City Love(38)

“Well . . . I better go. Sunday is a busy day at the park.”

“Yeah, I have tons of errands. After which I get to spend all afternoon at the library!”

“Told you we were lucky.”

A scraggly guy wheeling a shopping cart filled with empty cans trudges past us. He bangs into Jude with no apology.

“Don’t say sorry or anything,” I retort.

“No worries. Crazy guys on the subway are much worse. At least you can escape on the street.”

I adjust my sunglasses, dreading the amount of reading I have to do today.

“So . . . when can I see you again?” Jude asks.

I feel bad that I have to say what I’m about to say. Jude looks so optimistic waiting for my answer. He won’t see it coming. Guilt swells up inside of me. I tamp it down. If I don’t protect myself, no one else will. Guilt will just have to understand.

“I don’t know.”

Jude’s face falls. “I thought you were kidding about there not being a next time.”

I know Jude is disappointed in me. So am I. I hate myself for doing this to him. But our chemistry is undeniable. He helps me forget about the ex. He makes me laugh. Plus he’s someone I can look up to. Jude is the kind of boy I could fall for so hard I wouldn’t know what hit me. Jude is the kind of boyfriend material girls search for.

Other girls. Not me.

“See you at the park?” I offer.

“I thought we were connecting.”

“We were. This isn’t about you. This is all me.”

Jude gives me a vague smile. “Okay, so . . . guess I’ll see you around,” he says.

I walk away from him before I change my mind.





EIGHTEEN

ROSANNA


THREE DAYS.

That’s how long I was able to resist calling D. Three whole days.

He called me the day after our date. I wasn’t home when he called. D said in his message that he was aware he shouldn’t be calling me so soon, but that he didn’t want to play games. He wanted to see me again.

I didn’t call him back right away.

Despite my best efforts to forget him, he’s been dominating my thoughts. Constantly. I can’t deny the intense attraction between us. Chemistry that strong is hard to ignore. But I should be ignoring it. I should be reminding myself that Donovan Clark is not the right guy for me. The guy I belong with isn’t all about money. He hasn’t had everything he’s ever wanted handed to him by his parents. The right guy for me will understand the value of hard work because he will have worked hard to build a life for himself. The thing is . . . D is the kind of guy who can be with anyone he wants. Smart, gorgeous, driven, successful guys are not easy to find. What if I’m turning away from a door that should be opened? What if he meets someone else and I still can’t stop thinking about him?

I broke down and called him this morning.

“Hey,” D said when he picked up.

“Hey.”

“I’m glad you called. I was starting to think I’d never hear from you.” A car horn beeped in the background.

“Where are you?”

“Walking home from the gym. Have you been out today?”

“No.”

“The heat wave has arrived. It’s hot as balls.”

I giggled at the balls reference.

“What are you doing tonight?” D asked.

“Um . . . staying in air-conditioning?”

“The friend I had plans with just canceled. Want to grab a drink?”

So here we are at Press Lounge, this trendy rooftop bar in Midtown. The bouncer asks for our ID.

“Here you go.” D shows the bouncer his ID. Then he slips him some cash. By the way D presses the folded bills neatly into the bouncer’s palm, I can tell he’s done this before. Money is clearly the main tool D uses to solve his problems.

The heat wave apparently didn’t get the memo that it’s almost dark out. It’s still broiling. The refreshing breeze I was hoping to find up on the roof isn’t here. It probably stayed home in the air-conditioning.

We’re seated on one of the love seats lining the perimeter of the roof. I overcome my nervousness enough to actually look around. Up until this moment it’s been all about keeping it together. Trying not to look too dorky. Attempting to blend in among the beautiful people. Brushing off the awkwardness of D having to bribe my way in. I’m so nervous I didn’t even notice the view. But now I do. And it takes my breath away.

You can see the whole city from up here. Press Lounge has 360-degree views. No part of Manhattan is off limits. Every neighborhood, every block, every building is within reach. I could even see my building if I looked hard enough. I take it all in. Hot summer night. Water towers illuminated with pink lights. Shimmering rooftop pool. All of New York sparkling below us. Being up here is such an amazing high I never want to leave.

“Just so you know,” I say, “this rooftop is my new home.”

“Nice choice.”

“Thanks. I’m moving in tomorrow.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“Oh, you know. . . .” I glance around at the clusters of tables, chairs, love seats, and banquettes. “Under that lounge chair is fine. I don’t require much.”