“Didn’t know I had a curfew,” I say. Liquid courage burns in my veins, along with the irritation of last week. Wanting someone who wants you back sometimes is the definition of frustrating. He blows out a breath. “You don’t.” “And yet you’re awake,” I say. “Have you been waiting for me?” He doesn’t answer right away, and a thrill races through me. He has. He really, really has. “Wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he says. “I’ve lived in New York my whole life. Same as you.” He frowns. “Then you know that things can turn wrong on a dime.” “You could have texted me,” I say. “If you were
...more
