They walked around the city for another couple of hours like that. Happy. Laughing. Uproariously so, really. Everything was fun, and everything was funny. Carefree. Giddy. From their attempts to film their recreations of the You’ve Got Mail sequence (which proved very difficult to do with neither the acting chops of Ryan and Hanks nor a separate camera operator) to their attempts to order hot dogs to their satisfaction (which proved impossible since the chaos of a crowded space and thick New York accents somehow resulted in their ordering sauerkraut, relish, and ketchup, which was pretty disgusting to a couple of Coloradoans), everything seemed sprinkled by magic dust.
So much so that by the time they needed to head back to Brynn and Seb’s, Cole didn’t want the date to end. He wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to their magical land of make-believe.
“So, I know this is awfully forward of me on a first date, but I was wondering if you might like to come back to my place.” Even with all their joking and all of their suspension of disbelief (and never mind that they had shared a bed just a few nights ago, and a couple dozen times before that), he wasn’t comfortable with the way that sounded as it left his mouth. “For dinner, I mean. I just . . . I thought I might make you dinner.”
The sun had set nearly an hour ago by the time they stepped out of the Franklin Street station and began heading back to North Moore Street. Laila was wearing his new leather jacket, as Cole had predicted she would be, but she was still fighting a chill. The too-big jacket was wrapped around her as tightly as she could get it, and she was squeezing her arms while bouncing just slightly with every step.
“I’m not really the type of girl who goes back to a guy’s apartment on a first date.”
“And I’m usually not the type of guy who asks. But truth be told, I’m not quite ready to say good night yet. Besides, I’m famished. Who would have thought a disgusting hot dog would be so unfulfilling after walking about ten miles in a day?”
“And playing pickleball.”
“Yes! Pickleball. Though I guess we did eat a mountain of actual pickles, too, not to mention enough deli meat to stock a Jimmy John’s franchise for a week or so.”
Their pace slowed as they turned left at the Ghostbusters’ fire station.
“So what do you say? I promise to behave like a perfect gentleman.”
“No funny business?”
He grinned. “No funny business.”
Laila sighed dramatically. “Well, I guess I could text a friend or something . . . let them know where I am. Just to be safe.”
Cole nodded. “That would be wise. I mean, I’m fairly certain I’m not a serial killer or anything, but you have no way of knowing that.”
“Yeah. You can’t be too safe.” She stopped walking and released her arms from her hands’ warming grips before reaching into the pocket of her dress to pull out her phone.
He attempted to keep a straight face as she was managing to do, but it wasn’t easy. Not when she was making a point of turning her phone away from him and looking up over the screen at him on occasion as she typed, surveying him warily. And not when the truth was he was excited and terrified to be alone with her after the day they had had.
His own phone dinged in his pocket, making the first unsolicited sound it had made all day. In fact, he was somewhat confused as to why it was making its presence known now. He’d put it in Do Not Disturb mode before “picking her up” that morning, not wanting anything to interrupt their day. But he felt like he needed to look at it now. In Do Not Disturb, he had it set to receive only notifications from his emergency contacts. Now that his grandfather was gone and he and the staff at Spruce House wouldn’t be calling, that left only Sebastian (not Brynn since she had delighted a little too much in her emergency-contact status and abused her unrestricted access), his mother, and . . .
Of course.
He swallowed down a chuckle as he pulled out his phone. And Laila, of course, remained stone faced and serious.
Hey, it’s me. Soooo I’m on a date with this really great guy. Like REALLY great. He’s super cute and nice, and we’ve had the best time today. And he wants to cook me dinner at his place, which is maybe not a great idea, but did I mention how cute he is? Anyway, I’m sure everything will be fine. I’ll text you later and let you know I’m okay. I guess track my phone and call the cops if you don’t hear from me. Love you!
Cole swallowed down another chuckle, but it became something else as it made its way back down. Some sort of heavy sentiment that made everything tricky and yet mind-numbingly simple, all at the same time. Her text was a joke, of course, but it was also the most significant thing in his life. He really was her trusted person. The one she really would text if she ever found herself in this sort of situation with some other guy.
But he couldn’t reply like he would in that scenario. Actually, he had no idea how he would reply in that scenario. A week ago, what would he have said?
Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Not a chance. Or, who knows, maybe that was what he would have said. And then he would have abused his access and tracked her phone, right then and there, since they each had set up that ability for each other. He wouldn’t have wanted to get in the way of her evening, but he would have needed to know she was okay. He sure wouldn’t have gone to sleep until he heard from her again.
Funny, though. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been jealous. His problem, a week ago, wouldn’t have been with the fact that Laila was out with some “cute” and “nice” guy with whom she’d had the best time. But now? Thankfully, the guy was him, but he couldn’t ignore the tightening in his gut and the throbbing in his temples that accompanied the thought of it being anyone else.
Needless to say, he didn’t know how to process any of that. He also felt totally fine about making that a future Cole problem. He was still on a date with a super-cute, super-nice girl with whom he was having the best time. So he sent the only appropriate response he could think of to his very best friend in the whole wide world.
New phone. Who dis?
Laughter exploded from Laila as her phone lit up, lighting up her face nearly as much as the smile itself.
“Okay, that’s all squared away.” She tucked her phone back into the pocket of her dress and stuffed her hands into the pockets of his jacket. “The cavalry has been notified. I would love for you to make me dinner, if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”
“It would genuinely be my pleasure.” They smirked at each other for a moment, and then she started bouncing again in an attempt to warm up. “We’d better get you inside.”
They began walking the length of the remaining three buildings that stood between them and the Sudworths’ (which had been Laila’s place this morning when he picked her up and was going to be his now for dinner, but they would just ignore that little inconsistency), and Cole finally got the nerve to do something he’d been fighting the impulse to do since they sat on the downtown 1 train leaving Sixty-Sixth Street–Lincoln Center. He put his arm, bare below his T-shirt sleeve, around her shoulder and pulled her against him. She had the jacket, but he had the warmth, and though they kept their pace, he felt her melt into him.
He put his arm around her all the time. Often to help keep her warm. Sometimes for nothing more consequential than that after all these years, having his arm around her was every bit as comfortable as having it dangle by his side. She would usually wrap her arm around his waist in response. Sometimes, when the embrace was more temperature oriented, she would curl up into herself before curling up into him, and then he would wrap his other arm around her back and rub away the chill. But this was different. He watched, out of the corner of his eye, as she hesitated briefly, then pulled her opposite hand out of the jacket pocket and lifted it up to his hand resting on her shoulder. Instinctively they laced their fingers together and caressed the outlines of each other’s hands with their loose thumbs.
They climbed the four steps of the black metal entry together and stopped in front of the building’s locked door, illuminated by the streetlights and the lights of the city reflecting off the clouds in the sky. Cole’s arm still around her shoulders, Laila pivoted toward him.
“Did I tell you it’s my birthday?”
He swallowed hard as her breath danced across his chin and her body settled against his hip. “Today?” He cleared his throat as subtly as he could and was thankful when his voice came out stronger the next time he spoke. “No, you didn’t. Happy birthday. I hope it’s been a good one.”
Laila reached into the pocket of her dress with her free hand and then slipped Brynn and Sebastian’s key into Cole’s free hand, since this was now his apartment.
“Possibly the best birthday ever,” she whispered against him.
“Possibly?” Cole tilted his head toward her and rested his forehead on hers as Laila’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Well, I haven’t peed since the Upper West Side, so if that doesn’t happen pretty soon, this birthday may be memorable for less enjoyable reasons.”
Oh good grief. He chuckled and planted a quick kiss on her forehead before unlocking the door so she could run inside to the elevator. When he was a little too slow locking the door behind them, she called out, “I hope you don’t mind catching the next one!” as the elevator doors shut.
Now there was the Laila Olivet he knew and loved.