Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“I think I need to go,” I say, then amend my words. “I have to go.”
He sets me down gently, stepping away from me with a raised brow. A question. What did he do wrong?
“I… I’ll see you tomorrow. To take care of Velvet,” I say, picking up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. “And… no after hours, I’m afraid. I don’t think they’re good for my, um. Work-life balance.”
It’s some of my worst rambling, and I can see the confusion on Mason’s face. I hate it and wish he would put the punchable asshole face back on. Then it would be so much easier to leave.
But I have to leave. I came to New York City to pursue a dream. A dream that will not go down because I listened to lust over logic.
I give him a final nod, pull my sweater back into place, and turn, leaving him in the library as I cross to the door and shut it firmly behind me.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, my phone buzzes at 6:30 a.m. on the dot. I’m groggy, seeing as I wasn’t able to sleep after last night’s mind-blowing kiss. All night, I tossed and turned, between my fantasies about Mason and mentally replaying our kiss. It’s to the point where I even question if the kiss actually happened or if I’ve read so many romance novels that I imagined the entire thing, but then I see the text on my screen and sit up.
Sorry for violating your contract. I promise to behave today.
I stare at the message. Again and again, I expect Mason to act a certain way. He’s supposed to be a playboy who casts girls aside after a single night, right? But this isn’t how a playboy would text, is it? Unless… maybe, since he didn’t seal the deal, he thinks he needs to play nice? I’m so damn confused.
Going into the office early. Left a key for you with the doorman. Maybe now you can start locking my door when you leave. Obviously I don’t mind Velvet being left alone when you duck out early to avoid me, but leaving my library vulnerable to intruders is another matter entirely.
I laugh, then remind myself that my roommates are probably still sleeping. Sure enough, I spy two lumps in the other beds. I think Bridget is on another overnight flight to Paris. Slowly, I grab my things and slip into the bathroom to get ready.
It might be insane, going back after last night, but if Mason can be a mature adult about it, then I can, too. He said he’s going to behave, so I think we’re done with all the confusing flirting. Right? Definitely.
I head to Mason’s and pick up the key from the doorman, while still second-guessing everything. He’s being nice, right? He’s realized he needs to stop tease-flirting with me and he’s going to leave me alone to concentrate on my fake nanny duties. Yeah, that doesn’t sound right even to me. The more logical answer here is that Mason’s up to something. This is exacerbated by the fact that, when I open his front door, there’s a stroller waiting for me.
An actual stroller. Okay, maybe he’s not done flirting via fake baby. I pull out my phone and text him.
You can’t actually expect me to walk an empty stroller through Central Park.
His answer is next to immediate, making me think he’s been watching his phone, waiting for my text. Something inside me does a somersault at that.
Why not? You won’t even make the top ten list of weirdest people in the park.
He has a point. But no way.
Will do, I text back, meaning no fucking way. I’m smiling, but no way.
Send me a selfie of you and Velvet at the park. Have a great day!
Oh, well played, Mason. Well played. I know he’s on the other end of this text exchange grinning his ass off. Way to call my bluff.
Fine. I’ve seen no shortage of oddities in New York, from jugglers to people in costume for no apparent reason. And besides, getting paid to take an empty stroller on a walk is still a better gig than anything else I could get paid to do at the moment. Plus, I could use the sunshine, and maybe even some company.
I send Lauren a text asking if she can meet me for a walk, and thankfully, she sends me a quick thumbs-up and a note that she’ll be there in ten.
I glide the stroller into the elevator and down to the lobby, appreciating the smooth roll. It was nice of Mason to buy such a top-of-the-line stroller for Velvet.
Jesus, yes, I can hear how nuts this is, even in my brain.
Yet, once I’m out on the streets of New York City with my empty stroller, I feel anything but nuts. I focus on everything around me, realizing that it’s days like this that make me grateful I left Iowa to come here. The energy and hustle and bustle, the architecture, the way chain stores and one-of-a-kind retail outlets are smashed in together side by side… all of it makes my heart beat a little faster. The way you can get anything and everything you need on this island called Manhattan.