I don’t pull away, even though I should because he does feel safe and with that comes fear. Plus, if my brother came out here right now, he’d demand to know what the hell is going on. Those things should matter, but in this moment, they don’t.

“What did you tell everyone when you left Finn’s?” I mumble into his chest.

“That I’d track you down and bring you back.” The deep rumble of his voice against my ear and cheek causes me to hug him tighter without giving it a second thought.

He must not mind though, because he returns the gesture, pressing me harder against him.

I refuse to think about how safe I feel in his arms. The last thing I need is to fall for my brother’s best friend, my sort-of client, and a man who despises everything I love.

Chapter Eighteen

Andrew

The day after Thanksgiving, Kenzie texts me to meet her at the corner of W. 42nd Street and 5th Avenue at one o’clock for our second “make Andrew love Christmas” outing.

When we returned to Finn’s condo after I tracked Kenzie down, things were awkward, but we all feigned ignorance and carried on with some of the most inane small talk I’ve ever made in my life.

Kenzie made her exit an hour later, and I used her leaving as my own segue to get the hell out of there shortly after.

Since it’s cold today, I’m wearing a cream cable-knit sweater under my charcoal trench, dark denim paired with Blundstone boots I’ve worked in over the past few years and now fit me perfectly, and a scarf and leather gloves.

I opted against a woolly hat to preserve my hair in case the two of us grab a bite to eat after we’re done with whatever Kenzie has planned. There’s no way to not look like an eight-year-old boy with haphazard hair when you take off your hat after wearing it all day. I ignore why I would even care what Kenzie might think about my hair. Best not to examine that too hard.

And so, even though my ears are already cold as I wait for Kenzie to show, I suck it up.

A few minutes after I arrive, I spot Kenzie strolling up the sidewalk, smiling at everyone she passes. That might seem like nothing, but I assure you it’s very un–New Yorker of her. Generally, people pass one another with zero recognition that the other person even exists.

When she’s a few meters away, she spots me, and her smile grows even wider.

Heat blooms in my chest because there’s no way a woman like Kenzie can give you the full power of her smile and it not affect you.

“Hey you.” She gives me a small wave I can only refer to as cute.