34. New York, New York

34

New York, New York

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Did what?”

Mira momentarily lost her train of thought, watching as Will carefully licked a trail of melting ice cream off the side of his waffle cone before it could reach his hand. Maybe she could drip melted ice cream on herself and he could—

“Did what?” he repeated. He took another swipe at his ice cream and she couldn’t decide if she was glad he’d decided on a cone or not, because watching him lick it for the past ten minutes was getting her really worked up and they were a long way from their hotel room. His lips, his tongue …

“Oh. Dinner. We just went out to dinner. Together. In public.”

He shrugged. “We can do it all the time, if you want. And not just at little no-name restaurants in Brooklyn, where no one is going to recognize me.”

She poked at her own ice cream with her spoon. “Will …”

“I’m just saying, we’ve got two more nights. Let me take you out someplace nice tomorrow. Who gives a fuck who sees us?”

“Will.”

“I’m serious, Mira. This whole week, all these lunches and receptions I’ve had with sponsors … I really hated that you weren’t with me.”

“I know.”

This trip hadn’t been exactly the romantic getaway of her dreams. His days had been full of meetings with sponsors, none of which she could go to, so she’d spent most days knocking around the city on her own. Every time he had to leave he asked her to come. And every time, she’d said no.

She was so happy with Will. Every minute they’d managed to steal together in New York had been blissful. But when she imagined the world finding out about them, she was gripped with an elemental terror that she couldn’t talk herself out of.

They tossed out the wrappers from their ice cream. “Just say the word, Mira, and it’s Jean-Georges tomorrow. Or Per Se. Or whichever is the best right now. We’ll get dressed up and do it right.”

“You know I don’t need stuff like that to have fun with you, right? Tonight … in that back garden of that restaurant in Brooklyn was perfect.”

“It was.” He smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on. Night’s not over yet. Let’s walk over the bridge.”

They’d already taken a big risk, going out to dinner tonight. If they were smart, they’d grab a cab back to the hotel now. But she could never seem to hang on to her smart, sensible side around Will. It was a beautiful, warm summer night and he was right here in front of her looking absolutely edible in jeans and a T-shirt, and she wanted to enjoy him as much as she possibly could for as long as it lasted.

“Let’s go.”

The pedestrian walkway was crowded with people, and Will, a baseball cap covering that gorgeous head of dark hair, barely stood out. The sun was low over the horizon, setting New York Harbor afire with colors. At the center of the bridge, they stopped and found a spot along the railing, staring out across the water.

“It’s so beautiful,” she sighed.

When she glanced at him, he was facing her, and the look in his eyes made her heart tumble over in her chest. He reached out to tuck a curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the side of her face. His expression shifted, and he licked his lips. Her chest tightened, feeling like something momentous was about to happen, like he was about to say the words that had been fighting to burst out of her all week. “Mira—”

“Hey, you’re Will Hawley! I can’t believe it!”

She startled, jerking around. It was a young guy, maybe sixteen, and British. She cursed herself silently. Some anonymous restaurant in Brooklyn was one thing. The Brooklyn Bridge was packed with tourists from abroad, and a lot of them probably watched racing. They’d been so stupid.

Will tugged the front of his baseball cap down instinctively. “I, ah …”

The kid raised his phone. “Can I take your picture? My mates’ll never believe I saw you here!”

She reached out for Will’s arm in a panic. “No!”

Immediately, he stepped in front of her and reached for the kid’s phone. “Here, we’ll do a selfie.”

“Seriously?”

Will turned the kid the other way, angling his phone at their faces and away from her. She finally exhaled, turning her back to them and keeping her head down. Will exchanged a few words with the starstruck racing fan and then sent him on his way. He came to join her, leaning his elbows on the railing.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. The sneaking around, the subterfuge, the lying. I mean, my dad thinks I’m in Thailand with Violet!” She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “You wouldn’t have to do any of this if you were here with anyone else.”

He was quiet for a minute. Then he shifted closer until his shoulder was pressed against hers. Slowly he reached out and took her hand in his, threading their fingers together. “You know I don’t want to be here with anyone else, Mira. Just you. But I want all of you. The daytime hours, too. I’m tired of pretending you don’t exist when …” He exhaled hard, staring out over the water. “When I’m thinking about you all the fucking time.”

It was just what she wanted to hear, but the way he said it—defeated and mad—made her feel terrible .

“You know how complicated this is for me.”

“I get it. You’ve been through shit I can’t even imagine. But—”

“I know. Hiding isn’t going to make everything magically better.”

“Look, what if you just start with your dad?”

She sputtered a laugh, imagining Will coming to meet her dad before a date, like some old TV show from the fifties. Her dad would be the hardest place to start. “You’re ready to face my dad? Really?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” He paused, looking at her uncertainly. “Unless you’re not? If you don’t think—”

“No.” She grabbed at his forearms. “It’s not just my dad, Will. It’s everyone. A lot of ugly stuff is going to get stirred up again the minute my name is attached to yours. Are you ready for that?”

He scoffed. “Ugly press is my specialty, remember?”

She squeezed his hand with hers. “But you shouldn’t have to deal with it. It’s not fair to you.”

“Hey.” He took her face in his hands, heedless of who might see them. “It’s not fair to you that you ever had to deal with it at all, especially when you were just sixteen. I’m a grown-up. I can handle it. For you, I want to.”

How could she keep denying him when he was looking at her like that? When he was telling her how much she meant to him? She didn’t want to hide anymore either. She wanted to tell the world she was in love with Will, because she was. Hopelessly in love with him. What she had with him was worth whatever she had to face. The time for fear was over.

“Okay, when we get back, I’ll tell my dad.”

He grinned, pulling out his phone and holding it up to her. “Hang on. Say that again so I can record it as proof.”

“I can take one of both of you, if you want.” They turned to look at the smiling older woman who’d been passing by.

Will looked at her in question.

Mira took a deep breath. “That would be great. Thanks.”

Will handed the woman his phone and slipped his arm around her shoulders. After the woman had left, Will showed her the photo. She stared down at the glowing screen, at their faces pressed together and their wide smiles, with his arm around her and the sunset over the harbor and the Manhattan skyline behind them. They both looked so happy, just a guy and a girl out having fun. Just a guy and a girl, falling in love.