.
At the same time, the fact he’s up there somewhere, anticipating my arrival, overjoys me. He’s probably pacing around the room, and pulling at his hair because he’s as impatient to see me as I am to see him.
After our amazing weekend reintroducing ourselves, we’ve only spent small blips of our lives on the phone. Calling every day doesn’t equate to too much in the real world, right? What am I even doing? Quit trying to psych yourself out.
The ominous hotel intimidates me so much, I contemplate hailing a cab back to my apartment. Things are finally at a good place with Graham and me. Now would be the time for the world to take another punch at us.