20. Ginger
GINGER
TWO WEEKS LATER
While we wait for our bet to be resolved, Tyler gives me a more leisurely tour of the parts of the apartment the boys had raced through earlier, including the second floor that houses his home office, a gym that looks like it belonged in a high-end fitness club, and a rooftop garden that offers breathtaking views of the city lights.
"This is breathtaking," I whisper, leaning against the railing as Manhattan sparkled below us like a sea of stars. "Do you get used to this view?"
"Not as much as I should," Tyler admits, standing beside me. "Especially in winter. But it's a nice escape when the city gets too overwhelming. A little pocket of peace above the chaos."
We stand in comfortable silence for a moment, shoulders touching, watching the endless dance of lights below. The cool night air carries the distant sounds of traffic and city life, mingling with the subtle scent of Tyler's cologne.
"Twenty-two minutes," Tyler announces, checking his phone. "Both sound asleep."
"Let me see," I demand, taking the device from him. Sure enough, the camera feed shows both boys sprawled in identical poses of childhood abandon, dead to the world.
"You win," I concede, handing back the phone. "Though I maintain Karl lasted longer than Julian."
"Technically true," Tyler acknowledges. "But the bet was for both of them, so I still claim victory. Prepare yourself for an extraordinary Sunday activity of my choosing."
"Should I be worried?" I ask, only half-joking.
"Terrified," he confirms with a solemn nod, though his eyes dance with mischief. "I'm thinking something involving heights, exotic animals, and definitely public embarrassment."
"So... the zoo?" I guess, calling his bluff.
He laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "You know me too well already. Yes, probably the zoo. Julian loves the penguin exhibit, even if they are temporarily relocated."
"Karl will be thrilled," I assure him, leaning into his embrace. "He's been obsessed with penguins since that documentary about Antarctica last year. Wanted to mail them fish for Christmas."
Tyler's laughter warms me against the slight chill of the evening air. "A thoughtful impulse, if logistically flawed."
"That's Karl in a nutshell," I agree fondly. "Big heart, questionable execution."
"Like mother, like son," Tyler murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment," I inform him primly.
"It absolutely was," he assures me. "Your giant heart is one of my favorite things about you."
The simple sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, unleashing that now-familiar butterfly riot in my chest. "You're pretty okay yourself, Reed," I managed, trying to keep my tone light despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
He turns me in his arms so we were facing each other, the city lights casting a soft glow across his features. "Just okay?" he challenges, his hands sliding from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me closer until our bodies pressed together.
"Maybe slightly better than okay," I concede, tilting my face up to his. "On good days."
"I'll take it," he murmurs, closing the distance between us.
His lips meet mine with gentle pressure that deepens as I leaned into him.
My fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him closer while his hands roam my back, leaving trails of heat wherever they touch.
His mouth moves from my lips to my jaw, then down to the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder.
I shiver, not from the night breeze but from the sensation of his teeth grazing my skin.
"Two weeks is too long," he whispers against my neck, his voice rough with desire. "I've thought about this—about you—every night."
"Me too," I admit, tilting my head to give him better access. My hands slide beneath his jacket, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt. "Though my fantasies didn't include an audience of skyscrapers."
He chuckles against my skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through me. "We should take this inside," he agreed, though his hands continued their exploration, one sliding down to cup my hip, the other tracing my neckline.
"Probably," I echo, making no move to break away. Instead, I recapture his mouth with mine, kissing him as my hands move to the buttons of his shirt.
Tyler groans softly, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against mine. "If we don't move now, I might forget we're on a rooftop in Manhattan."
"Lead the way," I whisper, stepping back but keeping my fingers entwined with his.
He guides me toward the door, pausing every few steps to steal another kiss. What should have been a thirty-second walk stretches into several minutes as we linger against the wall, then by the elevator, his body pressing mine against the cool metal doors, my leg hitches around his hip.
When the elevator finally arrives, he pulls me inside, hitting the button for his floor before backing me against the mirrored wall. His hands frame my face as he kisses me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. "I've missed you," he murmurs against my lips. "Every part of you."
The elevator doors open directly into his penthouse, but we barely notice the spacious living room as we moved through it, still wrapped in each other. Tyler's hands find the zipper of my dress, slowly lowering it as we cross the threshold into his bedroom.
We stumble through the doorway, mouths still connected, as the Manhattan skyline reveals itself once more through another wall of windows.
The same city that had witnessed our rooftop embrace now serves as the backdrop for something more intimate.
The city lights spill through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in a silver-blue glow.
His bedroom is minimalist but luxurious—a massive platform bed with crisp white linens dominated the space, framed by those same stunning city views.
My dress slips from my shoulders, pooling at my feet as Tyler steps back to look at me. His eyes darken as they traveled over my body, lingering on the black lace that remains.
"You are so beautiful," he say, his voice almost reverent. "Even more beautiful than I remembered."
I move toward him, my fingers making quick work of his remaining buttons. "Your turn," I say, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the toned chest I'd been dreaming about for two weeks. I run my hands over his skin, relearning the contours of muscle and sinew.
He shudders under my touch, his control slipping. In one fluid motion, he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bed. We fall together onto the soft mattress, a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing.
This time is different from our first night together.
The urgency remains, but there was also a newfound familiarity—we know each other's bodies now, remember what made the other gasp and moan.
Tyler's mouth traces a path down my body, lingering at the sensitive spots he'd discovered before.
My hands map the planes of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the sharp line of his hip.
"I've thought about this every night," he confesses against my skin, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear. "About you, about us."
"Show me," I challenge, arching into his touch.
He does, with exquisite attention to detail.
Every caress, every kiss seems designed to drive me to the edge of madness.
When he moves over me, our bodies joining in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar, I clutch at his shoulders, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion.
The city lights catch the sheen of sweat on his skin as he moves, his eyes never leaving mine.
In that moment, the distance between Boston and New York seems to vanish—there was only this connection, this man, this feeling that defied every practical thought I'd ever had.
Later, wrapped in soft sheets and each other's arms, I trace lazy patterns on Tyler's chest as our breathing returns to normal. The city continues its never-ending symphony below us, but in this room, this bed, we exist in our own perfect bubble.
"Still think this can work?" he asks, a rare note of vulnerability in his voice. "Us, I mean. In the real world, with trains and schedules and jobs and kids and everything?"
"I do," I say, surprised by my own certainty. "It won't be easy, but..." I trailed off, searching for the right words.
"But worth it?" he suggests, his eyes searching mine.
"Definitely worth it," I agree, sealing the promise with another kiss.
As I drift toward sleep, the distant sounds of the city creating an unfamiliar but not unpleasant backdrop, I find myself looking forward not just to the weekend ahead, but to all the weekends that might follow. All the possibilities that await us if we were brave enough to pursue them.
Forty million dollars had changed my life in many ways, but meeting Tyler Reed—now that had been the real jackpot.