Chapter 28
Mom gave me an awkward arm pat as a congratulations. Erik didn’t bother to show up. Gabe invited me out with his family to celebrate, but I think I’ll stop by the liquor store before heading home for the night.
I thought I’d be more excited to graduate.
Bex’s face scrunches up as I pull her past the elevators and out into the brisk New York night.
“Where are we going?” she whines. “I thought we were going upstairs to… you know!”
I pause, spinning around so fast she crashes right into me. I lightly grasp her throat before sliding my hand up her neck and into her silky curls. “Patience, baby. We’ll get to that, but I want to take you somewhere first.” I lightly nip her earlobe and my chest automatically puffs up when I hear her breath catch.
“O-Okay… I guess that’s okay.”
“Good.” I smirk, placing a kiss right below her earlobe.
I hail a cab and we hop in the back, looking slightly ridiculous dressed to the nines inside a taxi.
“76th and Madison,” I tell the driver, sliding on the seat until my body is pressed up against Bex’s.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” I ask, twirling a curl around my finger. I know that question is cheesy, but damn, she makes it hard to breathe when I look at her.
She giggles in response, which is rare for her but seems to be coming out more and more. She relaxes into me, her face growing serious. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about earlier tonight.”
My heart feels like a caged bird doing its damnedest to get out of my chest. I am confident about dating Bex. I know that I want her and I’ve tried to make that clear from the start—she’s it for me. But I haven’t wanted to push her, and I don’t know what I’ll do if she tells me that’s not what she wants.
“What have you been thinking?” I breathe, trying to keep my voice level even though I’m freaking out.
“I’m not sure if this just friends thing is working out.”
“Yeah, fuck friends,” I joke.
“Like fuck being friends? Or you want to be fuck friends?” She smirks.
“Either. Both. Everything.” I take a deep breath, bringing her hand up to my lips. “I want to be everything with you. Do you—Is that something you want, too?”
She nods. “I think I do…” Her whisper is tentative.
“You think or you know? I can keep waiting for you, Bex. If that’s what you needed, I’d wait for you.”
“I know,” she replies with more surety. “I know what we have feels different than anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m scared. I—I am honestly terrified of losing you. You’ve become someone so important to me, and it feels wrong to just be your friend. I want more than that. I want to be your girlfriend”—she scrunches up her nose—“even though that word doesn’t feel quite right either.”
I pull her legs up over my lap, gently massaging her calves as her head falls to my shoulder. “I know what you mean… Boyfriend doesn’t encompass what I want to be to you. But it’s a good place to start.” I turn my head and plant a kiss on her temple. “And I’m not going anywhere. Can you trust me on that? I want this. I want you. We can work out all the kinks when we get home, but for now, I just want to enjoy tonight. I want to enjoy you being mine.”
She looks up at me through full lashes, caramel eyes soft and gooey. “I am yours.”
“Fucking finally,” I say before crushing my mouth to hers.
Her mouth opens on a gasp as I slide my hand up her exposed thigh. I run my tongue across hers, reveling in the warmth of her mouth on mine. She sucks and nips, and I have to stop her before I take her right here in the back of this cab. “Baby, you’re killing me.”
“I’m killing you?! Why do you think I call you killer? You kill me every time you look at me with those lust filled eyes! I’m going to combust from sexual frustration!”
“Okay, okay. Cool your jets, Baby Bardot.” I chuckle even as she rolls her eyes. “I have one place I want to go and then we can go back to the hotel room, and you can have your naughty way with me, got it?”
She huffs and slouches back against the seat, blowing the hair out of her face with a frustrated breath.
“Fine, but I don’t need you to be all romantic! You already have me.”
I nuzzle into her neck. “Yes, I do. And I plan on showing you just how grateful I am for that for as long as you’ll let me.”
We pull up outside of the Carlyle and I pay the cab fare before sliding out and offering my hand to Bex.
She looks up at the building quizzically. “You brought me to… another hotel?”
I laugh lightly. She makes me feel light. “Yes, but unfortunately we don’t have a room here. Come on, I want to show you something.”
We walk in through the lobby toward a bar tucked in the back. We are more than slightly overdressed for our destination, but I don’t care one bit. The ma?tre d” greets us with a small wave. “Mr. Olsson! Thank you for joining us tonight. We have a small table over here for you.”
Did I use the Olsson name to get us into a few special places tonight? Potentially. Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
I glance over at Bex to gauge her reaction, and just as I’d hoped, her eyes are glued to the walls.
“Ah, first time for the lady?” the ma?tre d’ asks. I nod and he continues, explaining the history of the bar. “Bemelman’s Bar is a favorite among New York locals. Historic due to the murals on the wall painted by Ludwig Bemelman. You might recognize his art from the classic children’s book Madeline, of which he was the author and illustrator. The walls of the room depict a scene from an ideal 1940’s trip to Central Park.”
“It’s magical,” Bex breathes. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yes, it is quite exquisite. Please, have a seat but feel free to get up and walk around, examining the art to your heart”s content. We close in about thirty minutes to the general public, but of course we can stay open later for a guest of Mr. Olsson.” He turns to me and gives me a wink. I’ll make sure to generously tip the staff before we leave. “My name is Raphael if you need anything at all.”
We slide into the corner booth and Bex immediately cuddles under my arm. “How did you know?”
“I might have seen a collection of Madeline books at the Bardot house a time or two when perusing the bookshelves. I assumed they didn’t belong to your brothers, but I wasn’t completely sure they were yours.”
The pianist continues to play as Bex’s eyes wander the walls of the bar, finally landing on me. She’s beaming, her lush lips parted on a disbelieving laugh. “Mom used to read Madeline to me all the time. It might be the earliest memory I have, snuggled up in bed with her, reading about ‘twelve little girls in two straight lines.’ Her mom read them to her as a child and some of the copies we have are originals, practically falling apart at the seams from how many times we’ve read through them. I can’t believe you brought me here.”
She reaches up to cup my cheek, giving me a soft, slow kiss. It’s not hurried or lust filled. It feels… intimate.
“I would bring you anywhere. I want to bring you everywhere.” It feels like I’m admitting too much to her, but when I meet her eyes they are filled with understanding. My hand comes up to trace the moles and freckles across her collar bone. “Let’s get you a drink and then I have one more thing to show you.”
They kept the bar open an extra thirty minutes after everyone else left. The pianist continued to play our own private concert, and I couldn’t help but guide Bex out of the booth so I could pull her close. A different kind of dance than the others we’d done tonight.
This dance was relaxed and informal. Two people swaying to music we could hear, but also creating our own music with the slow push and pull of our bodies. More of a moving embrace than an actual dance. With every touch, kiss, and breath I was trying to convey to Bex how serious I am about her. About us. That I’m so, terribly close to falling. Probably already have, if I’m being honest. Words that I couldn’t say out loud, but somehow I think she heard all the same.
Eventually the pianist steps away and we continue moving in our own little world. However, I have one more surprise in store for Bex tonight. I signal for Raphael and he appears beside us instantly. “Right this way, Mr. Olsson and Miss Bardot.”
“Where are we going now?” Bex asks, her expression eager.
“Just one more stop and then I promise we can go back to the hotel,” I reply.
Raphael escorts us to the service elevator, using his key card to access the rooftop. Once we get up there, I walk Bex to the end of the hallway and knock six times on the door.
“Why six knocks? I noticed you did that when we were at Louie’s too,” Bex whispers.
I turn to her, pulling her body flush against mine. My hand comes back up to her collar bone, perfectly framed in her dress tonight. I touch each one of her moles as I count, “One…” I drag my finger to the next one. “Two… three…” I dip down to the top of her breast. “Four… this one is my favorite.” I wink and she rolls her eyes. My finger continues its path, back up to her collar bone, finishing on top of her left shoulder. “Five… Six. The amount of times I’ve wanted to run my hand over the perfect little constellation that makes its way across your chest. It’s absurd really, but I love it. So when I think of a number associated with you, I think six. We also met six years ago, but I don’t know how much of that you remember.”
“I remember,” she breathes, right as the door swings open and we’re granted access to the rooftop. She turns toward the open door, letting out a gasp as her hand comes up to cover her mouth.
The rooftop boasts a grand view of Central Park and the lit up skyline of Manhattan. It’s one of my absolute favorite places in the city. “My grandmother lived at the Carlyle before she passed away several years ago. I became close with the staff, many of whom still work here. She used to sneak me into Bemelman’s before I was old enough to drink, and she loved to convince Raphael to bring us up here on nice nights.”
“It’s breathtaking.” She’s talking about the view, but watching her is what’s taking my breath away right now.
Bex is lit only by the city lights, glowing in an almost angelic sense. Her curly hair makes the perfect halo around her face, almond eyes take in the view before turning back toward me. She slides her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my chest. “Tonight has been perfect,” she whispers.
“You’re perfect,” is my reply.
She grins, spinning in my arms and pulling her phone out of her dress.
“Those pockets have come in handy, I see.”
“I swear, every article of clothing for women should have pockets. Have you ever noticed that babies have tiny pockets on their clothes, but we don’t get pockets?! It’s insane.”
“I can honestly say I’ve never noticed that,” I chuckle as she raises her phone up to take a selfie. “Whatcha doing, Baby Bardot?”
“You got a new picture tonight, and I want one too.” She maneuvers us so the skyline glows in the background. I loop my arms over her shoulders, pulling her close and putting my chin on her head. She makes a silly face and I burst out laughing, right as she takes the picture. “Figured I needed a new background now that I have a boyfriend.”
That word from her mouth is music to my ears. “Damn straight you do. Now, do you want to continue to enjoy the view or should we head back to the hotel?”
She immediately pockets her phone, back going ramrod straight as she bounces up and down, tugging on my arm. “Hotel. Please. Now.” She punctuates each word with a kiss.
“Needy, needy, Baby Bardot.” I sling my arm over her shoulders and tuck her close to me, quickly kissing her temple. “Come on, I have plans for you.”