Head Over Feels

A smile splits his cheeks. “I can’t believe you considered moving back to Texas. You know we’d help you however we could.”

“I know,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “It’s just . . . I’m the one who helps others in need. I don’t want to put my problems on you guys.”

“You’d rather leave us?”

“No. I’d rather stay. Texas was a last resort.” I smile and look out the window. “I can’t imagine leaving the city. It’s become a part of my identity.” Touching his arm, I add, “I want you to know that I’ll pay you rent.”

“We can worry about the details later.”

Maybe he can worry about the details another time, but my money is accounted for down to the penny. Spying his modern and incredible building ahead, I know it’s a conversation we need to have sooner than later. I’m thinking half the rent of his apartment is going to mean selling some things and dipping into my savings. “Or tonight.”

“After dinner?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth rising with it.

“Deal.”

“Just one question.”

“Okay.” I grin, and say, “Shoot.”

He slows the car on approach to the luxury residence. “When do you need to move in?”

“Friday. Is that too soon?”

Smirking, he shifts gears. “Perfect timing.”

4

Rad

“You must love living here,” Tealey says.

Pulling into the underground garage of the streamlined, modern structure reminds me of how far it had come. It was formerly a dilapidated, bordering on condemned, four-story building that housed a tailor on the top floor, a pillow manufacturer on the third, a law firm on the second, and a deli on the first, dating back to 1921.

The bricks were crumbling around it and stood out like an eyesore on the prestigious block. The owner refused to sell it to anyone because of their visions of tearing it down and building an “ugly,” as he called it, rectangle.

There’s no changing the shape, but I presented him with an innovative design, and he sold it to me under the condition that I would live there for three years before selling. I bought the building as an investment, but I had no problem sticking to the agreement. I love this place. Although I dipped into one of my trust funds, I scored a deal and kept the elements that could be saved intact during the renovation.

“It’s a nice place to come home to,” I say, parking the car. “I guess you’ll get to experience that too.”

She looks at me and grins. I’ll never get tired of seeing her like this.

We take the elevator, which opens into the apartment. She’s been here many times over the years and even knows the code to get in the building, so when I hang my keys on a hook and toss my jacket on the back of the couch as I pass, why does it feel different with her following me this time?

Why do I feel different?

This is nothing more than a friend helping a friend. That’s all.

I’m starting to wonder how many times I’m going to have to say that before I believe it.

Tealey leans against the bar and watches me as I roll up my shirtsleeves and then activate the lights on the same keypad. The lighting in the corners goes from dim to brighter, setting an ambiance usually reserved for the end of a rough day.

I enter the kitchen as she pushes off and walks the length of the windows from one end of the room to the other. “You’re spoiled with the views you have at the office and your apartment. Does it ever get old?”

“No.” I chuckle, checking my liquor cabinet. “I’m out of tequila, but I can order some.”

“It’s okay. No need. What do you have?”

“Water, wine, whiskey, whatever you want, you get?” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I set it on the counter.

“White wine.”

“Sauvignon blanc from New Zealand, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

I pull a bottle from the wine fridge.

“What kind of tacos? I can order an assortment.”

She smiles. “Sounds great.”

I place an order and then pour her a glass of wine and a bourbon neat for myself. I take my time, giving me a few seconds to drink her in—the delicate curve where her neck meets her shoulder, the graceful way she stands with her arms clasped over each other, and the messy hair. I can’t say I haven’t thought about kissing her neck in the past or telling her that my crush has existed as long as I’ve known her. It would be a mistake, though, so I keep this silly crush to myself and hand her the glass.

“Here you go. The taco delivery is going to take a while. They just got hit with some large orders. Want to go to the rooftop while we wait?”

She pops to her feet. “Thought you’d never ask.”