Page 185 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

It’s my turn to shrug. “She needed a place to stay.”

“It was nice of you to offer your bed.”

I throw the ball at him. “Funny guy.”

“What can I say? I’m funny.” When he tosses the ball in the air between us, I catch it.

“Are we playing?” Rad asks, getting annoyed from the court.

Cade stands. “Maybe one more game.”

He tries to swat the ball out of my hands, but I make a fast break and then sidestep around Rad to dunk it. “Piece of cake.”

Rad grabs the ball, throws it to Cade, and says, “Now try when I’m not on my phone.”

Fucking hell.

I stand when Marlow walks into the living room as if she didn’t just knock the breath right out of me. Long legs with black sky-high heels, the blue dress that matches her eyes hits mid-thigh and wraps over one shoulder. Holding her bag in one hand, she spins. “How do I look?”

“I thought you wanted to go out?” I tease, hoping to the high heavens that this woman will change her mind and want to stay in . . . in bed, that is.

Her brows pull together in concern. “We are.” And then her expression loosens into a carefree smile. Beautiful. “Ah.” She laughs as she comes closer. Lifting to her toes, she kisses me.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to staying home with you looking that good.”

“Only good, St. James?” She straightens my jacket, picking a piece of lint from the lapel.

I grab her, pulling her against me so she can feel just how good I think she looks. Squeezing the rounds of that sweet ass, I take in her face. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and here she’s looking at me like I’m something special. What kind of crazy world do we live in? Her breathing shortens, and she says, “My lipstick is an all-day wear and stays on.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I want to put it to the test. Kiss me, Jackson.”

I do as the lady requests. I kiss her and slide a hand into her hair. I tilt her head back so we can deepen it until our tongues are tangling, and our bodies are grinding against each other. “We can’t,” she says, pulling back and lowering her heelsto the floor again. “I don’t want to miss this. We rarely go out on Saturdays as a group anymore. I’m sorry, do you mind?”

“No. I mean, yes.” I crack a smile. “I want to make love to you, but going out will be fun, too.”

Her eyes stare into mine as if she’s searching for a lie that she’ll never find. I said what I said about making love to her, and I meant it. She clutches her bag tight in her hands and then shoots me a mischievous grin before walking toward the door and slipping on her coat.

“Hey, Marlow?” Stopping to look back over her shoulder, she finds my eyes across the room. “You look beautiful.”

A sweet smile finds its rightful place, and she says, “Thanks.” Nodding toward the door, she holds out her hand. “You ready?”

“As ready as ever.”

I lock up, and we start down the short hall. I’ve already learned that we don’t take the stairs if she’s in heels, which is most of the time. I punch the button. Standing in silence isn’t awkward. We’ve found comfort in just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice to be with someone you don’t have to entertain all the time like most women I date.

The elevator door slides open, and the eyes of the high school girl from the tenth floor widen when she sees me.Like always.A smile starts to embed in her expression until her gaze shifts to my left, and then annoyance takes over her face, and she moves to the corner of the elevator.

“Hello,” Marlow says, stepping on.

The girl stares at her shoes and replies, “Evening.”

With our fingers still intertwined, Marlow doesn’t even flinch from the exchange.

I say, “Good evening,” to her as the polite thing to do, but her eyes meet mine briefly until I’m situated next to Marlow. The door closes, and now it’s awkward. We haven’t descendedeven two floors when Marlow moves closer, pressing our arms together.

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