We walk outside, joining the rush-hour traffic. It’s just past seven and there are people everywhere. I glance around, wondering if Pietro is watching me right now. My skin tingles at the thought, which leads me to imagine his dark eye
s penetrating me. If it weren’t for Jacob, I’d be heading straight back to my apartment, because suddenly it wasn’t my appetite that needed satisfying.
The restaurant is actually a cute little café opposite Union Square that I would have had no idea existed if it wasn’t for Jacob. I haven’t even tried the food, and I’ve already decided it’s my new favorite place. Bright and colorful, the retro setting is eye-catching and fresh, and we slide into a booth. I reach for the menu, my stomach letting me know how hungry I am.
“The food here is great. This is was my go-to place after college nearly every night for four years.”
“So you live in New York, then?” I say, surprised. I don’t know why, but I didn’t pick him as a local.
“I moved here to study dance in college. Before that I was back home in Massachusetts with my family,” Jacob answers.
“How did you find moving here right out of high school?” I ask. “I’m struggling being away from home, even now.”
“It was good in a way because there were so many in the same situation. I made heaps of new friends, which helped lessen the homesickness.” He studies the menu and then nods decisively. “I highly recommend the seafood tacos.”
I screw up my nose. “Uh, I don’t like fish.”
“Chicken nachos, then?”
“Perfect.” I grin, snapping my menu closed.
We order our food and some drinks, and while we’re waiting, we get to know each other a little better, only taking a break to eat when our food finally arrives.
“Oh, this is good,” I say. “How’s yours?”
“Really nice,” he replies, shoving a taco into his mouth. “My girlfriend back home was part Mexican. She got me hooked on this stuff.”
He laughs and alarm bells ring in my head. His girlfriend? Shit.
I thought he was the perfect guy to make Pietro jealous because he was gay. There was no risk of me leading him on if he didn’t dig chicks. How could I have read him so wrong?
“You okay there?” he asks, watching me closely. I push my plate away, my stomach queasy.
“I think I better go,” I mumble. “I’m so sorry. I was feeling sick this morning, and I think the spice is not settling well with me.”
He stands up with me. “Let me walk you home, then.”
“No, please stay and finish yours. Maybe we can do this again another time?” I ask. I don’t wait for an answer. Instead, I grab my bag and make a beeline for the door.
—
Outside, I quickly walk back down toward my apartment. Fuck. How could I have gotten it so wrong? I was sure he was gay. Only apparently he’s not. I shiver, rubbing my hands over the arms of my sweater in an effort to warm my body against the cold. When that doesn’t work I reach into my bag to retrieve my jacket, threading it over my arms.
I pick up my pace when I realize that I’m a woman walking alone at night in a city I’m still getting used. Only then do I notice the figure sauntering toward me from the opposite direction. His dark clothing and hooded face make it difficult for me to make out much, but my gut tells me I don’t want to mess with this guy.
“Looking sexy, Mama,” he says, smirking.
I ignore him as he slows to a stop to watch me. I keep walking, my apartment building now in my line of vision. I can feel him behind me now. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Why you in such a hurry? Slow down and talk to me, baby. Maybe we can have some fun.”
I quicken my pace, trying to work out how to lose this fuckwit. The last thing I want is for him to know where I live, so crossing the street and entering my apartment is not an option. I keep walking, doing my best not to engage with him, but the more I ignore him the harder he seems to try.
When he grabs at my arm, I spin around. His dark eyes are cloudy and his breath reeks of stale beer. I step back, yanking my arm away from him as he chuckles. This is a game for him. He’s nearly twice my size, and I don’t doubt he could snap me like a twig if he wanted me to.
“I like a girl with a little fire.” He laughs, staggering toward me. I cry out as he grabs my shoulder, pulling me back against him. Struggling to break free from his hold, I knee him in the groin, disabling him momentarily, but not enough to make him loosen his hold on me.
“Hey, leave her alone.”