Chapter 9

Elsa

“That went well, don’t you think?”

Tanner asks me this as if he’s been manning a PowerPoint presentation at a meeting instead of manhandling me in a public park.

I square my shoulders and try to put myself back in business mode as we walk side by side.

“Yes. Enough affection to show we’re serious, while still leaving them.”

I look down from his triumphant grin to his still-tight pants—wanting more.

We reach the entrance of the park. Our work here is done. Now would be a good time for us to go our separate ways.

Instead, Tanner grabs my hand in front of everyone and leads me through the front gates like the grand marshal in a sex parade.

I keep my head down, hiding my flushed face, as we weave through the crowd. If he sees how hot and bothered I am, I will be very bothered.

I lean in and whisper, “Is the reporter still watching us?”

“Nope.”

“Is anybody else watching us?”

Tanner laughs. “It’s New York City—no one else gives a shit what we do in public.”

“But they will when they see the pictures, right?”

He stops to inspect me from head to toe, and I squirm under his gaze.

“If the pictures look half as good as you do right now, with your rumpled clothes and your lipstick smeared all over your sexy mouth, they are going to lose their minds.”

“So, we can go then?” I’m not smiling. I’m not.

“Sure. If you’ll let me walk you home.”

And no, my heart doesn’t leap when he squeezes my hand. That’s just a street musician playing the steel drums.

As soon as we turn the corner, I try to slip my hand from his grip, but he holds tight.

“Pretend you like me. It’s only a few more blocks.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

He stops me at the crosswalk. As the cars stream by, he lets go of my hand and slips his arm around my shoulder, drawing me in. I don’t hug him back, but I don’t pull away.

“Well, for starters, when I hold you, you should lean in.”

“Like Sheryl Sandberg?”

He chuckles. “Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

People are bumping into us and cursing as they fight their way to the crosswalk. But Tanner just stands there, looking down at me as if we’re the only two people on the sidewalk. He seems to enjoy being an inconvenience to me and everyone around us, his gray eyes sparkling as he gives me a half smile.

Finally, I lean in and rest my head against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his hard chest against my cheek and the scent of his cologne. His arm is so strong, but he holds me gently, sliding his hand from my shoulder to the curve between my waist and my hip.

My mind flashes back to my teenage years when the only way to have any sort of privacy was to leave the house. I’d take whatever affection I could get away with, wherever I could get away with it—inside a dark movie theater, in the back seat of a car, behind the claw machine at the arcade—and be home before curfew.

Except now, I’m a grown woman and I can stay out all night if I want to. And I definitely want to.

“Green light,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?”

“The street just cleared. We should cross now.”

Damn him. I knock his arm off my shoulder and charge ahead. Behind me, a yellow taxi cuts him off and leaves him waiting at the sidewalk.

“Elsa! Wait!” he yells, as I cross the street without him.

I cup my mouth with my hands and blast his words back in his face, “Pretend you like me. It’s only a few more blocks.”

“What does that mean?”

“Chase me!”

I break into a jog—best I can in heels—and put enough distance between us that he’ll have to sprint to catch up with me. I don’t dare look back. I know Tanner is following me because I can hear the pounding of his footsteps and the occasional “Watch it!” from some unfortunate pedestrian in his path.

My apartment is several blocks away, but the distance is short. I run past the doormen with fancy white gloves and the ladies with tiny, white dogs. No one seems to notice me streaking by with a gorgeous man behind me in hot pursuit.

Everyone around here is in too much of a hurry.

Finally, I stop in front of my building, panting and resting my hands on my knees.

My hair straightener has died of heat stroke, leaving my crazy hair to poof its way out of its silky straight jacket and curl up in the humid air. If I looked disheveled before, I must look insane right now.

I catch my breath and start giggling.

Tanner has slowed to a stroll and is now approaching me with his hands in his pockets. He’s pretending not to be winded, but his tie has flipped over his shoulder, and beads of sweat have formed on his brow. I hate that he’s composed and sexy even when he’s out of breath.

“There you are,” he says.

“Here I am.”

We stare at each other in silence for a brief moment, neither one of us knowing how to say goodbye or when.

Meanwhile, angry-looking clouds are forming overhead. On a humid day in New York City, the weather can change from hot and sticky to soaking wet in an instant. With a rumble and a groan, the clouds burst open.

We’re still standing there, staring silently at each other, but now, we’re doing it in the rain.

I don’t have an umbrella, and neither does he. Perfect.

“It is perfect.” Tanner lifts his face to the sky and lets the water cool him. “It’s just like that movie.”

“Which one?”

“Uh...” He stops to think. “You know, the one with the girl and the guy who are doing the thing, and then they hear thunder...”

He knows I know he’s bluffing, and he laughs. He moves toward me, puts his hands on my hips and backs me slowly up the steps, guiding me with his feet and stopping me just under the awning where the water can’t reach me. Though it’s still warm out, I shiver a bit as my wet clothes cling to my skin.

Tanner brushes my hair out of my face, cups my chin with two hands, and traces my lower lip with the tip of his thumb.

“They gaze into each other’s eyes,” he whispers a line from the non-existent movie, as he looks at me, his eyes stormy with desire. He leans in just a little. “And then they kiss in the rain.”

“Nope. I don’t think I’ve seen that one.” I’m smiling for real this time. And I don’t care if he sees it.

“Then you won’t mind if I spoil the ending for you.”

Tanner leans in even closer. I can feel his hot breath against mine. I can practically taste his lips.

My heart is pounding with excitement. My legs are wobbly. I’m going to need to lie down soon—and take his hot, wet body to bed with me.

But just before we make contact, he stops.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I want you to ask me, Elsa. Make me feel wanted. Ask me to come up.”

I know he’s toying with me, but at this point, I don’t care. I’m the kind of woman who knows how to ask for what she wants, and he’s the kind of man who knows how to give it to me.

“I...I want you.”

My voice comes out soft and plaintive, not sultry like I’d hoped. But he’s hanging on my every word.

“I want you to come up.” Because it’s true, I really do. “Please come inside.”

“Really?”

I reach behind me and push the buzzer to be let in. “Really.”

Tanner gives me a cocky smile. He backs away from me and shrugs.

“Maybe next time,” he says.

He leaves me standing on the stoop, breathless and confused.

With a click, the door unlocks. I grab the handle to keep it from closing.

I give him one more chance to say he’s kidding. To say he’s coming in. To say he’s mine.

I begin the countdown in my head: five, four, three, two…

“Goodnight, Elsa.”

I don’t bother to respond. I turn around, open the door, and head up the stairs to my apartment.

Alone.