Page 81 of Maid For Each Other

26

Vanilla

Declan

I was a relatively impatient person, so normally tourists in Manhattan kind of got on my nerves. They walked too slow, looked around too much while stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, and talked about everything way too excitedly.

But there was something about Abi’s reaction to everything that was like freebased serotonin.

She’d seemed nervous at my apartment, when she was putting her luggage in the guest room and it was just the two of us, and I suspected she was second-guessing her decision.

Which I totally understood.

I’d been asking myself over and over again, since I got the damn tickets, what the hell I was doing.

Was this entanglement a good idea?

I was basically just following the urge to be with her, the enjoyment of being around her, but did I want it to go anywhere?

That was what I needed to figure out.

I’d been out of the dating pool for a long time because I had no patience for bullshit, but I liked the idea of Abi in my life. She was funny and smart and easy to be with, so having her in my life as a friend would be great.

But I couldn’t deny the attraction and the chemistry, especially when the kisses we’d shared were always on my mind. Twenty-four-fucking-seven.

Dear God, the woman had gotten under my skin.

But I was also a practical person and could absolutely work around feelings even if they didn’t make sense.

So I guess inviting her here was my attempt to make it make sense.

“If I lived in Manhattan, I would come here every day,” she said, standing on top of the rock and looking out over the Central Park pond. “I mean, just look at that.”

She pointed out in the direction of Midtown.

“Yes, I’ve seen it,” I said, wanting to laugh. “And I run here in the morning when it’s nice out.”

“You do?” she asked, looking surprised. “It’s nowhere near your place, though, is it?”

“No, but it’s near my office,” I said. “So Leonard takes me to the park early, I run, and then I head into work.”

“Seriously?” she asked, her eyes all lit up like I’d just confessed to riding a golden unicorn to work each morning.

“Seriously,” I said, nodding and letting myself imagine her going with me. “It’s nice in the fall.”

“God,” she said on a sigh, shaking her head. “Running in Central Park in the fall; what a dream.”

“We’d walk if you lived here, Mariano,” I said, nudging herwith my elbow. “I’d only let you run in summer, when the ragweed wouldn’t torture your lungs.”

Her smile went away, and she looked up at me with a wrinkle in her forehead.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“That’s not me being controlling,” I backtracked, realizing my words. “I know I’m not the boss of you.”

“I know.” She blinked fast a few times, like she was thinking, and then she said, “What are we doing for dinner?”

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