Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TATE
After a smooth flight, Daija and I landed at LaGuardia early in the morning, where Toby and Shane were waiting for us, holding adorable, handwritten signs with our names on them.
Then, we took an Uber to their tiny, yet charming, Brooklyn apartment with exposed brick and giant windows.
The incredible view more than makes up for the fact that it’s only seven hundred and fifty square feet.
They’re definitely living the good life, and damn, have I missed them.
We picked up lunch from a cute little diner and took it to their favorite spot overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge.
No matter how much fun I had, my mind kept wandering back to Spencer and our lunch dates on the pier.
They’re honestly the highlight of my day, especially when he brings me flowers.
I shake the desperate thoughts of Spencer out of my head, focusing on the present moment instead.
I’m in New York City, baby.
We’re getting ready to go out, and I can’t freaking wait. Shane is taking us to a fancy lounge in SoHo.
“Time for shots!” I say rather loudly and obnoxiously, but I’m just so excited to be here. We’ve got our Taylor Swift playlist on, and the drinks are flowing. Tonight is going to be amazing, I can feel it.
“Miss Edna’s going to hate us after this,” Shane grumbles, folding his arms across his chest while he watches the three of us have a makeshift dance party in the living room.
Toby turns the music down slightly. “Oh, stop! She loves us. Especially after you brought her that tin of homemade cookies,” he teases before turning to Daija and me. “Miss Edna’s the sweet old lady that lives next door.”
“Awww, Shane,” Daija coos. “You big softy.”
I chuckle at the unimpressed look on Shane’s face, but we all know it’s true, despite his surliness.
“So, are we going to have those shots, or what?” I ask, circling back. I’m ready to have fun and forget about my problems.
Shane closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Please don’t get shit-faced before we go. It’s a nice establishment, and the chef is a friend of mine.”
“Don’t worry. We would never be sloppy, honey,” I promise him before tipping the shot back as soon as Daija hands it to me. “Mmm.” Another lemon drop.
Toby and Daija do the same, and I’m surprised Shane even invited me. I’m a terrible influence on his boyfriend.
The moment we step inside The Rooftop Lounge, my jaw drops, and I peer around in absolute wonder.
Floor-to-ceiling windows provide an expansive view of the city, and the gorgeous black marble bar catches my attention next.
It’s illuminated by soft, white lighting, as are the multi-tiered glass shelves filled with expensive liquor bottles.
In the center of the wall is a giant, lit-up R written in elaborate cursive script.
“This is incredible!” Daija exclaims over the low, thumping music. She looks absolutely gorgeous in a gold, sparkly minidress with matching charms in her braids.
I’m wearing slim-fitting white pants with a loose linen shirt, halfway unbuttoned, and my hair styled to perfection. Shane and Toby are wearing some sort of business casual, but I’m not knocking it. They look good. We all do.
“Just you wait! Come on, follow us,” Toby says, nearly bouncing on his toes.
Shane grabs his boyfriend’s hand and leads the way. We follow them through the pulsing crowd to an outside patio with skyscrapers towering all around.
“Wow,” I say in complete awe, looping my arm through Daija’s as we gawk like the tourists that we are.
“It’s amazing,” Daija whispers.
“Nothing like Crescent Bay, is it?” Toby laughs, looking over his shoulder at us with a big smile.
“Um. No,” Daija agrees. “Not at all. This is unbelievable.”
“It gets better,” Shane mumbles, and then we’re stepping into a VIP area with couches, gas firepits, and a private bar.
“You guys!” Daija shouts. “You’re seriously spoiling us,” she adds sweetly, giving them both a squeeze.
“You really are,” I agree, joining the group hug for a quick second and letting go before we give Shane a heart attack.
“It’s nothing,” he insists. “You’re only here for a short amount of time.”
Toby beams at Shane, and I ignore the jolt of longing that kicks me in the balls.
“Let’s take a picture!” I suggest, handing the camera to Shane. “You’ve got the longest arms, so you have to take it.”
Shane snorts, holding it out while the rest of us gather around him.
“Get more of the background,” I request, as we shuffle around for the perfect angle.
“I’m not Inspector Gadget, I can’t extend my arm like that,” Shane grumbles at me, making Toby and Daija snicker.
“Freeze! Right there!” I shout, and we all pause, smiling at the screen as Shane snaps a few pictures.
I sit down with Daija and flip through the photos. “These are so cute. I’m going to post one.”
“Tag me!” Toby requests.
“Duh!” I say with a wink. “I’ll tag all three of you.”
“We’ll get the drinks while you guys are doing that. What do you want?” Shane asks.
“Espresso martini, please,” I reply, continuing to tap away on my phone.
“Oh. Same. Thanks,” Daija adds, and Shane and Toby head over to the VIP bar.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Daija quickly turns to me. “Don’t do anything or post anything that will make Spencer jealous.”
I huff with annoyance. “Babe. If a selfie makes him jealous, that’s his own problem.”
“That’s not what I meant. Let me rephrase. Don’t do anything to hurt him.”
I stare at my best friend, and she raises a perfectly arched brow at me.
“No one has any faith in me,” I mumble to myself, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t hurt him, Daija.”
“Okay. Good. It’s settled, then.”
I quickly post the photo and turn my phone on silent, slipping it into my back pocket just as Shane and Toby come back. I’ll respond to comments later.
“Two espresso martinis,” Toby says with a warm smile, and we carefully take the drinks from him.
“Thank you so much, sweets.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Daija adds.
“You’re welcome,” Toby says with flushed cheeks and deep dimples. “I’ve really missed you guys, and I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Aww, baby boy,” Daija coos, setting her martini on the table and pulling Toby in for a big mama-bear hug.
I follow suit and join them until Shane clears his throat, and we all pull apart, giggling with watery eyes and sniffly noses.
Shane hands Toby his drink and then holds up his beer. “Cheers to all of us being in New York together.”
“Cheers!” I shout, carefully lifting my drink in the air.
“Yesss!” Daija agrees, clinking her glass with mine and making them spill slightly.
“If only Jake and Spencer were here,” Toby says with a sigh. “Then our little family would be complete.”
Daija and I glance at each other for a moment at the mention of Jake and Spencer, a thousand unspoken words passing between us.
No matter how hard I try, it’s impossible to keep Spencer out of my mind completely.
Tonight has been a blast so far, especially the impromptu dance party that I accidentally started in the VIP when my favorite Chappelle Roan song came on. It feels like I belong here. Daija, too. We were meant for New York City.
My friends are in the bathroom while I sit at the VIP bar, sipping my drink and keeping the lovely bartender, Yelena, company.
She’s helping another customer when a sudden whiff of cologne infiltrates my nostrils against my will, and I turn toward the offender.
An older gentleman in his forties, wearing an expensive suit and a very nice Rolex, is sitting next to me. He’s handsome, with a strong jaw and dark hair that’s slicked back and graying at the temples.
“Hi,” I say rather rudely, but it’s better than, “Can I help you?”
His dark blue eyes shimmer with amusement. “Good evening.”
Oh, good lord, he has a British accent.
Is this some sort of test?
Or maybe a punishment?
“My name is Edward. May I ask yours?”
“Tate,” I say flatly, as if I’m completely unbothered by the sexy, posh accent.
“May I buy you a drink, Tate?”
“No, thank you. My friends have been buying them for me all night,” I retort, sipping my fresh lime juice margarita that’s getting low.
Edward hums, taking a sip of his amber-colored drink. “I see. Well, may I trouble you for a dance?”
God, Edward really won’t give up.
“I’m not interested in dancing right now. I’m enjoying my drink,” I inform him.
There he goes again with that amused smirk that seems a little condescending. “Maybe later, then?”
Spencer’s hurt and defeated eyes flash through my mind, stabbing me in the heart all over again.
“Look, you seem like a nice guy,” I say carefully. “But I’m just here visiting my friends for the weekend.”
“If you’re sure?” he asks, and I huff, even more annoyed that he thinks I don’t know what I want.
How dare he.
“Yes,” I reply firmly, folding my arms across my chest.
“Fair enough,” Edward says, standing from his seat.
“Everything okay over here, mi amor?” Yelena asks while drying a glass.
“Yeah. All good. Thanks, babe,” I assure her.
She glares at Edward before setting the glass down and greeting her next customer.
“Enjoy the rest of your time here. It’s a beautiful city.” Edward gives me a nod and leaves the VIP, dispersing back into the crowd.
Finally.
“What the heck, Tate?” Toby asks in drunken outrage, plopping down in Edward’s empty spot. “He was totally hot, and he totally wanted you!”
“Tobes,” Shane says sternly, but the little troublemaker-in-training just giggles.
“I’m not here to meet guys,” I say irritably. “I’m here to spend time with my best friends. Can’t a guy be celibate in peace? Sheesh,” I grumble way too defensively and dramatically.
Daija snorts, and I side-eye her with pursed lips.
“Sorry,” Toby says, holding up his hands. “That’s news to me.”
“Just a little hiatus,” I tell him, and it’s the truth, even if that hiatus is only a few days long.
“I think we’re headed to bed. Looks like Tobes is already out,” Shane says, fussing with the blanket that’s draped over his boyfriend.
“Yeah, I’m about ready to pass out myself,” Daija agrees with a yawn.
“Me too,” I add sleepily.
Shane turns off the TV and stands up, bending down to carefully scoop up Toby. “Goodnight,” he murmurs, carrying Toby down the hallway to their bedroom.
“Well, that was adorable,” Daija jokes, climbing onto the now-vacant couch with her pillow and fuzzy blanket.
Watching Shane take care of Toby reminds me of Spencer and his kind, thoughtful actions.
I miss him.
“I’m going to call Spencer,” I announce suddenly, climbing onto the couch with Daija.
She practically tackles me, yanking the phone out of my hands and shocking me still.
“No, you are not going to drunk-dial Spence! I won’t allow it, just like you wouldn’t allow me to drunk-dial Jake,” she whisper-shouts.
“I’m just gonna tell him I didn’t fuck anyone as requested,” I whine, wishing she’d let me make my own decisions.
“Shhh!” Daija hushes me, glancing down the hallway as if Shane and Toby can hear us. “If you don’t want to tell them about your arrangement, then don’t call Spence or text him while we’re here. And definitely not after all the cocktails we’ve had. Okay, babe? Just chill.”
I huff, switching to my couch and climbing under the covers, facing her. “Fiiine. You’re right. Thank you for saving me from myself,” I mutter as my eyelids get heavy.
Daija sets our phones on the end table and turns off the lamp, plunging the small room into complete darkness. “That’s what besties are for. Goodnight, Tate.”
“Night, babe,” I murmur, looking forward to another day exploring the city.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to go back to the real world after this.