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  “Pasta? Pizza?”

  “Can we eat in your apartment? I love your new family but I don’t think I could cope with being smothered in kindness again tonight.” We had eaten in the restaurant for the last four nights and the Giancoli family, while absolutely lovely and welcoming, were also exhausting.

  Baxter’s chuckling jiggled my head, and I raised it from his shoulder and sat up straight. “Of course we can. We can even buy the pizza and sneak in my private door.” His smile faded as his eyes skimmed over my face, taking in every feature. “Do you remember when we used to grab a slice after a full day of dance?”

  I knew what he was referring to. Grabbing a slice had always led to an evening-long make-out session in my dorm room, until I’d have to smuggle him out way past curfew.

  “Yes, I remember.” My cheeks grew hot, and I knew he was reading my expression. I could never hide anything from Bax. Every thought would be etched across my face in plain sight, and he would take full advantage.

  “Are you thinking naughty thoughts, Jaz?”

  My face grew hotter, and I grinned. “Maybe just a little bit.” Biting my lip, I held eye contact. “Now who’s thinking naughty thoughts?”

  Bax sighed. “Always, Jaz. Always.”

  The train slowed, and Bax checked our surroundings out the window before grabbing my hand and standing. I must have lost track of the number of stations we’d passed through because it felt like we’d only been in transit for a few minutes. But then time always did fly by when we were together, because no matter how long we had, it was never enough.

  “Let’s go, Jazzy.”

  We stepped onto the platform and made our way up onto the street. It was growing dark but there were still crowds to navigate. I couldn’t believe the number of people, day or night, who pounded the pavement. By this time back home, the streets would be practically deserted as families gathered around dinner tables, safely behind locked doors. New York was so different and while I loved how multicultural it was, I found it a little terrifying. The crime rate, for one thing, was off the charts compared to Boston. Every five minutes a siren could be heard whooping and whining as it made its way to an emergency. It was never quiet, and I was beginning to miss the calm of my old life.

  I was so happy that Bax knew where he was going, because I had no idea where we were. We ducked and weaved past people who looked like they were focused on reaching their destination through the cold evening air as quickly as possible, until his gentle pull of my hand led me down a narrow street.

  “This place has the best pizza,” Bax told me as we entered. “But don’t tell Mama I said that.”

  I giggled as Bax pulled a comical grimace. How I had missed that face. Those inquisitive gray eyes and that shock of blonde hair that was now slicked back into a bun, the stray strands tucked behind his ears. He certainly looked different, as if he’d been pumping weights every day for the past eight years, but his face was just as cheeky, and after all this time, I still loved him with a passion that tugged at my heart.

  We ordered and waited, the aroma of pepperoni cooking filling my nostrils and making my stomach rumble. Bax leaned against the brick feature wall of the pizzeria with his arms wrapped around my waist, and I rested my head back against his broad chest.

  “You were amazing today, Jaz.” His hot breath tickled my neck and I shivered, making him laugh.

  “Thank you.” Turning my face, I kissed him quickly on the cheek.

  Smiling, he continued, “You were always great, but your technique has improved so much over the years.”

  “Your technique was pretty spot on for someone who has given up dance,” I commented, my brow cocked. “When did you actually stop?”

  He shrugged and fidgeted. “I stopped auditioning quite a few years ago, but I still dance when I get the chance.”

  I was about to press the issue of Baxter dancing and what a waste of talent it was for him to not keep trying when two girls burst through the door, drawing attention to themselves. They stopped by the counter but instead of looking at the menu to select their pizza of choice, they stared in our direction, or more specifically, at Baxter.

  Bax tensed behind me. His arms tightened protectively and I turned to look up into his face. “Do you know them?” I asked quietly.

  He shook his head, giving me a strained smile. “Never seen them before.”

  The girls were now whispering and giggling to each other and flicking their hair, their eyes never leaving Bax. One pulled her phone from her pocket and held it up, I suspected to snap off a photo of my beloved.

  “Are you sure? Because it’s okay if you do. I mean, you’ve been here on your own for years. I don’t expect you to not have made any friends.”

  The lady behind the counter called our number, indicating that our pizza was ready, and Bax hesitated before going over. The closer Bax got to the girls, the more ridiculous they acted, nudging each other, coaxing one another to approach.

  “Hi. Um, are you commando?” one of them asked as she wound a lock of hair around her finger, her eyes widening as she spoke.

  What? Why does she want to know if he’s wearing underwear? My gaze instinctively went to Baxter’s hips to see if the band of his boxers was on display above his jeans. It was, so why the stupid question?

  Bax shook his head vigorously and virtually threw the money at the woman behind the counter as she handed him our pizza box.

  Now the other girl stepped forward, not satisfied with Baxter’s response. “You look a lot like a guy we saw the other night, called Commando at—”

  “It’s not me. You’ve got the wrong guy,” Bax said, cutting her off mid-sentence as he reached for my hand and practically dragged me from the shop.

  “What was all that about?” I ran behind, trying to keep up with Bax’s purposeful strides down the narrow street. “Hey! Wait up. What’s the rush?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, and I bumped into his rock-solid shoulder. Turning, his face relaxed as a wide grin spread across it. “You really need to stop bouncing off me, Jaz.” He slung his free arm around my shoulders. “That was nothing; those girls had me confused with someone else. I just want to get this home while it’s hot. Come on.”

  I guess that made sense. There were so many people in this city, but I’d never seen anyone who resembled Bax. I chuckled to myself, two Baxter’s, they could have the other one, my hands were full already.

  The pizza was delicious. Definitely the best I’d had in a very long time. As we lounged back into the old, worn-out sofa, I rested my hands on my rounded belly, sighing contentedly. Bax patted his lap and waited while I kicked off my shoes and swung my legs around to place my feet on his legs.

  “After a long day of dance, I think you need a foot rub.” Baxter went to work kneading my arches, his face fixed in concentration. I chuckled, making him look over at me. “What’s funny?” he asked with a grin.

  “It’s not neuroscience. You look so serious.” I pulled a very serious face at him, and he burst out laughing.

  “Well, your feet are going to be worth a fortune when you’re famous. You’ll need to get them insured for millions so I need to take extra special care of them.”

  Now it was my turn to burst out laughing. “My feet will never be worth millions. I’m lucky if they’re worth two dollars each.” I wiggled my toes. “Right now they feel like they’re worth a buck and a half.”

  Bax’s hands continued working their magic, then slowly crept higher up my leg under my pants. “How does this feel?” Strong fingers worked the tight muscles in my calf.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes. “Feels wonderful,” I mumbled.

  “You could take your pants off”—my eyes sprung open—“if you want me to go higher.”

  The rapid rise and fall of Bax’s chest as he held my gaze had my heart racing. Nodding slowly, I lifted my butt and shimmied my sweatpants down my legs and off, tossing them on the floor. I was still in my dance shorts, the shorts I’d worn all d
ay in front of more than twenty people without a second thought, but exposing this much skin while lying on the sofa with only Bax in the room had my heart leaping out of my chest. I felt naked, vulnerable, and I bit my bottom lip and watched as his gaze swept over my legs and up to the apex.

  “Relax, Jaz. It’s just a leg rub.” His gaze didn’t waver as firm strokes massaged from ankle to thigh, always just stopping before my shorts. “I’m not going to do anything until you give me the signal.” His eyes flicked up to meet mine for a split second before dropping back to the task at hand. “Of course, if you want me to …” His touch softened. Feather-light fingertips ran up my inner thigh sending a wave of goose bumps in their wake.

  I sucked in a short breath. How could his touch take me from relaxed to nervous to wanting in the blink of an eye? How could a man’s hand on my leg make me feel so many emotions, and have my skin flushed with desire? Maybe it was because I knew what that man’s hand was capable of. The way he could touch me, making me feel so alive, so breathless. God, how I had missed him.

  “Bax, I’m not ready. Not yet,” I whimpered, my body betraying me as my legs parted slightly. It had been so long since we’d seen each other. I wanted to take it slow, to enjoy the build up again instead of jumping straight in where we had left off. Besides, Bax had been the only man I had ever been with, which meant I hadn’t been touched in eight years. Surely that meant I had somehow regained my status as a virgin.

  My heart sank, looking at Bax and how drop-dead gorgeous he was. Surely he hadn’t waited eight years. There must have been dozens of girls, including the two in the pizza shop that he couldn’t wait to get away from. He would have grown in experience and confidence, while I? Well, I would be totally clueless.

  I scooted over as Bax lay his bulky frame beside me. “There’s no rush, Jaz.” Butterfly kisses peppered my shoulder. “We have a lifetime.”

  Curling up in Baxter’s arms was the only place I wanted to be. As he rubbed his stubbled chin against my head, catching my hair, I closed my eyes and listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat.

  Soft lips kissed my hair, my forehead, and down my nose. “I’ve missed you so much.” He sighed. “I never stopped thinking about you. My heart broke when you didn’t come to New York after you graduated, but now you’ve mended it and it’s stronger than ever. If beats only for you. It always did.”

  I lifted my face to meet his and our lips gently met. As one hand ran into my hair, holding me in place, the tip of his tongue lightly traced the gap between my lips. I sighed, opening my mouth, welcoming him as the kiss became more urgent. My leg dropped between his, our bodies closing any gap between us. His need pressed into my hip, and I tried to reposition myself to save embarrassing him, but he pulled me back and rolled on top, grinding into me, letting me know in no uncertain terms what he wanted.

  My hands slipped under his shirt, feeling every muscle in his back as he held his weight on his forearms. My resolve was slipping at the feel of him resting above me, rubbing against me. His mouth dancing with mine had me clawing at his shirt, trying to lift it over his head and off.

  A chiming sound broke through my lust haze. My phone, alerting me to the fact I needed to be home in fifteen minutes if I was to make curfew.

  Bax sat back on his haunches, still between my legs. His normally slicked back hair was now messy, his shirt stretched and lifted to around his chest. “What’s that noise?” he asked looking around.

  I ran my hand through my own messy hair as I tried to catch my breath. “My alarm. I need to go.”

  Bax’s eyes were sad as he nodded resignedly. “You need to find somewhere else to live.”

  “I know; it’s only temporary. But I can’t afford an apartment on my own.” I had looked when I’d first moved and was surprised at just how expensive a tiny studio apartment was to rent.

  “Well, here’s a crazy idea.” Bax positioned himself propped up on one arm beside me, and I happily cuddled in. “Why don’t we do what we planned to do all those years ago and get a place together?”

  I opened my mouth to object. Surely there were reasons why we shouldn’t do it, like we hadn’t seen each other for eight years and needed to become reacquainted before jumping into a shared living arrangement.

  I lifted my gaze. The hopeful grin on Bax’s face softened my response. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  His eyes danced. “Well, a maybe is better than a flat-out no.” He nodded determinedly. “I can wait, Jaz. I’ve waited this long; at least you’re here and you’re not running in the opposite direction.”

  “I can’t …” My head shook as I tried to gather my thoughts. “I can’t give you a timeframe. It’s been so many years and I want to be sure.” I smiled at the grin still spread across Bax’s gorgeous face. “And if it does happen-”

  “When it happens,” he interjected.

  Laughing, I conceded. “When it happens we can’t get anything too expensive. I don’t earn very much and you never seem to work, so we may end up living under a bridge.”

  “Hey, I work. And I make okay money.”

  “Oh yeah? And when does this work take place? Because so far you’ve been watching me dance every day since we bumped into each other.”

  Bax laughed softly as he sat up, lifting me in the process. “As a matter of fact, I have to work tomorrow night downstairs in the restaurant, help clean up.” He swung his feet to the ground and stood, then held my hand as I joined him. “But tonight, I’m walking you home.”

  As we walked the nine blocks to the Baileys’ house that may not be my home for much longer, my mind raced. It may have been six years since I was supposed to join Bax in New York, but it was finally all coming together. He had truly forgiven me for not coming when we had planned and all the conclusions that we had both jumped to had been put to rest. There were no miscommunications, no secrets between us. After all this time, he still wanted to be with me. He still looked at me like I was the only girl in the world. He still loved me.

  THE BREEZE bit at my ears as I made my way along the familiar nine blocks to see Jaz. There was no rehearsal today; after eight straight days of auditions and then rehearsals, the dancers had a day off, and I intended to make the most of it. I’d thought a lot about what Jaz had said when we had spoken about moving in together. While I was ready to jump straight back in I had to respect that she wasn’t. We needed to take it slow, get to know each other again, and what better way to do that then to go on a date and show Jaz my beloved New York City at the same time?

  Skipping up the front steps and rapping out a tune on the hardwood door, I blew into my numb hands as I waited for the door to be answered. I wished I’d worn gloves, as my hot breath revived my fingertips; it was going to be cold where I planned on taking Jaz today.

  Jaz stepped out onto the porch in her puffy jacket and jeans. “Ready.” She chirped.

  “You’ll need gloves, a scarf, and maybe even a beanie,” I told her.

  Her eyes widened. “Where are we going?” She looked at my attire. “You don’t have gloves or a scarf.”

  “No, and I wish I did.” I tucked my hands under my arms to warm them.

  “Wait there.” Jaz darted back inside, leaving the door ajar. I stuck my head through the gap to take in the décor of a foyer that looked like it hadn’t seen a paintbrush for at least fifty years. Who were these people that Jaz was living with? Sure they must be decent enough to take her in, but this place was so rundown on the inside it could easily be mistaken for an abandoned building.

  Jaz bounded back down the rickety stairs. “Here.” She thrust a pair of brown woolen gloves in my hand and a long red scarf. “This is the best I could do on short notice, but they’re better than nothing.” I quickly wrapped the warm red scarf around my neck as Jaz pulled a pale blue beanie onto her head that matched her gloves and scarf.

  We walked the ten minutes to Grand Street station, our pace increasing with every step. “So where are we going?” Jaz beamed up at m
e, and I had to bite my tongue to stop from blurting out the answer. I knew she would love what I had planned for her today.

  Back in Boston, this time of year was her favorite for two reasons. There was nothing more beautiful than the tree-lined streets as the brown, yellow, and red leaves fell from their limbs. And if there was one thing that Jaz was good at, almost as good as dancing, it was ice skating.

  As we neared our stop I couldn’t contain my own excitement any longer. Jaz had guessed what we were doing—at least for the first part of the date—so was up and waiting by the doors as our ride came to a stop at Rockefeller Centre Station.

  “Ice skating,” she squealed before throwing her arms around my neck. “I can’t believe you remembered I love this so much.”

  Of course I’d remembered. I was like a freaking elephant who never forgot a thing, which provided me with some unbelievable memories of our time together, but which had also plagued me with heartbreaking hours of reminiscing over what I’d lost. But that was then. As Jaz grabbed my gloved hand and dragged me to the ice rink, I told myself to let it all go. This was my reality now, not the wishing and hoping, or the cursing what a dumbass I’d been for leaving when I did instead of waiting the two years for Jaz to graduate. This was real. That heart-shaped face that was flushed with excitement and exertion from trying to drag me as I resisted just a little. The undeniable joy in her beaming smile when she finally spied the ice and the enormous gold statue that stood sentry over the rink. The hotness of her breath as she once again threw her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her height so she could warm my lips with her own. This was it, and I was determined to let go of the hurt and anger of the past six years and live for now, for Jaz, for however long that may be.

  “This is perfect!” She glanced around, her eyes taking everything in until she found the skate rental sign. “Over there.” She pointed one pale blue gloved finger. “Let’s go.”

  I had to admit—I’d never been that great at figure-skating. Before I’d met Jaz all those years ago, I’d skated mainly with mates on frozen lakes that had turned into makeshift ice hockey rinks. It had been rough-and-tumble, knock-’em-down kinda stuff, not the graceful gliding that Jaz was in to. But when I’d met Jaz and wanted to spend time with her, I’d arranged for a group of us to go to an ice rink, and tried my luck at the more refined style of skating. Jaz had laughed as I’d found my balance on the thinner blades, but I had been determined to improve and had quickly been gliding right alongside her. Fast forward eight years, and ice skating had become one of those things that conjured up too many gut-churning memories, so I hadn’t even contemplated pulling on skates until now.