Great. Let’s meet at Sugar House. 6:00?
OK. You twerked me into it.
I was laughing so hard I could barely reply.
You know how I love twerking.
What? OMG how is that even a word in my phone?
LOL See you at 6. I have news. <3
#
After a drink with the girls, I rushed home to start packing, still a little off balance by the whole idea of flying to New York on such short notice. It was just so unlike me! But that was part of the thrill too—Lucas would recognize that he was influencing me in all the right ways, and maybe he’d admit I’d had some influence on him too. Maybe he’d say he realized the value in talking about the future with me.
Bubbling with energy, I took my little red suitcase from my closet and set it in the center of my bedroom. Then I opened it up and began filling it with things I wanted to wear this weekend without even making a list! Wouldn’t Lucas be so proud of me when I told him? Dancing back and forth from my dresser to my closet to the suitcase, I tossed in jeans and tops, a pair of heels and a pair of flats. Over the top of it all I lay a slinky black dress in case we went out somewhere nice, and into my lingerie bag I placed a few carefully chosen items from the Phone Sex Wardrobe.
Because staying in was nice too.
Chapter Three
My flight was delayed and I arrived at LaGuardia around six on Friday evening, which meant traffic was terrible. As my cab inched from Queens into Manhattan, I texted Coco to let her know I’d arrived safely.
I’m here. Flying sucks.
Was it bad?
Fucking turbulence. What the hell is rough air anyway? How can AIR be rough???
At least you’re there. Going right to his apartment?
Yes. In a cab now.
Lemme know how it goes. Love you!
Love you too.
I turned off my phone and stared out the window, watching the high-rise landscape of Midtown morph into the charming nineteenth century row houses of Greenwich Village. I liked the tree-lined streets and neighborhood feel of this area much better than the crowded sidewalks and towering skyscrapers of upper Manhattan. If Lucas agreed with me about moving in together and wanted to stay in New York, I definitely wanted to look for an apartment around here. His current place was nice and all, but it was really tiny. No real kitchen, room for only a couch in the living area, and only one closet in the entire place.
Totally unacceptable.
It was hard to believe he’d shared the apartment with his ex-girlfriend for an entire year before they broke up.
At the thought of Jessica—I couldn’t even think the name without wrinkling my nose—I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Lucas had dated her for three years before it ended, mostly because she wanted to get married and he didn’t. Unease swirled in my belly.
Stop it. This is not the same thing at all. You’re not coming here with an ultimatum, you’re just coming here to surprise him and talk.
“Right here, please,” I told the driver when Lucas’s building came into view. I paid the fare and got out of the cab, zipping my coat all the way up to my chin. All the snow that Detroit had gotten Wednesday night hadn’t quite arrived yet, but it was bitter cold.
I dragged my little suitcase up the cement steps of his red-painted brick row house, smiling as I imagined his reaction upon seeing me at his door. But at the top of the stairs, my face fell.
Shit. I have to buzz in.
I hadn’t thought about that. My surprise would be ruined before the thrilling Look How Adorably Spontaneous I Am moment I’d envisioned taking place in the hallway outside his apartment door. Somehow it wouldn’t have the same effect if I had to announce my arrival through the intercom system. Could I pretend to be someone else? Buzz another apartment and explain the situation? But which apartment? I didn’t know anyone else here.
Switching my weight from one foot to another to keep warm, I waited for several minutes, hoping someone would come out. When my nose and toes started to go numb, I gave up and pressed the button for Lucas’s apartment.
Anticipating his voice asking who was at the door, I was startled when he buzzed me in without saying anything at all. Maybe he was expecting someone?
Propping the door open with my butt, I pulled my suitcase inside, then traipsed up two sets of stairs to the third floor. The building, probably close to two hundred years old, was a house that had been split into apartments on either side of a narrow staircase, which had tilted with age. But my bag was small and light, and my adrenaline was pumping as I took the last few steps two at a time.
At his door, I took a deep breath. I’m really here! I’m going to see him in seconds!
I lifted my hand to knock.
After three quick raps, I stood back, my heart banging hard against my ribs and a goofy grin on my face. I hadn’t seen him in a month—I was going to f**king pounce.
Nothing.
I knocked again, a little harder this time.
Nothing.
What the hell? He’d buzzed me in, hadn’t he? So he knew someone was coming up. I tried the door—locked.
Frowning, I knocked a third time, five sharp staccato beats.
“OK, coming!” called a voice from inside.
My jaw fell open. What the hell?
The voice was female.
As was the body that opened the door.
Female. With wet hair. And wearing a robe.
I stared at her, unblinking.
“Oh.” Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose in surprise. “I thought you were Lucas. Can I help you?”
My eyes dropped to the towel in her hands. She brought it to the ends of her long hair, squeezing the last of the moisture out. It was a navy and white striped towel. I knew that towel. I used that towel after every shower I took here.