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I grabbed my phone off the table. “I’m just going to leave before he gets here. Tell him I got sick or something.”
I hopped off the bar stool before either one of them could stop me and walked as quickly as I could toward the exit. I didn’t want Mason to see me like this. I grabbed the door handle and almost ran outside. As soon as I turned the corner I ran straight into someone.
I instantly smelled his cologne. Which made my knees feel slightly weak. His hands were securely on my hips. I looked up at Mason Caldwell’s handsome face. All I wanted was for him to lean down and kiss me.
“What are you doing here?” I said without moving. I didn’t want him to take his hands off me.
His lips curled into a smile. “I’m taking you home.”
“Your home or my home?”
His eyebrows lowered slightly. “Your home.”
“I think I’d rather see your home.” Apparently cosmos made me ridiculously forward.
“You’re drunk.”
“And you’re handsome.”
“Let’s get you home.” He let go of my waist and draped his arm across my shoulders.
I felt safe next to him. I liked how tall and muscular he was. I let my head rest against his shoulder.
We stopped on the curb and he put his hand out for a taxi.
“We can just take the subway,” I said. “It’s a block away.”
“I don’t ride the subway.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I just haven’t in a long time.”
“Do rich people not ride the subway or something?”
“I guess you could say that.” His arm tightened around me.
I wasn’t sure if I had felt this warm since winter had started in this stupid city. “Why did you come?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“Marie and Kendra would have taken me home.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“Safe? Hmm. I assumed you didn’t actually like me. You never texted me back.” I breathed in his scent.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
I looked up at him. He had told me he wanted to be the reason why I stayed in New York. I was beginning to think his dirty words and cool demeanor were all just an act. He did like me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have come here to take care of me. Patrick had never really taken care of me. Even when I was sick, he just avoided me. Mason wasn’t the same as him. Mason was so much better.
A taxi stopped in front of us. He opened up the door for me and held my hand as I stepped inside. I didn’t want him to take me home. I wanted this to be the start of the night, not the end. I slid into the middle seat to ensure that he’d be right next to me.
He smiled as he climbed in next to me. “West 96th Street,” he said to the taxi driver.
The car immediately pulled off the curb.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your place?” I put my hand on his knee.
