“Not exactly an apartment. We have the penthouse, and each of us has his own separate suite of rooms in there. So when we’re in my part, none of the others will cross your path,” he says, trying to dispel any possible misgivings. “And if anyone comes knocking, then it’s usually because they’ve run out of hair gel or something like that.”
I nod slowly.
He parks and we get out of the car. He grabs both our suitcases, and then we walk over to an elegant-looking stairway, where he inserts a key into the elevator panel. “I hope it gets here quick so we don’t have to ride with the rest,” he says. “I want to spend as much time alone with you as possible.”
“Oh,” I breathe, and then the doors open with a soft ping.
Linden pulls me in with him and presses the “close” button when he sees his friends approaching. Azer breaks into a run to stop the elevator doors, but he’s too late.
“Barely made it.” Linden grins.
“That was rather mean,” I state.
“They’ll survive. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you all the things we’ve already done to each other in the realm of pranks and jokes.” He grins, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
“Y’all are like naughty children.” I giggle.
“Men turn seven, and after that, all they do is grow in height and girth,” he replies, deadpan.
I’m still laughing when the doors of the elevator open on the top floor. We step out into the fancy penthouse space. “Oh, wow,” I blurt when I see the black marble tiles. My dad has a crapload of money, but there is nothing even remotely this precious in his house. Okay, so I’m impressed with the floor tiles, judge me all you want. Linden leads me through the vast hall and into his own part of the penthouse, which is like a separate apartment. This place must be worth a not-so-small fortune.
Linden closes the door behind us and looks at me. “What do you want to do?”
I shrug, still overwhelmed by it all. “I don’t know. What is there to do?”
“Baby, we’re in New York City. There’s practically everything.”
I produce a noncommittal sound and lift an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to do anything right now?”
“Then we could just kick back and watch a movie,” he suggests.
“That would actually be a good start.” I smile.
“What would you like to watch?”
“Well, what do you have?”
“Video on demand. Basically anything you can think of,” he says with a smirk. “Let’s bring our bags into the bedroom first, and then we can choose a movie and order some food.”
I open my arms to show him that I don’t have a bag and nod. “Okay.”
“Okay, right. I’ll bring our bags into the bedroom, and then we’ll order food and decide on a movie.”
“Sounds good. Can you show me to the living room first?” I ask.
“You’re standing in the middle of it.” He chuckles and points to my right. “There’s the couch.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I make a dweeb face and walk over to the couch, flopping down on it as Linden disappears into the bedroom. This area is very different from the rest of the penthouse, or rather, from the common room I’ve seen. Modern furniture dominates this large room, and there are a few paintings on the walls that were probably done by an unknown artist, because I’ve never seen paintings like that. And then it seems as if Trish went all out with the decorating, because there are seriously ugly porcelain figurines everywhere! Things like angels, elves, and tiny kittens—all of them unbelievably tacky and awful. There is also a framed photograph of the two of them on a side table. I pick it up and look at them closely. She is totally the model type: thin, blonde, straight white teeth, a pretty smile. “It’s crazy that he wants me instead of her,” I murmur, putting it back.
“Did you say something?” Linden suddenly asks from behind me.
I start. “What?”
“I asked if you say something,” he repeats. “You were mumbling to yourself..”
“Oh. Nothing important,” I say sheepishly.
He sits down next to me and asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say softly. “I was just looking at that photo of you and Trish, and asking myself what you see in me when you can have a woman like her.”
“I’m convinced I’ve found a much better person in you. Thally, you’re a wonderful, breathtaking, intelligent, tough woman. And, for you, this isn’t about being with Linden Priest, lead singer of Downstair Alley. It’s about me. Just Linden. You are the person I’ve been dreaming of. You’re the person I want to spend all my time with.” He takes my hand and places it against his chest, so I can feel his heartbeat. “You’re the one that is in here, while Trish was only ever the right person in my head,” he murmurs. “You’re the one my heart chose.”
I blink away tears. Yes, I’m actually crying, his words have touched me that deeply.
“Why are you crying?” he asks softly, sounding as if he knows he’s guilty.
“Wow,” I sniffle. “Nobody has ever said a thing like that to me and … wow.” I offer him an overwhelmed smile, and he takes me in his arms.
“You are the woman of my dreams, Thalia Leroux.”
“If you don’t want me to start bawling in earnest, you should shut up now,” I joke, and then I can feel his chest vibrate with laughter. I nestle my cheek even closer against it.
“I’ll be quiet,” he says after his laughter has ceased. “Are you okay?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I wasn’t not okay. I was just touched. And I still am.”
“‘If you can make a girl laugh, you know she likes you, but if you can make her cry, you know she loves you,’” Linden quotes, pulling back a little so he can look me in the eyes. “I know our feelings are completely irrational and that we’ve fallen in love far too quickly, but I don’t care.” He smiles and then kisses me softly on the lips.
I’ve never looked at it from this angle, and I hadn’t heard the saying before, but I can’t argue with it. I’m all over him, but I wouldn’t call it love yet, and that’s why I answer his questions about what I feel so evasively. I don’t want to jump right in and call it a relationship without feeling completely sure or if I think I might not feel the same way he feels. Ugh, these things are so complicated!
“What do you want to eat? I know a good Chinese place that delivers,” Linden suggests.
“Fried noodles with chicken,” I say.
“That was a fast decision.” He smiles and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Let me order while you pick a movie, okay?”
I nod at him, and he hands me two remotes after switching on the TV and opening the menu. I scroll through the options until I see the title of a movie I’ve seen before, but like a lot—50 First Dates.
“I’ve seen that a dozen times.” Linden smirks.
“Me too, but it’s cute and I like the actors,” I argue.
“Adam Sandler is really good in that,” he agrees.
“And Drew Barrymore as well.”
“All right, let’s watch it again, and then maybe a different one afterwards?”
“Sounds great.”
As Linden starts the movie, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and then put my head on his shoulder. He caresses my thigh, which tickles a little, but in a good way.
***
Half an hour later, Linden’s phone rings. “Yes?” he says as he takes the call. “Yes. Send him up, please. Thank you.” He looks at me. “Our dinner is here. Could you press pause while I take it?”
“Sure.” I stop the movie, and he leaves the couch.
Five minutes later, he’s back with the food and places it on the coffee table. “I’ll go get some forks.”
I check the bag. “They didn’t forget the chopsticks.”
“I can’t eat with those,” he admits.
“Oh. Okay. I don’t need a fork, because I can.” I grin.
“Impressive.” He leaves again, but returns after
a mere half minute. Then he sits down next to me and hands me my food and my chopsticks. I play the movie again, and we dig into our delicious food.
***
When the movie is over, I cry like a baby. Even though I’ve seen it a few times before, I cry every time.
“Why are you crying now?” Linden asks.
“Because it’s a beautiful ending,” I sniffle.
He takes me into his arms and kisses the crown of my head. “I bet you cry even more when the ending is sad.”
“Actually, most of the time, I cry more over a happy ending than a sad one.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
“Let’s watch a sad movie, and you’ll see.”
“Have you seen Hachiko?” Linden asks. “That story about the dog who keeps waiting for his owner by the train station, but the owner is dead?”
“Yeah, I know the movie.”
“Do you want to watch it again, or do you have another idea?”
“Let’s watch it,” I decide.
Linden scrolls through the list of film options, starts the movie, and lies back. The couch is wide enough that I can lie next to him, with my head in his lap. As soon as the young boy in the movie begins to tell his story, or that of his grandfather, the tears start to well in my eyes, but I hide them from Linden.
A thunderclap outside startles me, and he soothingly strokes my hair. Then a heavy rain sets in. “Could you turn down the volume? I’d like to listen to the rain,” I say softly.
He pauses the movie. I close my eyes and listen to the drumming raindrops against the windows. I’ve always found it singularly soothing to listen to the rain fall.
***
When the movie’s over, Linden studies my face. “You’re right. You really do cry more at a happy ending than a sad one.”
I smile at him and wipe the tears from my cheeks. They’re almost dry.
Chapter 12
We visit the Statue of Liberty, Linden shows me Central Park, and we have lunch in a cute and tiny restaurant. Once, we have to run away from a mob of screaming fans, and once from a bunch of journalists behaving like vultures. Tomorrow I have to fly back to Miami, and I’m already missing Linden. I don’t want to leave, because that means I won’t see him for several weeks. We already agreed we’ll call or Skype every day, but that can’t replace the intimacy, the cuddles and kisses. Now we’re taking shelter beneath a roof in Central Park, because the scattered rain got heavy again.
Linden holds me close to him. “I’m going to miss you so badly,” he murmurs.
I look up at him. “I’ll miss you, too.” Then I grab his hand, which is at my back. I twirl and pull him out into the pouring rain.
“Are you crazy?” he yells. “We’re going to catch a cold!” The chilly raindrops whip across our faces.
“A little crazy, yes.” I grin. “I just want to dance in the rain with you.”
“You’re going to get in a hot bath with me when we get home,” he laughs, holding one of my hands and putting his free one around my waist.
“Ooh, yeah! I want that, too,” I call out cheerfully, moving with him through the heavy shower. It is really cold, but I love being out in the rain. I love listening to it whip against the windows. Rain relaxes me. Now we twirl together, which makes me laugh out loud. At some point I start to shiver and snuggle closer to Linden.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
“A little bit,” I admit, my teeth already chattering.
We walk to the park’s closest exit together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. There are a few taxis waiting close by. Linden opens the back door of the last in the line. I get in and scoot over, and he follows. Then he tells the driver the address of the skyscraper he lives in. The taxi starts rolling.
We hold hands in the backseat. I’m silent, because I don’t want the taxi driver to listen to our conversation, and I guess Linden is quiet for the same reason. We seem to understand each other without words anyway, because Linden knows that I want to be cuddled when I look at him.
I enjoy being alone with him. His friends are nice enough, but also a little exhausting. That applies the most to Azer. Mike, Gavin, and Alexis are more quiet types, but every so often they suddenly think they need to turn the entire penthouse into a dance club. Last night I was woken up suddenly when they blasted Iron Maiden at full volume. I shake my head at the memory, and then the car stops.
The driver tells Linden the fare, and he hands him a few bills. We get out and rush into the building. We’re drenched to the bone, so I’m looking forward to the promised bath.
Linden steps behind me and maneuvers me into the elevator, turning the key and pressing the penthouse button. I think ahead to summer break, when I’ll see him again, in Austin, when we can spend a few days together in my hometown. Linden holds me close and whispers into my ear, “I haven’t had a day as wonderful as this in a long time.”
“Neither have I.” I lean my head back against his shoulder as he kisses that sensitive spot right behind my ear.
“And I can hardly wait to get in the tub with you,” he murmurs.
“Neither can I,” I whisper with a smile.
The elevator stops, and we get out, walking through the marble-floored entrance hall, when someone clears their throat. Linden freezes. “Pierce,” he says hollowly.
“Hello, Linden,” a man in a brown suit greets him. He looks important.
“Thalia, this is our manager, Pierce Cunningham,” Linden says, sounding formal. “Pierce, this is Thalia.”
“Good evening.” Pierce nods in my direction, before focusing on Linden again. “Can we talk alone for a moment?”
“I need to take a quick shower first,” Linden replies. “As you can see, we’re drenched.” He’s holding my hand in a grip that is almost painful.
“All right. I’ll wait here,” Pierce says.
We walk into Linden’s suite. “I wonder what he wants from me,” Linden mumbles after he’s closed the door behind us.
“Doesn’t he usually come by unannounced?” I ask.
“Rarely. If there’s anything urgent to talk about, yes, but then he usually wants to have us all together, not one-on-one,” Linden explains.
“I hope it isn’t anything bad then.”
“I have no idea,” he says with a shrug. In the bathroom, he immediately starts the water to run a bath.
“Didn’t you say you’d take a quick shower?” I ask, puzzled.
“I will, but you’re going to take that hot bath. Relax. And after he’s gone, we’re going to get cozy on the couch.” Linden winks at me.
“Okay.” I grin and take off the clothes sticking to my wet skin. I don’t like the scent of wet fabric on my skin, but I was the one who wanted to dance in the rain. I hope my things will be dry by tomorrow evening, so the rest of my clothes don’t take on the smell in my suitcase.
I sit down in the tub, which is already half full, because the water is pouring in from several jets. Linden has slipped into the shower. I lean back, close my eyes, and think about our day. It was really great, and I’d give a lot for every day to be like this, but after tomorrow, I’ll have to pass almost six weeks without him. With a sigh, I place a washcloth over my face and try to relax.
I couldn’t say how much time has passed when I hear the shower door open.
“Are you relaxing?” I hear Linden ask.
“Yes. The hot water is great,” I reply, pulling the cloth from my face and dipping it back into the water.
“I’d much rather lie in there with you, instead of talking to Pierce.”
“You’ll probably be done in no time, and then you can join me.” I smile.
Linden towels himself dry, wraps the towel around his hips, and disappears into the bedroom, returning in sweatpants a minute later. Nothing but sweatpants. “Don’t run away, I’ll be back in thirty minutes, max.” He kisses my forehead.
“I rarely spend that much time in the tub, but I’ll be waiting for you in here.” I smi
rk and kiss him on the lips.
“See you in a bit, babe.”
“See you.”
Linden closes the door behind him, and I close my eyes.
***
Even forty-five minutes later, Linden hasn’t returned. There’s a digital clock next to the mirror, so I can see how much time has elapsed. I finally get out of the tub and towel myself dry. I wrap my hair in a small towel and walk into the bedroom, where I put on panties and a nightgown. I slip into bed, grab my phone, and call Cami.
“How’s New York?” she asks immediately.
“Big,” I reply. “How are you?”
“Good. Delsin and Avery are firing up the barbecue, Dale and I are preparing a salad, and we all miss you. How are you guys doing?”
“I’m doing great. Linden showed me the city today, and it was just an amazingly beautiful day. We danced in the rain, and then we were going to cuddle in bed afterwards, but his manager showed up and has been keeping him from me for almost an hour now. Linden said he would be back within half an hour.”
“Oh. That’s stupid. Doesn’t the guy know you’ll be gone tomorrow evening? He could have come by a day later.”
“Linden was puzzled that he wanted to speak to him ‘in private.’ He said that normally he talks to all of them together.”
“Maybe it’s about all those stories going around about you and Linden,” Cami muses.
“Maybe, but that concerns all of them, really … and me, too. I wonder what they’re talking about.”
“There are only two ways to find out,” she says.
“What’s that?” I ask, feeling slow on the uptake.
“Either you sneak out and listen in on them, or you wait until he comes back and tells you everything.”
“He rarely talks about his manager, let alone what they discuss,” I counter.
“Then I guess you’ll have to spy on them.”
“No, I won’t do that. Imagine if they caught me at it. What would I say?”
“Just say you wanted to check on him because he was gone for so long.”
“No, I don’t want to do that. I’ll just wait here for him.”
“Then you do that, Thally.”
“Caramel, are you coming?” Delsin calls in the background. “Food is all done.”
Linden: Rocking Pleasure: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 3) Page 20
