Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Liam
When we get to the elevator, she drops my hand and presses the button for the lobby.
“So, where are we going?” I ask her.
“Well, since we’re already at Rockefeller Center, we can take a minute to admire the tree, if you haven’t yet.” She looks at me, brows raised.
“I didn’t even know it was here.” I shrug.
“Right, right. So, we’ll do that first. It’s, like, a must on the list.” She pulls out her phone and taps something that I can’t see.
“You really aren’t going to tell me your name?” I place my hand on her lower back and scoot in closer to her. I can smell her perfume; it’s light, but it smells like the roses in my mom’s garden.
“Nah, I don’t think I will. And don’t tell me yours.”
“Are you a felon on the run or something?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Honestly, I just want to have mindless fun tonight.”
“Life’s been crazy lately?” I ask, but actually, it’s like a statement of my own.
Between traveling, workouts, game play, game strategy, contracts, deals, managing time with friends and family … I’ve been a little stressed myself.
“You could say that the real world can get a little intense sometimes. Let’s just have a good time together tonight.
I never get to see the city from a tourist’s view, so this will be fun for me.
Let’s live in the fantasy.” She reaches around her back and takes my hand in hers again just as the doors to the elevator open.
“Okay, let’s live in the fantasy.” I squeeze her hand, and she looks over her shoulder at me and winks.
When we walk out of the building, we’re facing St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
I know it from every Manhattan Christmas movie I’ve seen, but I only glance at it as she pulls me down 5th Avenue and toward those lights I saw from the rooftop.
Saks Fifth Avenue is blaring “Carol of the Bells” while an incredible light display moves across the block-wide department store.
When we stop walking, Vixen places her hand on my chin and turns my face away from the music, and I’m instantly staring at a Christmas postcard.
Down an alley of lighted angels is the Rockefeller tree with the iconic building standing grand behind it. Television doesn’t do it justice. It really is pretty incredible. I would say it stands at least seventy to seventy-five feet tall, with what looks like millions of glittering, colored lights.
“What do you think?” she asks.
I shrug. “I thought it’d be bigger.”
Her bottom lip pokes out, and I grin, showing her I’m just messing around with her. She gives me a light shove in the chest.
We make our way through the crowded concourse and around the upper ledge that looks down at the ice-skating rink below us, with families and couples spinning around the loop.
Some sections are almost mob-like, so I pull our joined hands toward me, forcing her to my side in a protective stance.
I don’t want to lose her, and I most certainly don’t like the way some of the men stare at her as we pass.
She may have a firecracker personality, but she’s a vixen in heels, and almost everyone we pass has taken notice.
It isn’t lost on me the way she snakes a hand behind my suit jacket and clings to me as we walk to the base of the tree. When I finally release her, she still stands close to me.
“So, Vixen, are you a born and raised New Yorker?”
She looks up at me and smiles. “Both sides of my family have been here for generations. And other than my time in college, I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ll probably die here.”
“Well, that’s kind of morbid, especially standing here in front of this beautiful Christmas tree.” I chuckle.
She smacks my stomach playfully. “I guess you’re right, but I just mean I love my city. New York is the greatest city in the world.”
“You aren’t biased or anything, right?” I laugh and put my arm around her waist. Sure, I’m a flirt, but I don’t usually feel so at ease with anyone so soon. But there is something about her that just makes me want to touch her.
“Okay, funny guy, let’s keep going. Christmas magic awaits!” She takes my hand in hers again. “Oh, wait. Let’s take a selfie. Are you good with that?”
“Totally, but I want you to send them to me too.”
“I will at the end of the night. Deal?” She releases my hand and pulls her phone out of her pocket.
“Deal,” I say.
I lean down so my head fits in the frame and wrap my arms around her waist from behind.
She tilts her head toward mine, and with the tree perfectly placed behind us, she snaps a picture.
We’re both smiling, and we look like a candy cane with my white outfit and her red coat.
And now I want to be twisted up with her like a candy cane, in the warmth of my hotel room.
“Okay, let’s roll,” she says. We link our hands and start walking down 50th Street. “Are you cold?”
“Nah, I’m good. It’s warmer down here than it was on the rooftop. My body temperature usually runs hot. Are you good?” I ask her. “You’re in fancy clothes.”
“Yep, I’m good.” She lifts up her long coat and reveals ankle-length red pants.
“Huh, I assumed you had a dress on under that coat.”
“I’m not a fan of dresses. I’m too antsy for dresses. I like to be able to move around without worrying I’m flashing my ass at everyone, you know?” She smirks.
I chuckle and nod. “I get it. I hate it when I flash my ass at strangers. I mean, I have a nice ass—don’t get me wrong—but I’m selective on who I want ogling it.”
“I bet that happens to you a lot. I can’t see what’s under your coat, but if it looks anything like the rest of you, it must be nice.” She winks at me.
This girl.
I love that she’s not timid or shy, and she’s not trying to impress me. She’s very … real.
“I think you’re flirting with me, Vixen.”
“I just might be, Blitzen,” she teases, making us both laugh.
“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going next, or is it a surprise? I don’t know where I’m going, so pretty much everything will be unknown to me. I’ve only seen some things on TV or in movies.”
We get to 6th Avenue and make a right, crossing the street toward the lights of Radio City Music Hall. There’s a crowd of people standing outside the building.
“Is there a show tonight?”
“Yep, the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. I know you’ve heard of the Rockettes back in Kansas.
But that’s not where we’re going. I could probably find a way to get us tickets, but I don’t think you’re the kind of guy who wants to sit down for two hours when you can rock around the city.
Unless you really want to see the show?” She looks up at me, questioningly.
“I’ll go wherever you take me. I’m a pretty easy guy. I’m letting a snow-kissed angel drag me around a city I could get lost in, so I’ll just keep holding your hand.” I squeeze her hand and smile down at her.
“Snow-kissed angel. I like that.” She returns my smile, and I swear her eyes sparkle.
When we reach the corner in front of Radio City Music Hall, we cross the street again. There’s a large fountain with giant ornaments sitting in the water.
“Let’s take our next few selfies here. We’ll get one with the ornaments behind us, and then we’ll get another one with the theater behind us.” She looks around, then seems to find a spot.
“Okay, sounds good. Do they do the ornaments every year, or is it different every season?” I ask, looking around at the various sizes in the fountain.
“Every year. They’re kind of iconic. You can’t do Christmas in New York without posing with the city’s biggest balls.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Big claim.”
She smirks. “Hey, it’s tradition. And selfies are the perfect tourist memento. You don’t just remember what you saw; you remember who you were with when you saw it.”
I grin. “So, basically, photographic evidence that I met a snow-kissed angel and her giant balls?”
She bursts out laughing. “Careful, Blitzen. That caption writes itself.”
I move to stand behind her again and wrap my arms around her waist, and this time, I rest my chin on her shoulder. “Ready.”
To a passerby, we probably look like a couple who’s been together for a while. We’re definitely not acting like strangers. She seems just as comfortable with me as I am with her. That has to mean something. Sexy, unpredictable, and funny.
What are the chances that I meet my dream girl at a wedding? In another city. In a different state.
“Okay, let’s move over there to get a better shot of Radio City behind us.” She points to an area a little farther down the fountain pool.
“Yes, ma’am.” I take a minute to appreciate the sway of her hips as she walks.
We take another selfie, and then she taps out a text on her phone. “How do you feel about ice skating?”
“Ice skating?” I thumb back toward Rockefeller Center. “You mean where we just—”
“Ugh. No. That’s a tourist trap that will have you standing in line for two hours for a ten-minute skate. I have somewhere better, and we don’t have to wait in line.”
“Uh … I could do that. Although it’s been years since I’ve been on skates.
Not really a big thing where I’m from. I’m not sure the dress socks I’m wearing or the heels you’re wearing are going to work with the skates though.
” I point to her shoes. “Or that I’m dressed like a human snowflake in a white suit. ”
“It would be an issue if you didn’t fill that suit out so well.”
I smirk, and she rolls her eyes.
“Please don’t fake modesty with me. We’ve known each other far too long for that.”
“You mean, what, thirty minutes?”
“Our friendship is eternal.” She sways playfully from side to side, then lifts a hand toward the street. “Oh! We’re making a stop first. Come on. My driver’s picking us up on the corner.”
She takes my hand, and I thread my fingers with hers. Even though she’s wearing gloves, I can still feel the heat from her hand.
“Your driver? Can’t we just grab a cab?” I ask her.
“Nah, it’ll be faster for my driver to get us.”
We continue walking, and a three-person jazz band is playing Christmas carols.
A saxophonist, a drummer, and a bass player are jamming to “Let It Snow.” It’s an upbeat melody, the kind you’d hear on a Michael Bublé album.
I tug on her hand toward the jazz trio in front of a pair of towering candy canes wrapped in glittering lights, and she looks up at me.
“Dance with me?” I might not be the most romantic guy, but I’m feeling this with her, and honestly, I just want to hold her again. But this time, I want to look in her eyes while I do.
She snickers—half in protest, half surrender—and I pull her into me.
I wrap her arms over my shoulders, and then I wind mine around her waist, moving in closer.
We sway on the sidewalk, moving together to the music’s lazy swing.
Her heels slip once as I move to spin her and bring her back.
She laughs, seemingly at the absurdity of this moment—at strangers embarking on an adventure in the city, yet stopping to dance for no reason at all.
I swing her again and dip her this time. When I pull her up, we’re so close that our noses are practically touching. I can still smell the whisky and mint on her breath, and it’s making me want to taste her lips.
“Still want to go ice skating?” My eyes flit between her eyes and her mouth.
She nods and swallows. “Uh, yeah. But … I think we’ll make a stop first.”
I raise a brow at her innuendo.
She laughs. “Looks like I found someone on Santa’s Naughty List. Get your mind out of the gutter. I’d say you really need to get on the ice and cool down.”
“Hmm, you think I’ll like it, do you? Even though I haven’t been on skates in years?” I smirk.
“I think you’ll hold your own. You look pretty … athletic to me.”
Our eyes meet, and the corners of her mouth tug up.
She doesn’t seem to know who I am, but she knows I’m friends with Aaron, so her guess is right. I’m just surprised she isn’t saying anything about it or asking me how Aaron and I know each other.
“In fact, I am pretty athletic. But I still need you to hold my hand until I get used to it.” I move in just a little closer. I’m an inch away from taking her lips when a horn honks loudly next to us, drowning out the music.
She pulls away. “That’s our ride. We should get going.” Her hand comes up, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Okay, yeah. Onto the next adventure.” I follow her to the waiting car.