Lexington and 42nd (The Off Field Series #1) by Kim Carmody

Author:Kim Carmody [Carmody, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01C6FH7RA
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2016-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Ohmygod this fondant is to die for.” I closed my eyes, savoring the rich warm chocolate as it oozed down my throat.

Nick kinked an eyebrow at me. “You sure you don’t need a moment alone over there?”

I laughed. “Potentially. If it means I don’t have to share my dessert with you.”

Nick held his hands up. “Hey, I’ve never been one to come between a woman and her chocolate.”

I spooned a mouthful of the fondant and offered it to him. “Tempting but no, it would be a sin for you not to try this. I’d never forgive myself.”

So far we’d had a great evening. It really was too easy to be around Nick. We had this comradery that made me feel like I’d known him for years. Couple that with the fact that we were out to dinner at New York’s latest it restaurant and I was feeling better than I had all week.

Not only had Julia single-handedly helped me make it through the last seven days without falling apart, she’d even forced me to take her reservation at Line, even though it took her a full six weeks to get it in the first place. I was even wearing a little black dress—she was taking phase two of getting over the quarterback very seriously.

The restaurant was packed, and even though it was still relatively early, the bar was buzzing. The space was all matte blacks and shiny metallics, with dim lighting and a floor to ceiling hanging garden built into the wall of the bar. We were seated at a row of small tables for two that lined the opposite wall, complete with beautiful bronze-tinted, mirrored table tops that had been polished to perfection.

Nick groaned, his head dropping to the table. “Ohmygod you’re right, I would almost give up Super Bowl tickets for that.”

I grinned. “Yup, if I wasn’t so full already, we’d definitely be getting another one of these.”

“Give me an hour and I think I could handle it.” I watched as he took a swig of wine. “Speaking of the Super Bowl, how’s your job going? You found your feet yet?”

I paused, unsure of how to respond. I thought I’d well and truly found my feet until a certain someone tripped me up a week ago. I’d managed to bury myself in work for the week but, truth be told, Will was rarely far from my thoughts—it was unavoidable really. His name came up in every meeting I went to, and almost hourly emails seemed to cross my desk with Jensen in the subject line.

In some ways it had gotten easier as the week went by, as I realized just how ludicrous the idea of having a relationship with Will really was now that the possibility of it happening wasn’t clouding my judgement. But the other side of me, the side that didn’t acknowledge the challenges Will’s position in the club would have brought us, still ached for him. During the day, at work or out with

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