‘Well you don’t look like a Christmas gift in any old shirt and pants!’ Mrs Ramirez points out.
Anders nods in agreement.
A small smile lifts the corners of my mouth.
‘We will leave you two alone…’ Anders says, giving me a little wave with his bony hand.
Mrs Ramirez continues to stare at us, beaming, until Anders has to physically drag her out of the room.
My heart jolts as Seth gives me a daft smile. My body, which (apart from a couple of Atonement re-watches) has been fairly dormant in Manchester, lights right back up again.
Man alive.
I sit down on one of Anders’ stiff velvet armchairs. Seth sits opposite me on the mauve sofa.
Then I notice that he’s holding a small stack of letters, tied with a gold ribbon.
I frown. Weird…
‘Hey,’ Seth says. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘Hello…’ I reply, noticing that he looks a lot more groomed than when I first met him. His usually messy long hair has a sharper cut now. His shoulders are broader, like he’s been working out. His clothes are ironed. I guess that’s what happens when you start to get famous. ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.
‘Birdie invited me.’
I frown. ‘What? How? What are you talking about?’
Seth picks up the stack of letters and waves them at me.
‘What?’
He gives a small single shoulder shrug. ‘We were… kind of pen pals for a while.’
My jaw drops open. Birdie and her letters! What has she been playing at! How has she…? Why has she…?
I eagerly reach my hand out for the letters. Seth places the stack into my hand, his fingers briefly touching mine, giving me a little electric shock.
I pull a letter out of one of the envelopes. And sure enough, there is Birdie’s loopy handwriting in a missive dated from six months ago.
I goggle at the letters, emotion bubbling up in my chest.
Seth smiles at me. ‘She wrote to me because she thought I should be made aware that you weren’t engaged. That it was a fib you made up on the plane and that you didn’t tell me because I hated liars.’
I nod, in complete disbelief that Birdie wrote to Seth and didn’t even tell me! Just like her to be so obnoxious. And… amazing. Even now she’s managing to surprise me!
‘You know that’s why I cooled off after our night together?’ Seth says, sitting forward on the settee.
I give him a quizzical look.
‘I knew after we… um…’ he trails off.
‘Did it.’
‘Yeah, it. I knew that I was falling for you. I think I knew earlier than that, if I’m being honest. I think I knew that rainy day in the Upper West Side. The day you lost your letter and followed me to the theatre.’
I knew I was falling for you too, I think.
That all seems so long ago now. But still, it makes my heart sing to hear him say it.
‘I thought you were engaged!’ Seth goes on. ‘I didn’t want to get in any deeper. There I was feeling things about you I never thought I’d feel in my whole life. And you were about to leave to marry Colin Collins.’ He shrugs. ‘It was too much.’
I bury my head in my hands, my face turning red. ‘I thought you were trying to get rid of me because I was weird in bed.’
‘Yep.’ Seth laughs and points at the stack of letters in my lap. ‘Birdie told me that too. And I’d like to take this opportunity to officially inform you that my penis was not bruised. It was, in fact, very happy after our encounter.’
‘I’m pleased about that.’
‘Me too.’
We smile at each other.
‘Wait…’ I ask. ‘How did you know I’d be here? Even Birdie didn’t know I was coming back to New York.’
Seth laughs. ‘Actually, she did.’
‘Huh?’
He takes out the letter at the bottom of the pile, pointing at a paragraph on the second page.
I quickly wipe away the tears I can feel running down my face as I read.
Olive doesn’t know it yet, but she fell in love with New York. She’ll be back, I know it. I have asked her friend Anders to get in touch with you when that happens. And then, if you are single, I want you to take her on an official date. Tell her that when you ask, she has to say yes or else I will haunt her. Not in a sweet gentle ghostly presence way. But in a scary gross way: blood and fangs and throwing things across the room. All that. It will be horrendous.
I burst into noisy, tearful laughter. ‘Oh Birdie!’
‘She seemed like she was one of a kind,’ Seth says gently.
‘She was,’ I say with a heavy heart. ‘She really, really was.’
Seth stands up and holds his hand out towards me. I stand up and take it. ‘I am single,’ he murmurs, his face close to mine, his eyes flicking down to my lips. ‘And Birdie was right. You did come back. And so… Olive Maudine Brewster, will you go on an official date with me?’
I laugh some more and give a exaggerated shrug. ‘Well I don’t want to get haunted. So I guess my answer is—’
And then we are kissing. And my whole body, my whole heart is lit up. Seth pulls me closer, his hands weaving through my hair, I push him down on to the sofa and climb onto him like a rabid animal. We kiss breathlessly and it feels insane and amazing and right and…
‘Ahem!’
‘Olive! No! Not on the antique sofa!’
Seth and I reluctantly pull apart at the sound of Anders and Mrs Ramirez. They’re standing at the entrance to the living room, bundled back up in their coats and scarves.
I laugh, pulling my clothes into some semblance of respectability. Seth does the same, his cheeks a little pink.
‘There’s a carol singing service in Gramercy Park,’ Mrs Ramirez tells us happily. ‘Would you like to come with us?’
‘They’re opening the park up to the public for one night only,’ Anders adds. He raises a pale eyebrow, hip cocked. ‘Although I suppose that’s not quite as exciting to you with your stolen key.’
‘You didn’t return it?” Mrs Ramirez gasps.
I give her an innocent look as I grab my bumbag and coat from the hat stand. Seth wraps his scarf around his neck and takes my hand as the four of us step out into the cold Manhattan air.
As we walk down the city street to cries of ‘Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah!’ from red-cheeked passersby, I peek up at the twinkling festive lights surrounding me, and then across at Seth who runs his thumb suggestively around the palm of my hand, and Anders and Mrs Ramirez who are arguing passionately about what the best holiday song is.
This is what I was afraid of?
We enter a snow-covered Gramercy Park, full of happy singers and locals handing out glasses of champagne.
‘Thank you for saving my life, Birdie,’ I whisper under my breath.
And I know that while my best friend might be gone from the world, she will always, always be chilling out right here in my heart. In every moment I live – I truly, outrageously, honestly and bravely live – Birdie Lively will be leading the way.
Because that is Big Sexy Love.
@ElissaJohnson
So #excited to be carolling in Gramercy Park today! Not ideal that they’ve opened up the park to the public, but all in the #festivespirit, I suppose! Who else will be there?
THE END
DEAR READER
Thank you for reading BIG SEXY LOVE. Did you like it? DID YOU? I hope so. It’s a bit bonkers, right? I loved writing it so much.
Reader reviews are massively helpful to an author. Especially authors like me who don’t have the budget of a big publisher behind them. These reviews help to bring attention (and sales, of course!) to my books, but also help other readers to figure out whether they might enjoy what I write!
If you enjoyed reading BIG SEXY LOVE, I would be so grateful if you could spend a few minutes leaving a review. Click here to do it! Even a really short one would be amazing. I read all of the
m. I probably shouldn’t but I have zero chill about these things.
Thanks a million and until we meet again,
Kirsty x
http://www.kirstygreenwood.com
YOU CAN READ MORE KIRSTY GREENWOOD BOOKS!
Yours Truly
The Vintage Guide to Love and Romance
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my fantastic (and super patient) agent Hannah Ferguson, and the talented team at Hardman & Swainson for everything you do.
Thank you to Caroline Hogg, amazing friend and kickass editor, who always helps to make my books SO much better than they would be without her. I shudder to think what my novels would be like without you.
Thank you to Jade Craddock for the rescue! And for such a thorough copyedit. I loved working with you!
Thank you so much to Angie Jordan for the proofing!
Thank you to my darling writing bestie Cesca Major. This book literally wouldn’t be here without you, for so many reasons. I am eternally grateful and I like you a lot.
Thank you to my Notting Hill Girl Gang: Celia Ferrari, Elizabeth Keach and my little pumpkin Ophelia. The times I spent with you guys have been some of my favourites ever and your support means the world! Thanks also to Fabien and Louis for making my time in London even more enjoyable!
Thank you to the Book Camp gang and the brilliant Basia Martin who looked after us so perfectly. I had the most fun writing (and talking about writing, cuddling Barnaby, making music videos, drinking bubbles and perving over A and his tractor) with you all. Any writers reading this? You GOTS to go to Bookcamp!
Thank you to my writing friends: all of them supremely talented and supportive. Isabelle Broom, Cressida McLaughlin, Holly Martin, Poppy Dolan, Rosie Blake, Jennifer Joyce, Katie Marsh, Lynsey James and Keris Stainton.
Thank you to Victoria Stone for your amazing cheerleading and belief in me. I hope this book makes you like me as much as you like Mick Dundee.
Thank you to the amazingly supportive bloggers who read and review my books and make me feel like I’m doing something right. Particularly the lovely Leah Graham, Amanda Moran, Jennie Shaw, Kevin Loh, Natalie McCormack Eve Chong and Catriona Merryweather.
Thank you to my beloved family: Edd, Mum, Dad, Lynette, Nic, Tony, Mary, William and C-Dawg. I love you all so, so much and hope to make you as proud as you make me.
Finally, thank you to my readers! I am so grateful to have you. And I really, really, really hope this book brings you joy.
About the Author
Kirsty Greenwood is an author of fast-paced, fearless and funny romantic comedies. She is also the founder and editor in chief of Novelicious.com.
She lives between Manchester and London, never without her laptop and a head full of made-up people.
To sign up for new release updates, monthly giveaways and more from Kirsty, add your name to her newsletter here.
www.kirstygreenwood.com
Copyright © 2017 by Kirsty Greenwood
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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