Page 144 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

She smiles coyly. “I thought we just rang it in.”

“No. We’re just getting started.”

CHAPTER 2

Jackson

New Year’s Eve traffic is a mood killer.

Reaching over, I take hold of Marlow’s hand and kiss it. Her body has never been off-limits for the gesture. Only the intimacy of her mouth. I don’t have issues with boundaries, but now that the flood gates have opened,damn, I want to kiss her again. Since we have some time to kill, we might as well dive right in. “We kissed back there.”

A flirtatious grin appears. “We did, and now I’m wondering why we weren’t doing it all along.”

“You’re reading my mind.”

Ironic. I’ve always found her quite difficult to read. She’s the queen of hearts with a million walls surrounding her like a fortress. Untouchable in so many ways, except when we’re alone . . . or maybe it’s only when she’s lonely.

She licks her lips, and I can’t stop staring at them. Remembering the delicate taste of champagne as it lingered, a hint of something sweet when our tongues touched for the first time, I drag my tongue over my lower lip in hopes of tasting heragain. Fuck, I’m getting hard from the tease and start to wonder if kissing is even on the table or if New Year’s Eve is just a special occasion. “We’ve kissed before.”

“Not like that.”

“No, not like that.” Another car honks its horn at us. Our driver flips him off while grumbling up front about staying in his own lane.

I look around, making sure the situation won’t escalate, and then sit back when I see the other driver turn to take a different route.

“We have bad timing,” Marlow says, picking up where we left off.

Finding her eyes in the cab's darkness, I ask, “You and me?”

“No, the traffic. We should have left earlier to avoid it.”

I nod, catching on. “Right. Is there ever a good time?”

“For us?” I swear I detect a note of hope in her tone.

As much as I like hearing that, I chuckle because we both seem to be a little confused tonight. Is that what kissing does? It’s rattled me in a good way.Wonder how she feels about it?“There’s never smooth sailing in Manhattan traffic.”

She looks out the window, making it hard to read anything about her, so I hold tighter to the hope I heard and her hand. I rest our bond on my leg, which brings her attention back to me. She says, “Don’t worry, Jackson. We’ll get there eventually.”

Her words have new meaning under the earlier intimacy of kissing. Not sure what to say under the curious gaze she’s laid on me, except, “Happy New Year.”

Her grasp tightens, and her head tilts. “Happy New Year.” She slides across the back seat until she’s close, close like Cammie and Cade get, and Rad and Tealey.

For a small moment in time, it feels like we’re that couple. Or could be.

When I release her hand and lift my arm, she snuggles against me, and says, “New Year’s Eve should only be allowed on weekends.” She laughs to herself. Sitting up suddenly, she angles toward me. “I sound so old. When did we get old?”

“Somewhere between graduating and being able to stay out all night partying to bumping up against thirty and being tired before one o’clock on New Year’s Eve, I suppose.”

“Changes in jobs.” She rests back again, her head on my shoulder.

“Living on our own.”

She nods. “So true.” Adjusting her head, she’s closer, if that’s possible. She looks up at me. “Do you ever get lonely?”

I realize that’s what tonight was about—my wandering thoughts, questioning what I should be doing with my life relationship-wise, and feeling like a fifth wheel with my best friends for the first time. It’s a lot to digest. I tighten my arm around her and admit the truth. “Sometimes, I guess. I thought you liked living in that big apartment? Isn’t that why you’re trying to stay there?”

Discomfort slumps her shoulders momentarily, and a shaky breath is released. “I’m trying to stay because I have nowhere to go.”

---