I give my head a little shake, feeling myself blush with embarrassment. Yeah, I was definitely not going there with my mom.
Getting off the train, I make my way to the deli outside my subway stop and buy flowers. I take my iPhone out of my purse, check the time, making sure that I’m not running late for work, and then walk into the coffee shop next door. I spot Phoenix immediately. It’s impossible to miss him—tallest guy around, tatted, and drop-dead gorgeous. His electric blue gaze lands on me as soon as I walk in. I blush under his roving and appreciative eye.
He walks toward me, cocky smile in place, as he pushes some of his black hair away from his face. “Mornin’, gorgeous. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
I laugh. “You should have more faith in me.”
“I do, that’s why I haven’t stopped asking you out for the past two years.”
“Two years.” I scrunch up my nose. “It really has been that long?” I do the math in my head and grimace. He’s right. Thing is, for most of my life I had always been in a relationship with a man, or dependent on one. I didn’t know what being single was. I didn’t know who I was outside of a relationship, and it felt nice to get to know myself.
“Yep.” He leans down to kiss me on the cheek, but his mouth lands on the corner of my lips. I tell you. He’s smooth. “Anyway, I figured you needed some space after the other night.”
“Here,” I say, handing him the flowers I just bought. “My apology.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Well, this is a first. No one has ever bought me flowers before.”
I place a hand on top of his arm. “Do you have a few minutes? I need to talk to you.”
He turns to look behind us, toward the counter where a very pretty and dainty girl with blue hair is preparing some drinks. “Winter, I’ll be back in a few. Give me a shout if you need me.”
When we step outside the coffee shop, he reclines his back on the wall while he crosses his muscled arms across his even more muscled chest. “All right, gorgeous. What is it?”
I stare at the pavement, noticing that my shoes have seen better days. “I just wanted to explain to you what happened back … you know … the other night.”
“Blaire,” the teasing tone in his voice is gone, “you don’t have to explain anything to me. We got carried away and you weren’t ready. End of story. Now, question is when do we get to try again?” he asks cheekily.
“Seriously?”
He grins. “Can’t fault a man for tryin’.”
“You’re a brave man for even thinking about it, Phoenix. I pretty much lost it. Like, total psycho move.”
He chuckles, and even the chuckle is sexy, but that’s Phoenix for you. “Can’t promise you that one day I’ll look back to that night and think of it as one of my fondest memories.”
“You’re too much.” I laugh. “So am I forgiven?”
“Always. But can I just say something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Eventually you’re going to have to let his memory go, Blaire. You’re young, smart, beautiful, and so much fuckin’ fun. A memory won’t warm your bed at night. Not like I could anyway.”
Phoenix is right. I know that, and that’s why I finally agreed to go out with him. But what happens when your heart is deaf to reason and blind to every man who isn’t a world-renowned photographer with brown eyes?
“I know, Phoenix.” I take his arm in mine, patting his hand, and walk inside the coffee shop. “I’m trying, I promise.”
“Every time I see an article written about how fucking talented he is, my hands itch to punch his pretty face,” he says angrily.