Maybe I need a break from more than just my ritzy social circle…
That’s the thought pulsing against my skull as I make my way through the sultry summer air to the nearest subway entrance, two long-ass blocks away from the Colton-Hayes headquarters, my black high heels tucked into a Gucci purse my roommate Carolyn got tired of and passed off to me. I wouldn’t have bought it for myself, but I love how it’s so big I could carry a full change of extra clothes and still have room for my lunch, not to mention how soft the buttery texture of its leather is on my fingers.
I run my thumb over the strap as I walk, the heat settling on my shoulders as the sun beats down, the heavy humid air slipping through the layers of my clothes, and consider the uptick in impatience I’ve been experiencing.
If I’m being truthful, I’ve been feeling restless, filled with wanderlust even though I can’t really afford to act on it. I’m not sure I even want to travel. All I know is that my routine is becoming stale. Whenever that happens, my first instinct is to move on, which is probably why I changed my major four times and universities twice.
I could do it. I could sell some of my things and pack up and store whatever was left. I could use some of my savings to buy a used car and drive until I ended up someplace that just felt right. I have friends from boarding school and college scattered around the country.
As I descend into the subway, the rush hour crowd pressed in tight around me, fleeing by car seems more appealing than ever.
Then again, there’s a lot I’d miss about New York City. The city that never sleeps drew me in with its constant motion, the way its energy and excitement continually ebbs and flows.
“Hey, gorgeous,” a slimeball standing at my elbow says, slipping a hand around my waist. “Where you goin’? There’s room at my place for a piece like you.”
Without sparing him a glance, I slap sharply at the intrusion. “Fuck off.”
On the other hand, maybe I wouldn’t miss a thing.
I’m buzzing with energy when I reach the apartment I share with Carolyn, a friend I’ve roomed with since boarding school days. She and I, along with Christian and his brother Elijah, made up our original little foursome, and we stayed close even as others joined our group. For Carolyn, working in New York is more of a lark—she has a trust fund and will never have to worry about money—but the fact that she foots the bill allows me to live in a decently swanky place without selling body parts to afford it.
When I push open the door, the air is cool and still. I toss my bag on the table in our entryway, listening, while I kick off my shoes.
Carolyn isn’t home.
There’s a note on the fridge, the words spelled out in her perfect looped handwriting: Date tonight!!!
Damn. I was hoping to convince her to go out with me. Drinks. Dancing. Cutting loose. Push this longing to leave town out of my mind for another day so I can think about it rationally like a goddamned adult.
Roommate or no, I have to do something, but my usual routine simply will not do this time. I need something exciting. Something hot.
I pad back to the entryway and dig through my purse for my phone. A couple of swipes and I’ve pulled up a seldom-used dating app. More of a hookup app, really.
For a couple of years in college, I was a regular haunt on these kinds of apps. That’s when I developed one of the only hard-and-fast rules of my life: one date only, unless you’re sure that he’s going to be worth your time.
Though I guess technically the one-date-only rule really came about because of…
Never mind. I shake my head to clear the bad memory from my mind, quickly update my profile picture with a more recent one, and then swipe over to the list of men who might be my ticket away from this day of stress and boredom.
There he is.
Mr. Tonight stares out at me from the very top of the list, his green eyes piercing even in the profile photo. My heart thuds in my chest.
I click to open his profile, biting my lip as I scan the words. Typical, run-of-the-mill stuff…but that picture.
I send him a quick message through the app, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Go out with me tonight
After “tonight,” I type a period, but that seems too harsh. I replace it with a question mark. No, too timid. I settle on an exclamation point.
I go back to the endless stream of profile pictures, but before I’ve even found Mr. Second Runner-Up, the app pings.
It’s him.
Name the place!
Chapter 4
Alec
This vacation isn’t going exactly according to plan, but it’s far better than nothing. Far better.