Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ALLEY
THEN
I wheel my suitcase through the swarm of people at Chicago O’Hare. It’s December thirtieth, and the airport is packed. I make my way toward passenger pickup, relieved I don’t have to deal with finding a ride. Michael insisted someone come get me. He texted this morning to say Leo would be here.
Leo’s great company. He’s easy to talk to and fun to be around. I’ve always gotten along with him.
Michael’s five years older than me and moved out when I was still in middle school.
Even then, he always made an effort to stay close—coming home on weekends, sometimes with friends in tow.
He was so good about keeping our relationship strong, even when he could’ve easily ignored his bratty little sister.
He’d take me to breakfast or lunch, invite me to games in his dorm, or bring Leo and Adam over for dinner. Nothing big, but it meant the world to me—especially after Mom was diagnosed with cancer and Dad started slipping in his recovery.
Michael stepped up, hardcore. I was too young to fully appreciate it then, but now I know how lucky I am to have him. Michael is the best brother anyone could ask for.
I dig through my purse for my phone to tell Leo which passenger pickup I’ll be at. When I pull it out, he’s already texted me.
Leo
Hey Al, I’m here. Black BMW. Let me know where you’ll be.
I quickly text him back, pausing by the door to pull on my coat. I take a deep breath before heading outside, bracing myself for the Chicago cold.
The air smacks me in the face, stealing my breath. You think you know cold—then you come to the Midwest and realize you don’t. Please hurry, I silently beg. My fingers already feel like they’re going to fall off, and I’ve only been outside for fifteen seconds.
Leo’s car pulls up just as I reach the curb. He pops the trunk and hops out, rushing to grab my bag.
“Go get warm, love. I’ve got this,” Leo says, effortlessly picking it up and tossing it in.
“Thanks, Leo.” I’m already sliding into the front seat before he even shuts the trunk. My hands fly to the heat vents, the hot air blasting my tingling, frozen skin.
Leo slides in and adjusts the vents toward me. “Is it warm enough? I turned the seat heater on for you.” His charming British accent carries a familiarity I didn’t realize I’d missed. It’s comforting, nostalgic. And it’s been a while since I’ve felt that.
“It’s perfect, thanks. You’d think I would remember how cold it is, but I always seem to forget.”
Leo chuckles. “I don’t blame you for trying to forget.” He flashes me a grin. “How the hell are you? It’s been a long time.”
“It has been a long time. I was bummed I couldn’t make it for Michael’s birthday. I’m good, though.” I pause, letting that truth sweep through me. “Really good, actually.”
“Yeah? Michael told me you’re seeing someone. Wait—it’s Matt’s friend, right?” Leo glances over. “Tell me he’s a good one. Because you know I’ll go big brother and kick his ass if he isn’t.”
“Yeah. It’s Matt’s friend.” I laugh softly. “I’ll be sure to let him know. But yeah, he’s a good one. The best, really.”
“And?” Leo lifts a brow. “Are you going to tell me about him or just leave me to guess?”
“You sure you wanna know?” I ask, already smiling. “Once I get started, there’s no stopping me. You’ll have to shut me up. I get all giddy when I talk about him.”
He chuckles, the soft wrinkles around his eyes starting to set in. “Go on, then.”
“Well… he’s funny. He always knows how to make me laugh.
And he’s nice—like overly thoughtful. He works in software sales.
His company does SaaS—software as a service, or something like that.
I don’t totally understand it, but he’s a sales manager, and he’s really good at what he does.
He grew up on the Upper East Side. Rich kid, private schools, the whole shebang.
But you know all about that life.” My smile grows as I keep talking.
“I don’t know, he’s just… really great. Treats me well.
Puts me first. And I love his family. Honestly, it’s almost been too good to be true. ”
Leo’s grinning when I turn to look at him, his dimples deeply set—just like Jensen’s. “He sounds great.” His eyes flick to mine. “I’m really happy for you. Not that I was ever worried. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thank you,” I say, soaking in his words. I appreciate that more than he knows. “How’s your love life going? Find anyone to settle down with yet?” I ask with a teasing grin.
A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest as he shakes his head. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”
I’ve always given Leo shit about his dating life—or lack thereof.
“Same old, same old,” he mutters, amusement in his eyes.
I laugh, pulling out my phone as we settle into a comfortable silence. All this talk about Jensen has me itching to text him, but he’s already beat me to it.
Jensen
Hey, babe. Did you get there safely?
Hi! I’m here. On my way to Michael’s. What are you up to?
He responds immediately.
Jensen
Glad you’re safe and sound. I’m just headed home from work. Gonna pick up some sushi and call it an early night since tomorrow will be a late one.
Sounds like you’ve got a relaxing night ahead. You planning to relive one of those wild high school stories tomorrow night? Ha.
Jensen
The only wild stories I want to recreate are with you… and you’re not here. So I’ll do the best I can with my imagination and my hand. Maybe we can FaceTime tonight?
A pulsing builds between my thighs, butterflies swirling in full force.
I’ve never done anything sexual via the phone…
I don’t know if I’d actually be brave enough, but the thought of it totally turns me on.
And if there was anyone I’d be comfortable enough to do that with—it’s Jensen.
He has this way of making me feel more confident than I really am.
I’m grinning as I text back.
I’m here for all of that… and more! Call me later?
Jensen
You bet your ass I will.
I try to wipe the ridiculous grin off my face before tucking my phone away.
I wish he could be here. He was invited, obviously, but New Year’s falls on a Tuesday, and he just couldn’t swing the time off.
We were both bummed; it’s our first New Year’s as a couple.
That’s kind of a big deal. You always remember your first New Year’s kiss.
I would’ve stayed, but I’d already booked my flight and made plans with Michael.
“So, what time is everyone planning to go to the party tomorrow night?” I ask as we turn onto Michael’s street.
“I usually try to get there around nine. Most people roll in between nine and nine-thirty.”
He pulls into the driveway, and I unclick my seatbelt. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks for the ride, Leo.” My hand grips the door handle.
“Just run inside, love. I’ll bring your bag.”
“Fine, be a gentleman,” I reply with a smile. “I won’t argue that.” I push the door open, run to the garage, and enter the code. As soon as it’s high enough to slip under, I bolt for the door and slip inside.
The New Year’s Eve party is in full swing.
The theme this year? The Great Gatsby. Once again, my trusty little black dress came in handy, and Stella worked her magic on my hair—finger waves, a flapper headband, the whole nine yards.
She’s a magician with hair, and honestly, the only reason I look even half as put-together as this glamorous rooftop bar.
The decorations are straight out of a movie: a bold balloon installation cascading from the ceiling, feather centerpieces, a sparkling dance floor. Live jazz music fills the room, and cocktail waitresses in fringe dresses carry trays of champagne.
My eyes briefly catch Leo across the room, chatting up a gorgeous brunette.
He’s charming her, no doubt, with the same effortless ease Matt uses on women.
In fact, they’re so similar I can’t believe I ever prejudged Matt.
A small grin tugs at my lips as my thoughts shift to Jensen.
He’s so different from them. He wants to settle down.
He wants a family. The same things I hope for.
I take a slow sip of my beer—the one I plan to nurse all night—and walk across the room to the windows that overlook the river. I never tire of this view.
A moment later, Adam and Michael make their way over.
“What are you doing over here all by yourself?” Michael asks.
“Stella went to talk to a friend, so I figured I’d take in the city while I waited. I forget how beautiful it is at night.”
Adam chuckles. “Even better when you actually know what you’re looking at.”
I turn to him, brows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes flicker with amusement as he nudges Michael. “Do you remember when we took her on the architecture riverboat tour?”
My stomach drops. “Shut up. I already know what you’re going to say.” I turn fully toward Adam just as Michael bursts into laughter.
“Art Deco?” he laughs, harder now, Adam joining in.
Michael and Adam took me on an architecture riverboat tour when I was seventeen. They talked a lot about the design, structure, and history of the buildings. Art Deco kept coming up, and finally, I turned to them and asked, “Who’s Art Deco, and why do they keep talking about him?”
They both lost it—laughed for hours—and never let me forget it.
“Hey,” I say in teasing defense. “At least I learned something that day. And at least it was you two, not years later on a date or something. It could’ve been so much worse.”
We all laugh together, an old familiarity settling in. I really love New York, but sometimes I miss these kinds of moments. The ones with the people I grew up with, who helped shape me—who remind me of who I used to be, and how far I’ve come.
Michael glances at his phone. “Excuse me, guys. I’ll be right back.” He shuffles off, leaving Adam and me alone.
Adam’s gaze lingers on mine, his smile reaching his eyes. “It’s good to see you, Alley Cat.”