“This is us,” I say as we pull into Fifty-Seventh Street. A herd of commuters are now crowding around the door, clearly about to stream out of the train. I don’t even think about it, but I take Zoey’s hand to lead her out of the car and navigate through the swarms of people who are heading toward the exit stairs. I only let go to let her walk in front of me as we make our way up.

We don’t talk as we walk the crowded streets, her trailing slightly behind me as I traverse the three avenues to the restaurant.

When we get to the corner of Fifty-Fourth and Ninth, I pull her aside and take out my Bluetooth headset, turning it on.

“So just put this in your ear,” I say as I take out my phone and dial her number. “Can you hear me?”

“In stereo,” she says. She’s smoothing out her dress, her fingers moving up and down the fabric nervously. It’s both strangely endearing and kinda hot.

Jesus, I need to get laid soon if the sight of a girl’s fingers on her dress is making me think dirty thoughts.

“Um, you walk in first,” I say, pointing to the restaurant. “And I’ll come a few minutes behind and try to get a table where I can see you. Just remember not to react to what I’m saying to you.”

She nods.

“See you in there,” I say with what I hope is an encouraging smile.

She just nods again as she turns around and walks to the restaurant.

“Oh, and by the way, Zoey.”

“Yes?” she says, though she heeds my advice and doesn’t turn around, continuing to open the door of the restaurant.

“You look really nice today.”

CHAPTER 20 - ZOEY

CHAPTER 20

ZOEY

I don’t spot them right away; I’m too busy trying to figure out if agreeing to be Miles’s ventriloquist dummy to get through dinner with my parents represents the precise moment I lost my mind, or whether that occurred when I held his hand as we were getting off the subway. Either way, it’s too late—RIP Zoey’s sanity, wish you were here!—and I’m no longer capable of assessing anything with a clear head.