But she was still so angry. Angry at Strick—or whoever they were—for lying to her for months. Angry at herself for revealing so much about her life to a complete stranger. For being so lonely and vulnerable that she hadn’t even thought twice about doing so. For being swept away by his imaginary date ideas and charm. God. How pathetic. How embarrassing.
She jostled her way onto the crowded subway car and managed to find a seat. As the Q train took her from Midtown to Union Square, Lily tried not to fall into old thinking patterns. Like how she used to spend so much time last year imagining her fake life with Strick. She’d pictured him to be average height and brown-skinned. Cute and approachable. For some reason, her imaginary version of Strick wore circular tortoiseshell glasses. He didn’t care that Lily was awkward sometimes and he was happy to fill the silence with stories about his travels. He laughed at her jokes when she managed to make them. He was okay with spending a Friday night inside, reading beside her on the couch. And during the nights when he couldn’t sleep, they’d hold hands and walk through the city. He was perfect and wonderful with a smooth British accent.
He also wasn’t real.
As she got off the train and walked through Union Square park past the chess players and skateboarders, she did not think about that hypothetical Christmas date with Strick where they walked through this same park. She did not think about how the Christmas lights would reflect in his glasses as he leaned in to kiss her. Nope, she was not thinking about that at all.
In fact, she wasn’t thinking about it so hard, she didn’t even notice that Fine as Hell Neighbor was walking right toward her until he was literally feet away.
“Hey,” he said, pulling open the door to their apartment building. Today, he wore a black T-shirt and black denim shorts. He looked effortlessly sexy. He stepped back to let Lily go through first and smiled.
She felt it again, that weird sensation of familiarity.
Don’t just stare at him! Say something!
“Um,” Lily mumbled.
No, not that!
“Thank you,” she said.
Better, much better.
“No problem.”
He walked a couple feet behind her through the lobby. She purposely slowed her walk so that they’d fall into step together. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him.
“I’m Lily, by the way,” she said.
His eyebrows furrowed for a second, but his expression quickly cleared.
“Nick.” He held out his hand and Lily fumbled with her bag and manuscript before clumsily offering her hand too. “Nice to meet you.”
His hand was large and a little rough as it covered hers. Her whole body felt electrified at that simple touch. When he let go, Lily discreetly rubbed her sweaty palm against her thigh with a wince. He probably thought she was a wet-handed monster.
“Nice to meet you too.”
They waited for the elevator and Lily’s mind went blank per usual as she stumbled for something to say next. Then she remembered their common ground.
“I like The Fifth Season too,” she blurted.
Nick raised an eyebrow, still smiling politely, but clearly not following her train of thought.
“By, um, N. K. Jemisin, I mean,” she continued. “I saw you holding it once. I assumed you’d read it . . .”
Oh God. Maybe she’d misread the situation. He could have been gifting the book to someone else. Or maybe he’d found the copy on the hallway floor and had been on his way to donate it. What if she’d somehow dropped her copy and he’d accidentally donated it?
“Oh yeah, I did,” Nick said. “I read it in a day.”
Lily’s eyeballs popped. “In a day? It’s over five hundred pages long!”
“I’m a fast reader.” He shrugged, sporting a slightly sheepish smile, as if being a fast reader was something to be ashamed about. “I sit in the park and read for hours.”
Dear Lord. Be still her heart.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.
“Do you mind?” a very tired-looking father asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Behind him was a rowdy group of at least ten children wearing birthday hats. One child wore a large pin with the number 8.
The father didn’t wait for Lily’s and Nick’s reply before he and the children were pushing onto the elevator as well. Lily and Nick crowded into one corner, swiftly surrounded by eager eight-year-olds whose birthday cake intake had them soaring on sugar highs.
Lily was standing directly in front of Nick with very little space between them. Her arm brushed against his side and she felt the warmth radiating through his shirt. She inhaled his woodsy cologne. God, he smelled good. She wanted to bottle his scent.
Get it together! You’re behaving like an unhinged, horny freak!
“I used to read a lot when I was a bookseller,” she said, attempting to continue their conversation, even though they’d been derailed by a birthday party frenzy.
Nick leaned down closer to her, angling his head to hear her over the kids. “Say that again?”
She turned slightly, and his face was right there above her shoulder. This close, she could see just how smooth his skin was, the fullness of his lips. It was sensory overload. Unconsciously, she bit her lip, and she noticed how the action caught Nick’s interest. He lowered his gaze to her mouth and quickly brought his attention back to her eyes. Lily swallowed and tried to make herself focus.
“I read a lot when I worked at a bookstore,” she said, slightly raising her voice. “Now I read maybe two books a year for fun and it takes me forever.”
“You were a bookseller?” There he went with that quick eyebrow furrowing again. Maybe he had a tic?
“Yeah, in New Jersey,” she said. “Dog-Eared Pages. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
Nick slowly shook his head. “I’m still trying to get used to New York, to be honest. I’ve only been here for a few months. I moved in March.”
“Oh, where’d you move from?”
He waved his hand. “All over, really. But I was born in North Carolina.”
“Like Petey Pablo,” she said, because of course the only North Carolina native she could think of was a rapper from the early 2000s, who was popular back when she was in middle school. She wanted to crawl under the upholstery of the elevator floor. But Nick only laughed. She felt his body shake behind her as he chuckled. He had a nice laugh, deep and full of warmth. She wondered how she could get him to laugh like that again.
“Yep,” he said, grinning down at her. “Just like Petey Pablo.”
She shook her head, although she was grinning too. “I should have said Nina Simone.”
“Or Jermaine Dupri.”
“Really? I didn’t know he was from North Carolina.”
Nick nodded. “And without him, we wouldn’t have had Bow Wow.”
“Or Mariah Carey’s The Emancipation of Mimi album, which is one of the best albums of all time.”
“Of all time?” Nick whistled. “That’s high praise.”
“Well, I mean, it’s Mariah Carey.” She gave him a look. “You aren’t going to argue with me about Mariah Carey’s talent, are you?”
Nick held up his hands in surrender, that slight grin still on his face. “No, ma’am. I don’t want any problems.”