Page 141 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

She grins before some jackoff dressed in a tux dares to fucking touch her bare shoulder to get her attention. There’s more than one reason she’s watching me, so the fucker needs to take the hint and move along.

Of course, he doesn’t hear my internal tirade. I’m a gentleman, after all, and this is a party. My fists clench, but I keep walking, not looking to end this year in a fight or start the next one in jail.

She removes his hand from her body just before her eyes meet mine again and the slightest of grins graces her lips. She enjoys making me jealous, but it’s become more agonizing every day.

The woman may have been pampered her whole life, but I’ve learned firsthand that the last thing Marlow wants stepping into the mix is a man. She doesn’t let anybody into her life that easily, which has been one of the hurdles we’ve faced. So I know she can handle that situation without my assistance.

I’ve become a student, intent on learning everything about what makes her tick. I’ve spent our time together studying how the puzzle pieces of our lives might fit together. Or if it’s an impossibility.

I read her body language like a book, digging deeper into each of her expressions, the sounds of her pleasure, and most of her glances.

The way her eyes lock on mine, telling me she wants me without saying a word.

Her annoyance, seen in the roll of her eyes when I talk sports with the guys.

The impatience that embodies her tapping foot when she’s bored and ready to go to the next place.

Those are the simple ways she expresses herself.

It’s the soft lines on the outside corners of her eyes that make my chest tighten. I know the genuine smile that caused them is from something I said or the joy she feels. The gentle way she touches my leg when a meal with our friends has her feeling connected to me, even if short-lived. Even when she treats what we do as casual sex, I see through her.

Marlow Marché has started treating me in ways that allow wonder to creep in—what if we tried for more?I’m not opposed to this idea anymore, not like I used to be. In fact, with her, I’m beginning to like it.

A lot.

Little mysteries embody the parts of her left to discover, and I can’t wait to unravel every one of them.

“Jackson?”Fuck.“There you are,” Mr. Morgenstern starts. He’s a former client from when I was an advisor for Christiansen Wealth Management. We made a lot of money together. He also hosts one of the best parties in Manhattan. Not only did I score an invite but my five friends were also included. I wouldn’t have come if they weren’t, but I thought I’d actually get to spend time with them. I haven’t. Not so far.

I’ve been paraded around the place as Morgenstern’s golden ticket. But I need a break from the stale financial conversations I’ve been stuck in for the past two hours, looking for free advice.

“Do you have time to meet with a friend in the library? He’s in need of some good advice,” he asks.

I start backing through the crowd. “It’s almost midnight, and I promised my friends?—”

He checks his watch. “Ah.Yes. Go. I need to find my wife. She’ll kill me if I don’t kiss her.”

I escape, leaving him there mumbling about Argentina 1986. Sounds like that was the only time he’d made the mistake of not kissing his wife at the stroke of midnight.

Tugging at the sleeve of my dress shirt, I straighten the cuff as I trek through the party toward the large balcony. Large being the distinguishing factor from the other three this apartment has.

When I push through the door, the gang is almost back together. As best friends since college, we always kick off the new year together. Rad, Tealey, Cade, Cammie, and me. We’re onlymissing Marlow. I’m hoping she’ll be here in time, but we didn’t set anything in stone. We never do.

A wink.

A nod.

A subtle insinuation.

That’s usually enough for the other to get the hint to move behind closed doors. Even when subtle, she knows the signals without me making a production. I don’t have to chase her down just like she doesn’t do that to me, but when I look back, she’s not coming.Yet.

Should I sneak back in to help her free herself from the crowd, or should I disappear to avoid being stood up?Maybe.

Whatever I decide, I need to figure it out fast. That or be stuck with couples kissing all around me while I stand alone at midnight twiddling my thumbs. Or staring at me, like they are now, which makes me think it’s too late to make a break for it. “Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” Rad replies, moving his arm from his fiancée Tealey’s waist to her shoulder.

The few inches separating Cade and Cammie is the most distance I’ve seen between the newlyweds since they got married a few months ago. Then she resettles against his side as if she couldn’t take it, and says, “Hi.”

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