“Hi, Lily.”
She looked over in surprise at Angel, who’d appeared beside her. He looked just as handsome as the first time she’d met him earlier this summer at Violet’s engagement party. But his presence no longer scrambled her brain or made her heart flutter. There was only one person who had that effect on her. And he was standing outside the venue somewhere quiet, giving his first-ever press interview over the phone for his book.
“Hey, Angel,” Lily said. “How are you? I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“I took Violet’s side in the breakup. Eddy wasn’t a good dude.” He shrugged. “Are you still working on books about dictators?”
Lily laughed. “Thankfully, no. How’s the album coming along?”
“Great. I’ve been collaborating with this new producer who—”
Angel abruptly stopped talking. Lily raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He was staring at something beyond Lily’s shoulder. She turned around and spotted Iris approaching them. Iris looked quite beautiful tonight with her dark plum lipstick and her skintight black lamé turtleneck dress. She’d let Calla stick a black rose behind her ear.
“I think Karamel Kitty’s lyrics are going to give Great-Aunt Portia a heart attack,” Iris said, once she reached the bar. She took her drink from the counter and glanced past Lily at Angel. “Hello.”
“Hey, what’s up, what’s good?” Angel blurted.
“Iris, this is Violet’s friend Angel,” Lily said, trying not to laugh at Angel’s besotted expression. “Angel, this is our other sister, Iris.”
Iris squinted at him. “You’re the musician.”
“Yes.” Angel’s eyes lit up as he eagerly leaned forward. “You’ve heard my music before?”
“No.” Iris sipped her drink and turned to Lily. “Calla’s sitting with Mom. I’m going outside to get some air if anyone’s looking for me.”
Iris walked away, and Lily hid her smile as Angel stared after her sister.
“It was nice seeing you again, Lily,” he said, hurrying to finish his drink. “I have to . . . go check on something.”
Lily grinned. “Nice seeing you too.”
Then he was gone, walking off in the same direction as Iris. He’d have his work cut out for him, but Lily hoped Angel might be successful in bagging Iris. She could use some fun in her life.
Her phone vibrated with a text from Nick.
Interview just wrapped up. Save me a dance?
Lily stood up straighter, her eyes searching. And there was Nick, striding right toward her. He cut a devastatingly handsome figure in his all-black tux. Lily could have melted on the spot.
They met each other halfway. It was unclear who reached for whom first, but they were immediately glued together, magnetic, like they hadn’t just been in each other’s presence thirty minutes ago. Lily kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.
“How’d the interview go?” Lily asked once she pulled away.
“It was cool.” Nick pushed a stray curl behind her ear and settled his hand at the nape of her neck. “I need more practice, but I think I’ll be better once they send me on tour.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you some media training before then.”
Nick laughed, and the sound washed over her like a warm balm.
He backed away toward the dance floor and held out his hand. “Wanna dance?”
Violet instructed the DJ to play only fast songs that went with her fuck-cheaters anthem, but that didn’t matter to Lily. She nodded and placed her hand in Nick’s as he led her out onto the dance floor. She looped her arms around his neck, and they swayed slowly from side to side, gazing at each other. His embrace was her forever favorite place to be.
“Looks like I was your date after all,” he said softly.
“Looks like it.” Lily couldn’t help smiling.
She wouldn’t have had it any other way.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
Somewhere along the way, Lily had lost Nick at the Union Square holiday market. She figured he was trying to find a moment of quiet amid the chaotic New York City holiday rush. It was mid-December, and they’d had a true day of holiday tourism, including a trip to the tree at Rockefeller Center, attempting to ice-skate at Bryant Park, and viewing the window displays at Saks Fifth Avenue. They’d been surrounded by tourists at every turn. Funny enough, it had all been Nick’s idea. He’d finished his sequel draft and wanted to celebrate by exploring what New York City had to offer at Christmastime.
Lily had been all too eager to agree. She was editing a middle-grade fantasy novel about a Black girl from New York who finds out that her great-grandfather was the real Jack Frost. She figured she could use the day as editing research. But really, she just wanted to watch Nick experience the mayhem and magic of Christmas in the city.
Armed with newly purchased holiday place mats, Lily moved on to browse a stand with various Christmas tree ornaments. She had a teeny-tiny tree in her teeny-tiny studio apartment in Crown Heights, only a fifteen-minute walk away from Marcus and Caleb. The following weekend, she was hosting Nick and his mom for dinner, and she wanted to make sure it looked as festive as possible. Teresa was visiting Nick for the first time ever. He and his dad still weren’t there. But it was something Nick was working out in therapy.
Lily was in the middle of choosing between a set of silver snowmen and red Santa hat ornaments when she felt a cold, wet kiss on her cheek.
“I went on the hunt for hot chocolate,” Nick said, holding out a steaming cup to her. Like Lily, he was bundled up in a wool peacoat, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck.
Lily smiled at him, accepting the cup gratefully. “Thanks. I was wondering where you’d gone.”
“After I got the chocolate, I was on the phone with Violet for almost ten minutes. She had hella questions about what Marcus and Caleb considered ugly for their Christmas sweater party. I think she’s overthinking it.”
Lily laughed and held up the ornament sets for him. “Which one do you like better?”
Nick grinned and shrugged. He pointed at the snowmen. “Those.”
“Great, that’s what I was thinking too.” Lily moved to pay for the ornaments, but Nick gently turned her to face him again.
“I got you something,” he said, reaching into his pocket.
“Don’t give it to me yet!”
They were going to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve before they went to her parents’ house for dinner. It was going to be Nick’s first stateside Christmas in years, and she wanted it to be special. She’d bought him a vintage typewriter. It was already wrapped and hidden away in the hall closet at her apartment. And because Nick wasn’t so good at hiding gifts, she knew that he’d already bought her a signed, illustrated edition of the Dragons of Blood series.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your real gift,” he said. “Just something small.”