The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.
“Do you mind?” a very tired-looking father asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Behind him was a rowdy group of at least ten children wearing birthday hats. One child wore a large pin with the number 8.
The father didn’t wait for Lily’s and Nick’s reply before he and the children were pushing onto the elevator as well. Lily and Nick crowded into one corner, swiftly surrounded by eager eight-year-olds whose birthday cake intake had them soaring on sugar highs.
Lily was standing directly in front of Nick with very little space between them. Her arm brushed against his side and she felt the warmth radiating through his shirt. She inhaled his woodsy cologne. God, he smelled good. She wanted to bottle his scent.
Get it together! You’re behaving like an unhinged, horny freak!
“I used to read a lot when I was a bookseller,” she said, attempting to continue their conversation, even though they’d been derailed by a birthday party frenzy.
Nick leaned down closer to her, angling his head to hear her over the kids. “Say that again?”
She turned slightly, and his face was right there above her shoulder. This close, she could see just how smooth his skin was, the fullness of his lips. It was sensory overload. Unconsciously, she bit her lip, and she noticed how the action caught Nick’s interest. He lowered his gaze to her mouth and quickly brought his attention back to her eyes. Lily swallowed and tried to make herself focus.
“I read a lot when I worked at a bookstore,” she said, slightly raising her voice. “Now I read maybe two books a year for fun and it takes me forever.”
“You were a bookseller?” There he went with that quick eyebrow furrowing again. Maybe he had a tic?
“Yeah, in New Jersey,” she said. “Dog-Eared Pages. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
Nick slowly shook his head. “I’m still trying to get used to New York, to be honest. I’ve only been here for a few months. I moved in March.”
“Oh, where’d you move from?”
He waved his hand. “All over, really. But I was born in North Carolina.”
“Like Petey Pablo,” she said, because of course the only North Carolina native she could think of was a rapper from the early 2000s, who was popular back when she was in middle school. She wanted to crawl under the upholstery of the elevator floor. But Nick only laughed. She felt his body shake behind her as he chuckled. He had a nice laugh, deep and full of warmth. She wondered how she could get him to laugh like that again.
“Yep,” he said, grinning down at her. “Just like Petey Pablo.”
She shook her head, although she was grinning too. “I should have said Nina Simone.”
“Or Jermaine Dupri.”
“Really? I didn’t know he was from North Carolina.”
Nick nodded. “And without him, we wouldn’t have had Bow Wow.”
“Or Mariah Carey’s The Emancipation of Mimi album, which is one of the best albums of all time.”
“Of all time?” Nick whistled. “That’s high praise.”
“Well, I mean, it’s Mariah Carey.” She gave him a look. “You aren’t going to argue with me about Mariah Carey’s talent, are you?”
Nick held up his hands in surrender, that slight grin still on his face. “No, ma’am. I don’t want any problems.”
Lily laughed. She was doing it! Having a full-blown conversation with Fine as Hell Neighbor—wait, no, his name was Nick. And not only were they simply conversing, the conversation was flowing. She barely recognized herself.
“It’s my birthday, Octavius!” one little boy in the center of the birthday party group shouted. “I get to play on the PS5 first!”
“I’m still the oldest of the group, Waverly! Rules are rules!”
In a split second, a fight broke out among the kids. The birthday boy’s dad only sighed, weary with exhaustion. Nick’s arm shot out in front of Lily, protecting her from being hit by a scrawny, stray elbow. He gently but securely turned her away, shielding her with his body. She was enveloped by him and the scent of his heavenly cologne. It took all of her effort not to swoon. She could die right there, knowing that her last moments on earth were spent in Nick’s blissful embrace. Thank the Lord for angry eight-year-olds and their temper tantrums.
The elevator finally reached the fourteenth floor and Nick shouted, “Excuse us!” creating a temporary pause in the mayhem. Wordlessly, he took Lily’s hand and safely led her into the hallway. The elevator doors closed behind them, eliminating the noise of the arguing children. Lily glanced down in surprised pleasure at their intertwined fingers. Nick smiled at her, somewhat bashfully, and dropped her hand. She immediately missed his touch. It was startling how natural it felt to hold hands with him.