Interception (The New York Nighthawks 2) - Page 6

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Ember

I probably should have just grabbed a rideshare to the Upper East Side, but traffic tended to be a beast, so taking the 6 train saved me some time. However, I hadn’t considered the fact that I was usually dressed like a college student in yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt with my hair pulled into a ponytail when I took the subway. Wearing a tight dress and heels with my hair and makeup done up for a date was a different—and not entirely comfortable—experience. Something I should have realized when a few people in my study group asked me why I was so dressed up while one of the guys kept giving me weird looks.

At least the ride was making me anticipate my blind date a little more. I couldn’t wait to get off the train and meet up with Jordan at the restaurant he’d picked for dinner. Prentice’s teammate had obviously been looking forward to tonight because he’d somehow gotten us a last-minute reservation at Daniel.

It was a good thing Naomi had talked me into buying this dress. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had anything appropriate to wear to the Michelin-starred French restaurant that was known as a place to go to see and be seen. Eating there was way out of my league, but professional football players had a much different lifestyle than poor college students.

I had gotten used to seeing Prentice drop money on my best friend like it was no big deal, but I hadn’t expected Jordan to spend that kind of cash on our first date. His restaurant choice seemed like overkill for a girl he didn’t know. I was hoping that it was a favorite of his and not a sign of how he hoped the night would go because I still wasn’t sure if meeting him for dinner was a good idea when I had feelings for his teammate instead. But it was too late to back out now…and doing so would have Naomi asking questions I didn’t want to answer.

Focusing on the delicious food I was about to eat tonight, I stepped off the train and made my way out of the station. In an attempt to get psyched up for my date, I pulled up the restaurant’s menu online, and as I read it, my taste buds salivated over the Wagyu Beef Striploin and pretty much all of the desserts. During the few minutes it took me to walk an avenue block on East 68th and three blocks down Park Ave, I mentally debated between the milk and dark chocolate options.

I had just decided on the milk chocolate dessert as I crossed over 65th when someone rushed toward me from the Mayfair House’s restaurant entrance. When I recognized the tall, muscular body stalking toward me, I took a step back and almost stumbled off the curb. Pressing my hand against my chest, I gasped, “What in the heck are you doing here, Nixon? You scared the crap out of me.”

“I can’t let you go on your date.”

My heart was already racing, and his answer only made it speed up more. With his brown hair, dark blue eyes, and chiseled jaw, Naomi’s brother was hot enough to make me seriously consider throwing myself at him, no questions asked. But this man had given me no indication that he was even the slightest bit interested in me since we’d met…and I would have noticed because I’d been looking for them. He owed me some answers for showing up here like this after all the times he’d made me feel as though he would never be interested in someone like me.

Planting my hands on my hips, I asked, “Why can’t I go into that amazing restaurant to have the date your sister set up with the very eligible bachelor who might actually be into me?”

Nixon’s nostrils flared as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist to drag me up the sidewalk and around the corner of the building. Then he backed me up against the stone building and pressed his hands on either side of my head, leaning close. “I think it’ll be better if I show you instead.”

My lips parted of their own volition, as though they knew he was going to bend his head to kiss me before my brain caught up with what was happening. When he pressed his mouth against mine, I felt a bolt of electricity shoot straight to my core. It was almost impossible to believe that the man I’d had a bajillion fantasies about was actually kissing me…which was why I forced myself to press my palms against his chest before I lost all sense of reason.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed after his head lifted.

“Kissing you.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “And I plan on doing it a fuck of a lot more.”

Tags: Fiona Davenport The New York Nighthawks Romance
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