The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends

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The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends Page 60

by Kayley Loring


  I retrieve the small yellow card from the dispenser and hold it up to the neon lights so I can read it.

  A new turn of events will soon come about. A happy reunion with a loved one will make life all that you ever wanted it or dreamed it to be …

  Well. Wouldn’t that be nice.

  I look around, spotting no one that I recognize, no wavy hair bobbing up and down through the crowds.

  It’s stupid to stay here. I should just go home.

  Looking up at the Wonder Wheel, I remember the story that Chase told me about Deno and his wife, and the sweet young couple that had gotten engaged while we were on it. I wonder if that couple is married already, if they’re still together. I’m sure they are.

  I decide to ride the Wonder Wheel by myself, just once before I go.

  Okay, that was a terrible idea.

  Riding the roller coaster while tipsy was somehow less nauseating, possibly because it was constant motion. Sitting alone in one of those cars while it rolled and swayed back and forth mid-air was just horrifying. I didn’t puke, but I felt so stupid. Even with the beautiful view, all I could think about was how it just felt wrong to be here without Chase. I think it would feel wrong to be anywhere without Chase. It doesn’t matter how we got to the place of being together, or who else is around, all that matters to me is that I’m with him. I’ll take it all, including the questionable best friend. The bitter and the sweet and all of the surprising, unexpected flavor combinations that I have never experienced before.

  I cannot climb out of that hell car fast enough. My legs are wobbly, my brain is wobbly, but I am determined to get home so I can call Chase. I nearly trip while I’m rushing out the exit, so I slow down and watch the ground in front of my feet. That doesn’t help at all because I smash right into someone.

  “Sorry!” I say, without looking up.

  A man’s hands grip my arms, and as soon as he touches me, I feel drunk again.

  “Don’t be,” he says.

  I throw my arms around his neck. “You’re here. I can’t believe you found me.” He would totally find me and rescue me if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse.

  “I thought I heard you screaming.”

  “I’m sorry I left you.”

  “I’m sorry I left you, but don’t ever walk around New York without a phone again.”

  I kiss him all over his face. I run my fingers through his glorious hair. He kisses me so hard and holds me so tight that I can barely breathe. It’s all Chase’s lips and spinning neon lights and guys hooting and hollering around us. We are twenty-seven and reckless and in love and together.

  “Aimee,” he says, so serious that I worry something’s wrong.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” He kisses my forehead. “Listen to me.” He kisses my cheekbone. “You’re my best friend now. I love you. You’ve become the most important thing in my life. I didn’t plan for this, so I don’t have a ring for you yet, but I want you to know that I want to marry you. I’ve known it deep down ever since the first time we were standing here. I’ve known it since the second I saw you. I want you. You’re mine.”

  “Yes. You’re mine.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to marry you too … Wait. Are you proposing to me?”

  “Yes.” He laughs. “Are you accepting my proposal?”

  I smile and raise both hands in the air, jumping up and down and screaming like that girl from a few months ago. “We’re engaged! We just got engaged!”

  He covers his face, shaking his head. “You’re drunk.”

  “Yes. I am. On you. And you’re gonna marry me!”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  My lips smash into his again.

  What a night.

  We are twenty-seven and reckless and in love and reunited by the Wonder Wheel, and the only thing stopping me from dry humping Chase McKay in the middle of Luna Park is knowing that I’ll be able to come home to him every day and every night for the rest of my life.

  Epilogue

  Every Day, Every Night

  CHASE

  **TWO YEARS LATER**

  We’ve been to a lot of weddings together since Greg Lee’s, and all of them were a more pleasant experience for us than that one. But this one takes the cake. And by cake, I mean the massive Italian wedding cake that my mom made. This is the best cake I’ve ever had, and the best wedding I’ve ever been to, because this one is ours. This is the wedding of Aimee Lynn Gilpin to Chase Luca McKay.

  While I can easily afford to pay for this whole event, once word got out to our clients half a year ago that we’d finally picked a date, so many local businesses volunteered their services and gifted us their products—from the flower arrangements to the venue. This huge loft in Greenpoint is perfect, with the view of the river and beyond, but what really does it for me is the hanging strings of warm white lights. They’ve always made me want to feel in love, and I do. Every day, every night, ever since I met my wife.

  She looks so beautiful in her wedding dress—truly glowing and giddy despite her inability to drink the champagne or the Irish whiskey.

  Roxy is wrapping up her maid of honor speech, which has been paused three times by Aimee getting up to hug her. Turns out Foxy Roxy is a total cheeseball beneath the surface. That’s not surprising to me, given who her best friend is.

  Now it’s time for the best man to take over the microphone. Aimee rubs my thigh and gives Keaton a hoot and holler. That they have become friends in the past couple of years is something that did surprise me, and it moves me that my two best friends are good friends now too.

  This woman. My wife. She still moves me, like nothing else can.

  “Hey everyone, I’m Keaton Bridges.” He clears his throat. I can tell he’s getting choked-up already. “It’s an honor for me to have the title of best man tonight, but Chase McKay is the best man that I know. A little over two years ago, I showed up at a bar one night, late for meeting my best friend, after begging him to come out for a drink with me. I made a bee-line for this beautiful woman that was standing next to him and bought her a drink, because that’s what I do. Chase went back to the office to work, because that’s what he does. Little did I know, he had spent about half an hour falling for that beautiful woman before I showed up. But he saw how much I liked her, and he let me go for it. That’s another thing that he does. He observes, he thinks, he makes quick smart decisions that he believes are best for everyone in the long-term, and he doesn’t make a fuss. The beautiful woman was so nice and polite—it took her an entire month to get it through my thick skull that she wasn’t interested in me. No accounting for taste I guess.

  It took me another few months to figure out what Chase and Aimee knew from the moment they met—that they are perfect together. I’ve known Chase since we were in college, and he’s always been the guy that everyone wanted to be around, the guy that made me a better person. But when he and Aimee are together, they become this metaphorical third thing that’s better than anything I’ve ever witnessed. They’ve created an awesome new home together, a successful new company, and now …” He pauses, to clear his throat again. I’ve never seen Keaton’s eyes tear up before, but it’s happening now, in front of two hundred and fifty people.

  “Now they’re creating an actual third person for all of us to love, and I want you both to know that I will do anything I can for you and your family, always.” He looks down at me and gives me the grin that makes his face more recognizable. “You complete me. And she completes you. I love you, man.”

  He puts down the microphone, and I get up to hug him for maybe the second time in our lives.

  “I love you too, man.”

  Aimee gets up to hug him, and he rubs her belly.

  I look around the room, at my parents and grandparents, Aimee’s parents and grandparents, our partners and co-workers and clients and friends from all over.

  No matter how many bad choices we’ve made in our past, tonigh
t there is good food, good music, good drinks, good people, and I get to enjoy it with the one person I’ve found who matters more to me than anyone else.

  (Bonus) Epilogue Two - Aimee

  “These are from the gentlemen at Table Four,” the waitress tells us, as she places two more strawberry margaritas in front of us. “The ones who are chowing down on the Classic Fridays Combo. And here are your mozzarella sticks.”

  “Thank you so much! And could I get an order of the Kids Chicken Tenders to go, for later? Thank you, Sandy.” I give her a big smile.

  “Sure.”

  No one seems to be thanking God that it’s Friday tonight at the Brooklyn TGI Fridays, but I’m happy to be out with Roxy anyway.

  “Do not smile and wave at the Combo guys,” Roxy mutters.

  I smile and wave at the Combo guys. “Thank you!”

  “She’s married and has a kid!” Roxy yells over her shoulder.

  I raise my glass to them. “Still love margaritas, though!” I take a sip of the drink and then surreptitiously take hold of my phone, which I’ve been hiding under the napkin on my lap. “So. Are you seeing anyone?” I ask Roxy, while opening the messages app under the table and staring right at her. It’s the first time we’ve been able to meet face-to-face in two months and we have a lot of catching up to do.

  “No one special. Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “How many not special someones are you seeing?”

  “A few. Are you texting your husband to tell him those guys sent over drinks?”

  “Did I mention how hot you look with bangs? Are you still going to the same stylist?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Just text your husband, Mrs. McKay. It’s fine.”

  It has been over four years since I became Mrs. McKay, and I still get butterflies every time I say or hear the word “husband.” Husband husband husband. I check my phone to see what I ended up texting my husband. I had tried to type out “Some very kind gentlemen just sent over a couple of margaritas!” What I actually typed out was: So very ki gets fffjisoddddmmmm.

  I follow that up with a but at the same time, he replies: Margaritas?

  I write back: Man bun. See you in an hour. And then I place my phone on the table so my best girlfriend can see that she has my full attention, but I can also see if my nanny tries to contact me about my son.

  I’ve been sending dirty texts to Chase’s personal phone all day. I can’t help it. He’s Professor Sexy Man Bun today because we had a lunch meeting with investors. I love working with that man. I love the company we started. Going to the office every day is a joy and I’m always grateful. But trying to keep my hands off of my husband while we’re in a work environment is a full-time job that I am hardly qualified for.

  After our last meeting of the day, he went to meet up with Keaton at Locanda Graziella and I came here to meet Roxy. We both miss being able to see our friends as often as we’d like to, but gosh darn it, I cannot wait to get home so I can kiss Finn goodnight and then have some private time with Mr. Chase McNotOkayToLookThatHotUnlessYouFuckMeRightNowDammit. He knows exactly what it does to me when he dresses like that.

  “So Keaton doesn’t have a hot date with some socialite supermodel tonight?” Roxy inquires, while staring at the mozzarella stick between her fingers.

  “Doesn’t sound like it. I don’t think he’s seeing anyone special right now either.”

  “Hmph. Whaddya know.” Roxy gets a far-off look that makes no sense to me. Until I remember that we’re both on our second margarita.

  I know Roxy loves being single, but I hope she finds her Chase one of these days.

  I reach out to squeeze her arm. “Tell me more about you.”

  My cab pulls up in front of our place right when my husband is about to reach our front door. When he sees me, he pauses on the doorstep, putting his keys back in his pocket. He’s smirking as he watches me saunter in an almost straight line up the path to meet him. As soon as I’m up the steps, I drop my purse and takeout bag, pull him to me by his lapels, and lay a big fat kiss on him.

  His tongue tastes like toffee and sherry and licorice and spice and mine all mine all mine. I may have just crossed the border from Tipsy Town to Drunkitydrunkville.

  When I finally remove my mouth from his, Chase licks his lips and says, “Mmm. Strawberry. Exactly how drunk are you right now?”

  “Slightly to moderately lit.”

  He laughs, shaking his head.

  “It’s funny how you never point out how sober I am for twenty-nine days of every month. Except Febooyary. Febrenary. Febri… Why can’t I say that word?”

  “Because you’re moderately to very lit. And really adorable.”

  “And an extremely sexy lady boss mom.”

  “Yep. What’s in the bag? Let me guess. Chicken fingers for Finn?”

  I pick up the bags and straighten myself up before Chase unlocks the front door. “You’re such a food snob. He’ll be so stoked if we let him eat this for breakfast.”

  “Fries come with that?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You’re a good mom.”

  Lord. Only my husband can whisper that sentence and make it sound sexy.

  We relieve the nanny of her duties and tiptoe into Finn’s bedroom. Our four-year-old son is sound asleep, clinging to the undead teddy bear that we zombified to go with his Halloween costume. His wavy brown hair is all over his sweet face. It’s getting long, the way I like it. But Chase will want to trim it. It’s so funny that he thinks his son’s hair should be kept short and neat. It’s one of the few things we argue about. I press a kiss to my fingertips and carefully sweep the hair out of his face with them.

  I watch as Chase lowers himself to kiss the top of Finn’s head. He is so gentle with him, but always firm when he needs to be. Always rational and responsible. Always teaching Finn how to savor tastes, even when he was consuming baby food. And he has calmly indulged me while I’ve been emotionally preparing our son for a zombie apocalypse ever since he was three. Being able to witness this man as a father is almost as big of a turn-on as his eyes and those lips and that hair and those hands…

  Those hands are all up in my hair as soon as we shut the door to our bedroom. His urgent kisses, the way he undresses me, the growing restless passion—it’s almost like the first time—every single time. When I’m wearing only my bra and panties, I pull back and remove his jacket, unbutton his shirt, unfasten that belt. Slowly, slowly. Because we have the rest of the night, and the rest of our lives together.

  “You are so fucking beautiful. I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he says, making that deep, guttural sound that I love.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this every day since I met you.” This, only this. From the moment I saw you. I’ve wanted everything, everything with you, but always, always this. He always satisfies me in every possible way, but my hunger for him still somehow remains insatiable. One look, one touch, and I’m trembling with desire. I always want more, and he always manages to give it to me.

  “Baby. I missed you at dinner. You have a good night?” he asks, as if he isn’t totally hard and dying to be inside of me.

  “Yes. I did. But it’s about to get better. Now drop those pants and get on the bed. This is not a drill.”

  And he does.

  Because he’s the greatest lover I’ve ever had. My best friend. My husband. The father of my child.

  Every day. Every night.

  He’s mine.

  Acknowledgments

  My heartfelt thanks to:

  Neda Amini, for making my life a little easier and this story a little simpler

  Mo Sytsma, for the beta read

  Karen McVino/Expressive Editing, for the polish

  Regina Wamba, for capturing an image that captured my heart and imagination

  Alyssa Garcia, for turning that image into a beautiful cover

  Anna, for being the most adorable and supportive reader ever


  All of you lovely readers who have let me know that you’re out there, it means so much to me

  And to all the book bloggers, your passion for reading and supporting authors is

  inspiring and important and very much appreciated

  Special thanks to Mackenzie Cartwright & Teddy Hamilton for lending their voices to the audiobook version and making my words funnier, sexier, sweeter and more romantic.

  Spotify Playlist

  If you would like to listen to some of the songs that I listened to over and over and over again while writing this book…

  Tonight You're Mine Spotify Playlist

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