Page 50 of Last First Love
He shakes his head and turns away. "I'm an asshole too. I'm sorry I've been so hard on you tonight. There's some stuff going on in my life and it's making me difficult to be around."
I nod. "Years of celibacy will do that to a man."
At that, finally he turns to me with a crooked grin. "Yeah? How would you know? From your own years of celibacy? Did you not manage toseal the dealwith the one and only Lily?"
I squirm at his words. I'm beyond ashamed of ever thinking about her that way. She's way better than that, and I was willing to lump her into the same hit and run category as Lipstick. And possibly Sidekick. And what on earth is wrong with me that I can't even remember which of the women who were angry at me earlier I'd taken to bed?
"Please don't." I pat the chair next to me. "How about you sit down and pretend you don't hate me for a little while? I'll quit talking about Lily."
He shakes his head. "No, you won't. But I'm going to quit putting my crappy mood on you. I'm not really mad at you at all. It's something else."
I turn to him. "You can really tell me. I won't tell anyone." I flinch. "Unlike what I did to Lily." I huff out a sharp breath. "Oh man, I really messed this up. Last time I take ideas from my dick."
Aaron gives me a look like he's not sure whether I'm kidding or not. "Did you say you took advice from your dick about how to deal with Lily?"
Okay, it sounds really, really stupid when it's said out loud like that. "I do a lot of my best thinking naked."
Aaron shakes his head. "Apparently not."
"Hey," I say, more than a little bit offended. "Don't you ever figure things out in the shower?"
He shakes his head like I've spoken in gibberish. "I don't get naked to solve my problems. Nobody should. Solve your problems with your pants on and you'll be less likely to make stupid decisions in the future."
I nod slowly. "Okay. That's actually really good advice."
Aaron nods and stares out the grimy little window this time. "I should have followed it myself. Then it wouldn't be so rough right now."
"You ready to talk about it?" I reach out for his shoulder, and give him a gentle, very bro-mantic squeeze.
"No," he answers flatly. "Let's get back to drinking and pretending we haven't ruined our own lives."
I lift my beer. "I'll definitely drink to that." But my mistake keeps circling around in my brain like an underfed piranha, and I know I'm going to have to figure out how to make it right with Lily. This time, with my pants on.
Lily
New York is full of people. Hordes of them everywhere, roaming the sidewalks at all hours of the day and night, their voices rising and falling in a swirl around me of all different languages. My very favorite thing to do in New York is sit down and get busy with some people watching.
But even with this swarm of people milling all around me, I feel lonely while I'm sitting at a cafe table in Times Square with giant waves of people scurrying everywhere. There are so many different people all doing different things. Some of them are dressed up for work, some are wearing party clothes for a date, and some are clearly struggling. A group of moms go by with their strollers lined up like they’re in charge of an actual army of babies, ready to take on the city.
I nibble at my churros and wonder for the one millionth time if I can really make a city like this my home. I'd never really thought about myself as a big city type, but in order to make a go of any sort of future in fashion photography, I'll need to work on being a city girl. Besides, there are many worse fates than dim sum for lunch.
I want to call home, but who would I call there? I can't exactly talk to my brother about this because he has way too many opinions on the topic. Starting and ending with the idea that I should come home and pretend like what I have in Valentine is good enough for me. And it's not like I have a bad life. Especially not with Girl Club and the suddenness of having a group of female friends in my life, but I don't want to have a life that's filled with regrets.
Kind of like why I went for it with Ken Daniels. I didn't want to miss out on seeing what it would be like with him, and the only bad thing was everything that happened afterwards.
Even the little spicy kick to the chocolate dipping sauce isn't enough to take my mind completely off the utter disaster that followed my one extra hot night with the guy I'd always crushed on from afar. Even when I stick my fingertip in the sauce and apply it directly to my tongue, it doesn't help.
But you know what's amazing about New York City? Nobody here is giving me that look. You know, the fat girl eating in public look. Not one single solitary person has given me even a second glance here, and it's both thrilling but also a little oddly unsatisfying. I take a good look at myself, but nope. I haven't disappeared, even if it feels like I have.
It's been a fun week and I've been busy meeting with different fashion houses and even a handful of agencies, but now I'm done with the business and the sightseeing, and it's almost time to go back home and figure out what's next. I'm tempted all over again to call someone, anyone and see if the hubbub about me and Daniels has died down yet, but I don't think I could handle hearing that it hasn't.
I pick up my phone and fiddle with it a little, when a stranger comes close enough that he blocks the sun from my screen. I look up to see what he's doing this close to me, and my eyes drift up his lean, toned body to his pretty boy face.
"You mind if I sit down?" He gestures at the chair near mine and I give him a hostess-y gesture to help himself to the empty seat.
He flashes me a toothpaste ad smile. "How long are you visiting for?"
I'm sure I'm blushing again because apparently there's something obvious enough about me that even a complete stranger can tell that I'm a tourist. I briefly toy with the idea of pretending that I live here, but given that I know almost nothing about New York other than the tourist sites I visited, it's probably not worth messing with this guy.
