Page 46 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

“Don’t change a thing. You always look great.”

Looking down at my blue yoga pants and baggy NYU sweatshirt, I reason that I’ve looked worse.

As if he senses the debate in my head, he says, “I know this little hole-in-the-wall place. Good food. Dim lights. Great company.”

I grin, heading to the bedroom to retrieve my purse. “You had me at dim lights.”

When I snatch my bag from the dresser, I catch a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror that hangs above it. Little makeup survived the day, but for some reason, I’ve never felt more beautiful.

When I walk back out, he already has the elevator waiting. Stepping inside, I lean against the back railing. “You coming, Welly?”

Biting his lip, he releases it, allowing a grin to spread. “Right there with you, Bell.”

14

Tealey

“No one expects hot dogs. You know, like the Spanish Inquisition? Monty Python?” My shoulders drop when my joke doesn’t land, and I shake it off. “Never mind.” I take a big bite and then wipe the bun crumbs from the corner of my mouth. “Guess you weren’t a fan.”

“I didn’t watch a lot of TV growing up. I played the hell out ofGrand Theft Auto,though. My mom would have killed me if she’d known.”

“Never played. More of a reader, in general, myself. Basically, a total nerd.”

“I doubt that. And even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with being studious.”

Mustard splats his shirt. “Fuck,” Rad grumbles when an air bubble loosens from the pump. “There goes this shirt.” He doesn’t let it deter him, and he covers his dog with precision.

“Good gracious, Rad. Save some mustard for the other customers.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs, dipping his tongue out to lick a splat on the back of his hand. “I like mustard.”

“Understatement of the year. Do you like hot dogs because I’m not sure you have enough for that much condiment usage?”

“Hey. Hey,” he says, nudging me lightly. “I didn’t judge your lack of condiments.” He feigns offense behind a teasing grin and cold shoulder, hiding his hot dog from me. “Leave my mustard alone, Bell.”

Laughing, I grab my root beer and head for a table by a window. When he sits down, I say, “Fine. Since you bought dinner, I’ll honor your drowning-in-condiments-hot dog-loving-ways by making this an official hot dog judge-free zone.” I take another bite of my condiment-free-best-way-to-eat-a-hot dog late-night dinner and moan in pleasure.

His lips twist as he uses his dog to point at mine. “Not judging, but why do you eat your dog plain?”

“Condiments have a time and place?—”

“Seems like a hot dog would be the right place to pack on some mustard or ketchup. Relish. Onions. Get crazy with the sauerkraut. Look around. It’s the right time to live on the edge and smother that meat.”

Bursting out laughing, I cover my mouth, but it’s too late. All manners are gone as I lean back, holding my stomach. “Oh my God.” I choke down what I’m chewing and then start coughing. Shoving a napkin over my mouth, I’m still in hysterics, trying to catch my breath. “There will be no,” I try to speak, waving my finger, “meat smothering tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, dropping his head in shame. A chuckle shakes his shoulders, and then he starts laughing too. “This never leaves the two of us.”

“No way. The girls will get a kick out of it.”

Scrubbing his hand over his face, he peeks over it at me. “Kill me now then. If they know, Jackson and Cade know.”

Unguarded and a bit bashful, I’m seeing a new side of Rad, one that’s more carefree and closer to how he was in college. The last of the giggles peter out, and I take a sip of my soda. Still hunched over with my elbows on the table, I rest my chin in my hand, unable to stop smiling. “This is fun.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we came out, even if I did have to endure your mocking.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, Counselor.” Looking around the low-key restaurant, I sit up. “I didn’t take you for the hot dog–shop type, so I have a feeling living together might be eye-opening.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

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