Page 106 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“I have a better idea,” I assure her, and I do. But it almost doesn’t involve coffee. “Go get dressed, I’ll stall Hammer.”

A pang in my heart signals my fear that Alexandra might not come back, but for the sake of both of us, I bury the feeling.

If a “maybe” made her like this, imagine if she knew how much I wanted our time in that basement to never end.

***

While Hammer and two other security guards search the parking lot after I made sure I saw strange movements out there, the ride Alexandra ordered picks us up at the building’s gate.

“Good afternoon. Top of the Rock?” the man with a Spanish accent asks, and I nod.

“I feel like a criminal,” Alexandra comments, sitting as far from me as possible, and I know she’s talking about our clothes.

I repeat my disguise with the cap, glasses, and high-collared overcoat. Alexandra has red lips from her lipstick, a high classic bun with dark jeans, a white turtleneck underneath her beige wool-lined overcoat. She’s the most beautiful criminal in all of Manhattan. Instead of commenting on it, I say:

“It’s supposed to feel like that, you called the car, I can claim I was kidnapped.”

“Oh, sure, because I would kidnap the guy who lives with me,” she says, holding back a laugh, but less tense. “Anyway, if this place isn’t nice, maybe you’ll be without a ride back.”

“Challenge accepted!”

Alex takes her phone out of her pocket trying to look busy. I stay silent, aware that this is an attempt to fill a space that would otherwise be taken by our usual banter.

We leave the edge of the Hudson River and head through the streets of Manhattan, the windows closed, muffling the hustle and bustle around us. I watch her as the cityscape passes by the window. As we approach Rockefeller Plaza, theintensity of New York fades behind us, and the car takes us to a quieter, more intimate place.

“Dani and Bia invited me to do something next week…” She stares at her phone like it’s a venomous creature. “Do you have anything with the boys?”

“We have a photoshoot and a cocktail with the label people in L.A. on Wednesday. But we’ll be back that night, we need to try on the wardrobe for the rest of the tour, and Friday we have a show here in NY,” I mention, and just thinking about it, I already feel tired.

“Wow, the life of a popstar,” she jokes. “I had no idea that your clothes were chosen by other people.”

“They’re not chosen, they’re sponsored. We’ll be changing the wardrobe for winter.”

“And that won’t mean anything, right? Because I don’t think you guys will perform in hoodies or Michelin-man coats.”

My laugh fills the car, and even the driver chuckles quietly when she mocks the puffer jackets, which, for sure, will make her look like a very charming snowball.

“We wear these clothes outside the stage too, but stop stalling me, let’s talk about your date with the girls. Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet... I would have to go to L.A. with you, they’ll be there too,” Alexandra says it inthattone: the one people use when they’re just waiting for the right moment to pull out last-minute plans and cancel.

“That could be really fun, you know? They’re great.”

“I know, I just found the invitation weird.”

“I like that they invited you,” I say, touching her face, and she tilts her head to look at me. “You’re family now. Go with them and have fun.”

“That word doesn’t make things very exciting, but I should go.”

Alexandra pulls her face away from my finger, adjusts herself on the seat, and without saying anything else, she watches the street for the rest of the ride.

We arrive at Rockefeller Plaza just before five, and I smile — everything according to my plan. We walk toward the building, farther apart than I’d like, and I’ve never thought that our silences, which have always been so comfortable, could hurt.

The elevator that will take us to the top of the building awaits us in all its grandeur, but I promised a coffee to my girl.

To herI mean.

We walk to one in the Rockefeller Center, and I order two hot chocolates. The best thing to order when we’re not sure about the quality of the coffee.

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