He drove for a while, looking like he had the literal weight of the world on his shoulders. Eventually, we reached a downtown parking garage. He went inside and drove all the way to the top, letting us sit on the top level outside. He turned off the car and cleared his throat, looking anxious. "What was all that?" I asked. "Why on earth does she think I'm your girlfriend?" "I'll get to that, just... this story starts earlier than that," he explained quietly, and I sighed, leaning back in the seat. "My parents are in New York society. We were all children brought up for the sake of pictures, images... parties. My parents always put me on a date to important events growing up. From like... sixteen and on, I always had to take a girl to anything important." "Okay, and how on earth does that concern me?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows, and he cleared his throat. "When I moved away, I did whatever I could to avoid ever having to do that again. I hated it, it made me really miserable. Mo
I didn't know what to say; my lips were open, but no sound came out. This was insane. New York was so expensive, but Kent would know how it worked. His family was loaded, and I'd get to do all the stuff I'd always dreamed about there. "Anything you want, Juls, I'll do it. I'll be your personal tour guide," he repeated, and I sighed. "My family..." "You just saw your parents. Tell your mom the truth that you're going with me, but promise her you'll be home for dinner on Sunday," he begged, and I chewed my bottom lip. "Do we have to... you know, act like we're together?" "Only in front of my parents," he whispered. "Please, Juls, anything you want." Anything I want? Kent was going to do anything I asked of him. That never happened; he was incapable of it. This was too amazing to try and pass up. "Okay!" I mumbled, and a smile broke across his lips. "Okay? You'll do it?" he asked, and I nodded stiffly. "But these are my conditions," I said, and he nodded. "Number one, wherever we
"What's your last name?" I ask, suddenly realizing that I've never inquired before. He's never let it slip. "Chavez," he responds quietly. "Is that news to you?" "No, you've never mentioned it or said it. You don't share much about yourself," I say, shrugging. "I just thought it would be nice to know before I visit your family." After that, he falls silent for a while. It's almost as if he doesn't know how to respond. "Look, I don't want you to feel like you're in the dark. If you ask, I'll tell you anything you want to know. I've already shared more with you than with most people I talk to," he says quietly. Then they begin calling first-class passengers and members to board. He clears his throat, stands up, and nods for me to do the same. "That's us," he says, and I follow him to the desk, where Kent checks our tickets and we show our IDs. After retrieving our documents, as I step into the tunnel leading to the plane, he places his hand on my shoulder. As he does so, my throat
The flight was too short; all I did was listen to music. Halfway through, Kent got up to use the bathroom after I said it was okay. He didn't believe the "no seatbelt" sign. When he returned, the plane was almost landing, so he had to prepare mentally again. He was restless because he had a lot of coffee before the flight. Despite my upset stomach, Gravol worked. As we started descending, he held my hand, looking tense. Once we landed, he gasped and gulped as we approached the gate. "You did it," I whispered, placing my hand on his. "We're here." "Thank goodness," he said, taking a breath. I let go to get my bag. He grabbed his bag, and we disembarked quickly since we were near the front. Although I felt queasy, Gravol prevented me from vomiting more than making me feel better. We collected our bags, and Kent showed me the way out. He guided me to the driver holding a sign that read "Chavez." "Good morning, Mr.," the driver said. "How was the flight?" "Terrible, as always," Ke
"What a day," I exclaim. I got to do everything I ever wanted in New York. Kent took me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the 9/11 Memorial, and Times Square. It was all amazing; I loved it. Now, it's almost dinner time, and Kent insists he has a surprise for me after our dinner reservation. So, after our day out, he takes me back to the hotel in a taxi. "Where are we going?" I inquire as he unlocks the door. "For dinner? We'll walk to an Italian restaurant a few blocks away," he informs me as we enter. I sigh. "No, I mean after dinner," I persist, and he laughs. "It's a secret. I've already told you about ten times," he says, and I sigh and smile. "It's surreal being in New York," I murmur as I open the curtains by the desk and look out at the city. "It's so cool." "You think so?" "Yes, it's fascinating and thrilling. Everything here is so exciting," I say with a smile. "I can't fathom why you left." "Leaving wasn't difficult," he mumbles. "I was excited to start a new proj
"What's going on?" I turn to Kent and ask, to which he responds with a smile. "Then I'll instruct you to cross the street," he says, nodding towards the group of people gathered on the other side. We reach the other side, and I look up at him. He can only laugh and shake his head. "Tell me," I plead, and he smiles. "Okay, okay," he concedes. "We're going to see the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular. The shows started last week, and I managed to secure tickets," he answers, revealing the tickets from his coat, leaving me in shock. "What? Are you serious?" "I'm not joking, honey," he assures me while showing me the tickets. I break into a delighted dance, unable to contain my excitement. He grins, pleased with my reaction, and I let out a squeal. "Oh my God," I exclaim, grabbing his arm and shaking it. "This is so amazing, and I didn't even have to ask for it." "I just thought you might enjoy it," he explains, and my heart swells. This guy was a fool. How could he have looked at m
When I wake up, I find my face resting on Kent's chest in the center of the large bed. What was I thinking last night? He had been ignoring me for weeks, encouraging me to date that other guy, and messing around with Piper. Then I kissed him like that. It wasn't what I needed before my interview, or ever, for that matter. I kept worrying that he had some ulterior motive behind all of this, especially after Piper's antics on Monday had made me tense. But I couldn't dwell on it because I had an important research opportunity to focus on. However, I couldn't deny how much I enjoyed lying here like this. I really liked him, and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't get him out of my mind, and it was frustrating to have such complicated feelings. I couldn't understand why my mind and heart were playing tricks on me. It wasn't something I felt for just anyone; it was specific to him. There was no time to linger, though, as I awoke before my alarms went off, and I could see from Kent's night
He looked intense, agitated, and brimming with emotions. I had never seen him so vulnerable before, so open. He genuinely liked me, and I wasn't imagining it. "I told him I wanted to ask you out, but he told me not to. He said he didn't want me to invite you to move in and potentially make things difficult for you. He thought I was too 'rough' for you and didn't want to put you in his room if he thought you wouldn't be happy, or if he believed I would make a move on you. So, I did what I could to keep you away, and yes, I was unkind to you. I'm aware of that. I'm damn sorry about it." "So, you did all of this, lied about your feelings, and pushed me away because Carlo, who doesn't even live in this state anymore, told you not to?" I questioned, my exhaustion evident. He shrugged and nodded. I just chuckled and walked away. "I can make my own decisions." "I know that, and I tried to make you like me for who I am, Juls," he said, his voice quiet. "I've always wanted to spend time with