Chapter 36
SADIE
We pack up our things and drive north, windows down as the coastline plays peekaboo.
I lean back in the seat, thankful the quiet with Milo feels so easy that I can just melt into it.
After a few hours, we stop for fuel and food.
When we get back in the cab, I make use of the best part about a bench seat and slide over next to Milo.
He glances at me, his blue eyes softening as he reaches for his seatbelt, a hint of a smile already forming before I ask, “Is this okay?”
“When has it ever not been okay?” he replies, his voice low and easy.
I lay my head against him, my hair spilling over his shoulder. I feel his lips press a soft kiss against my head before he puts the truck in drive, and my stomach flutters.
We continue driving, the world around us eventually turning dark except for the sparkling lights ahead—lights that seem to pulse with energy and a promise that they’ll never fade.
I’ve been to Dallas, Austin, Houston . . .
But New York City—this place seems to have stolen the stars from the sky and taken them for its own glory. And I’m so glad I’m not driving.
Milo doesn’t seem fazed by the traffic as it thickens until there’s nowhere to escape it, but the anxiety crawling up my spine is fully aware. His hands are steady on the wheel, his foot sure on the brake.
How are there this many people still driving after midnight?
I scoot to the edge of the bench seat, my eyes adjusting to the newness of it all while people honk and brakes shriek on the road. There’s part of me that feels like I don’t belong here, but there’s something stirring within that makes me smile at the chaos.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, turning to Milo, whose jaw is clenched, eyes hyper-focused on the road ahead.
He doesn’t answer right away. He lets me wonder a little longer about what he’s piecing together in his mind. Then he says, “It’s a place I knew you’d love as soon as I saw it.”
A place he knew I’d love. Because he’d thought of me.
“But we’ll have to see it tomorrow. It’s a little late,” he adds with a half smile.
I nod, settling back into the seat beside him. “We passed your stadium.”
I watch as his eyebrows arch. “You know where it is?”
I laugh gently. “Remember, I watched every game.”
He nods, his eyes still forward.
“Can we go there?” I ask softly.
“You want to?” He doesn’t conceal the surprise in his tone.
“I do,” I answer. “I want to be where you were.”
The words steal his breath, his chest tight, and I find mine waiting to release my own air.
“Okay,” he finally says.
“Okay,” I repeat like it’s a promise.
The drive into the city takes so long that I almost wish I was in Dusty Hollow, where everything is a five-minute drive. Almost . . . but not enough to turn around.
I’m in awe of how alive everything is as we slowly continue through the city. People are crowding the sidewalks going everywhere and anywhere. It’s as if there are no rules—as if the hours you keep can be made of your own accord.
I watch as a woman with sleek blonde hair and an outfit that belongs in Vogue raises her hand with such authority that a yellow taxi appears in seconds.
She slips in easily, with no hesitation about who is driving her or the time it’ll take to get there.
She just owns the moment. She’s a leading lady, and yet she’s probably a woman like me—made of the same kind of dreams and dust, just dressed the part.
Milo stops, and I realize we’re parked outside a building made of glass and steel that seems to keep climbing up toward Heaven. There’s a man in a pressed navy polo and gray slacks who appears to be waiting on us.
“He’ll park the truck,” Milo says as if he’s reading my thoughts. “I’ll get our luggage.”
The man opens my door for me. “Ma’am.”
“Hi,” I say breathlessly, then, because I have no idea what to do, I extend my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sadie.”
He quirks his head. “Brady,” he says before shaking my hand. “First time to the city?”
I look down at my crumpled clothes and glance back at Milo’s old truck. “It is.”
“Well, I hope you love New York City,” he says before Milo is suddenly beside me with my suitcase and his backpack.
He gives Brady the keys with some money. “Milo Carter.”
Brady nods once and gets in the truck.
“They do things differently around here,” I mutter.
Milo grins. “Just a bit, but you’ll figure it out.”
I’ll figure it out. I think back on the lady hailing the cab. I could be like her if I wanted to. I smile at the thought, then I follow Milo into the hotel.