Page 86 of Last First Date

I playfully rolled my eyes as I sipped the rich, aromatic wine. “Okay, okay, a lot of amazing restaurants.”

He leaned back in his chair, a look of satisfaction on his face. “That’s better.”

As we dined, I found myself picturing the day I would have to say goodbye to Knox. It was only a matter of time before he convinced Richard to let him move back to New York. I knew Richard well enough to know he loved his grandson and wanted him to be happy. If that meant Knox moved to New York, Richard would agree to it.

“Do you not like it?” Knox asked.

“What?”

“You look lost in thought and you’re pushing it around your plate,” he said.

I smiled. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“It’s been a long day.” He nodded. “Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so,” I said, smiling. “Tomorrow is going to be a wild day.”

As we hailed a cab back to the hotel, I stole glances at Knox, wondering if he was grappling with the inevitable return to reality.

“Thanks for showing me around,” I said. “It was a lot of fun.”

“I hope you’re not too disappointed we didn’t hit all the touristy spots.”

“Your personal tour has been much more enlightening,” I told him.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Maybe next time I’ll take you to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“Next time?”

“There’s a lot to see here,” he said.

“Then I would like to see it with you.”

Riding back to the hotel, we sat side by side in comfortable silence. When we walked into the lobby, I started for the elevators, but he stopped me.

“Would you like to get a nightcap in the lounge?”

I hesitated, glancing toward the elevators. It had been a long day, and I would love to crash into bed, but spending a little more time with Knox was more appealing.

I nodded. “Sure, a nightcap sounds great.”

The lounge was dim and cozy, bathed in a mellow light that reflected off gleaming surfaces. Soft jazz floated through the air. I followed Knox to the bar and took a seat next to him.

He ordered for us, two glasses of Macallan. His hand brushed against mine as he passed me my drink. That familiar jolt of electricity shot up my arm, causing me to shudder slightly. He noticed and sent me a questioning glance.

“Just a bit cold,” I lied, taking a sip from the rich amber liquid. My eyes squeezed closed as the smooth scotch slid down my throat.

He nodded, apparently accepting my explanation. We both leaned back on the barstools. Once again, I felt like I was living someone else’s life. I was drinking expensive scotch in an upscale lounge in the city that never sleeps with a handsome man who used to model underwear. It was surreal.

Knox raised his glass toward me in a silent toast and I clinked my glass against his. We savored our drinks, the silence between us comfortable yet charged.

“This is one of those moments I’m going to remember for a long time,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t exactly the kind of thing you’ll find in Utah,” I said.

“Definitely not,” he muttered.