Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Should I be jealous of your appetizer?” Anthony asks, his eyes darkening at the sound.
I moan again. “Yes. I think I just cheated on you with shellfish.”
He laughs and we return to discussing ideas for warming up his big, empty apartment, both of us agreeing that we want something more like the Airbnb, a place full of thoughtfully chosen objects that remind us of things we love. As the main course arrives—herb-crusted lamb for him, duck breast for me—we move on to plans for the guest room and a special play structure for Pudge in the hallway beside the library.
And yes, my new home has a library, and yes, I’m appropriately thrilled about it.
“And a kitten friend for Pudge too, maybe?” Anthony asks. “I mean, he’ll get lonely in the house with us gone at work all day. I’ll be home more for a while, but I got an email from Columbia earlier, saying they’d be thrilled for me to fill in for one of their professors when she goes on maternity leave in March.”
“Oh my God! That’s amazing,” I say, beaming at him across the table. “You should have told me.”
“The email arrived this morning, just before we went into the closing, and I got distracted,” he says, a hopeful smile on his face. “But I think I’m going to accept. It’s a great chance to try out teaching for a shorter period of time before committing to something long-term.”
“It’s perfect,” I agree, lifting my glass of pinot noir. “To your new gig. I’m so happy for you.”
We toast again and I promise myself this is my last glass of wine. I don’t want to be too tipsy to enjoy the rest of the night or, God forbid, hung over tomorrow morning. I’m looking forward to breakfast and move-in day way too much for that.
I’m looking forward to everything waiting for us in the future.
As midnight approaches, we move to the window to watch the city celebrate far below. Anthony wraps his arms around me, and I lean back against his chest, struck all over again by how much he feels like home.
“Ten seconds,” he murmurs in my ear. “Do you have your resolution ready?”
“I do,” I say, gazing at him over my shoulder.
“Tell me,” he murmurs.
The countdown begins, voices rising around us, but we’re in our own world. I turn in his arms, wanting to see his face when the year changes.
“I’m going to keep being fearless,” I say. “And keep falling madly in love with you.”
“Ditto,” he says, just as the crowd reaches “one” and shouts of Happy New Year fill the room. He kisses me slow and deep—my first New Year’s kiss ever—making my toes curl in my heels. By the time we part, fireworks are exploding over the city, streaking the sky with color.
We watch the show, oohing and ahhing along with everyone else, letting ourselves be swept up in the magic. The last of the display is ending and we’re about to head back to our table, when my phone buzzes several times in my clutch. I pull it out to see a string of photographs from Elaina of Sully and Weaver embracing at the cat café New Year’s Eve party she throws every year, Sully now sporting a giant ring on her left hand.
I suck in a happy breath. “Oh my God! Weaver proposed! And Sully said yes.” I turn the phone toward Anthony, making him smile.
“Good for them,” he says. “I had a feeling about them from the moment they met.”
I had that feeling, too.
And I have that feeling now, about us. I wouldn’t be surprised to be engaged before next New Year’s Eve. Like Anthony said, when you know, you know, and I already know there’s never going to be anyone as perfect for me as him.
We hit the dance floor again, spinning until my feet start to ache, then return to our table for dessert—a chocolate soufflé that melts on my tongue and sets me to moaning a second time.
“I’m jealous again,” he says with a playful arch of his brow. “Can I please take you home now, before I have to challenge that soufflé to a duel?”
“A duel?” I ask as I lick chocolate from my spoon. “Sounds exciting. But yes, I’m ready to go. We need to see if that bed is as comfortable as it looked.”
“And if that bathtub is big enough for two,” he adds, motioning for the check.
Spoiler alert—the bathtub is totally big enough for two, and as Anthony gives me a very naughty bath I’ll never forget, I’m more excited for the new year than ever.
The future is looking bright.
So bright that I’m not surprised when Sydney texts a short time later to share that she’s pregnant and expecting a baby in July. And that she wants Elaina, me, and Sully to all be godmothers for her little one.