“Since when did you know what J-turns are?” Tyler shoots back, right before he grasps my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine again.
It doesn’t feel like the middle of the night and it doesn’t feel like we just did all of this a few hours ago. I’m kissing him back and it all feels so familiar now that I can’t help but smile against his lips. I like that none of this feels foreign anymore. I like that it just feels normal. Not wrong. Normal. Gripping onto Tyler’s hoodie, I sit up on my knees and pull him toward me, pressing my chest to his. The space available is limited, but we persevere, and although cramped, it doesn’t prevent Tyler from brushing his hands over my skin, grabbing my hips.
“I’m starting to wish my car had a backseat,” he murmurs against my jaw with a slight laugh.
With the roll of my eyes and a seductive smile, I whisper, “We can improvise.”
The engine’s still running, but neither of us seem to pay any attention. I reach back up to turn off the overheard light again while Tyler’s hand rests on the clasp of my bra. He’s getting better, a lot less fumbling, and just as he’s about to unclasp it, my phone rings.
It vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans and I freeze. I share a rather perplexed glance with Tyler as I pull back from him, reaching for the device. I’m taken aback when I see Rachael’s name flashing across the screen.
Tyler slumps back in his seat in defeat as he runs a hand through his hair, resting the other on the steering wheel. “Goddamn, Eden.”
“It’s not my fault!” I apologize. I don’t know what Rachael could possibly be calling for at this hour and, slightly irritated by the interruption, I answer the call sounding a lot more grouchy than I’d like. “What?”
“Woah, Eden, you sound like such a moody-ass New Yorker,” Rachael’s voice chirps back. “I haven’t spoken to you in forever and you answer my call like that?”
“Rachael,” I say slowly. “You realize it’s almost four here, right? As in, the middle of the night?”
“Oh my God, no way!” she explodes, letting out a small gasp. Rachael often forgets the time difference. The first week I got here, she almost always called me when it was after midnight in New York. No matter how many times I remind her of the three-hour difference, she never seems to remember. “I totally forgot. It’s barely one here yet. Did I wake you up?”
“No, I’m awake.” Tyler fixes me with an impatient glare and I shrug back at him. I can’t just hang up on her.
“Okay, so I have to talk to you about Tuesday.”
“Hurry up,” he mouths.
I wave him away with my hand, crossing my legs on the seat and pressing my phone harder against my ear. “What do you need to talk to me about?” Tuesday is when Rachael and Meghan arrive in New York for Meg’s belated birthday trip. They’ll be here for five days, and I can’t wait to see them. Right now, however, my thoughts aren’t exactly focused on my friends coming to the city. They’re focused on Tyler and the fact that he’s glowering at me. It’s rather distracting.
“We’re staying at the Lowell Hotel,” Rachael informs me, voice clear and confident. I never expect anything less of her. “I’m looking at the map right now and it’s on the intersection of Sixty-third Street and Madison Avenue. You got any idea where that is?”
I try to picture the grid layout of the borough. Madison Avenue, I’m pretty sure, is only three blocks west from Tyler’s apartment. Sixty-third Street is eleven blocks south. “Tyler’s apartment’s on Seventy-fourth Street. North of your hotel.”
“So we’re close?” she asks.
“I guess?”
“Great. Here’s what I need you to do.” Pausing, she takes a deep breath while I sigh away from the phone. Knowing Rachael, I shouldn’t be too surprised by any requests she makes. They’re often unrealistic. This one, however, isn’t. “On Tuesday night, can you come by our hotel? Tyler too. I’ll text you the room number when we check in and whatever. We really wanna see you guys.”
“Sure, we’ll come by.” Out of the corner of my eye, Tyler sits upright and arches his eyebrows, questioning my plural use. He wants to know what I’m dragging him into. I’ll explain later. “Rachael, it’s really late.”
“Oh God, yeah. Sorry, Eden,” she apologies, and for once she sounds genuinely sincere. Usually her apologies have to be forced out of her. “Night, babe.”
I hang up the call and sigh, but then I begin to smile. I make a point of shutting my phone off completely, throwing it to the floor and stretching over the center console to run my fingertips along the edge of Tyler’s jaw. He doesn’t look impressed to start with, but the second I glance up at him as innocently as I can from beneath my eyelashes, he seems to forgive me for interrupting our moment, because he reaches for me and picks up exactly where we left off.
He doesn’t bother to ask what we’re doing on Tuesday.
20