Brooklyn Heat (16 page)

Walter pulled Alyssa’s chair out, and she slid into it. “Thank you,”

she said, and placed her napkin on her lap. She picked up the menu and scanned it.

“This is one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York,” Jay tried.

“It looks lovely,” she said.

Jay frowned. Lovely? Koi wasn’t lovely. Yes, it was lovely inside, but you didn’t go there because it was lovely. You went there so you could say you went to Koi, you went there because the food was kickass, you went there to see and be seen, even though you were behind a privacy screen.

“Should we start with a caviar appetizer?” Jay asked casually. Alyssa looked at him blankly, then pulled her notebook out of her bag and started to write something down. “What did you just write?” he demanded.

“I wrote that you wanted to order a caviar appetizer.”

“Why is that relevant?”

“All the women who are swooning over you want to know this stuff.”

“There are women swooning over me?”

“Yes,” she said.

He grinned. Obviously he knew there were women swooning over him. And he liked the idea that she was going to write that he ordered caviar. It made him seem refined.

When the waiter returned, Jay ordered sushi for them both. Alyssa scribbled away in her notebook. “Are you writing that I ordered for you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you writing what kind of sushi I ordered?”

“Yes.”

Finally, she set the notebook down and took a sip of her water.

“So how are you liking Brooklyn so far?” Jay asked politely.

“I’ve only been here for a few hours,” she said. “That’s hardly enough time to make up my mind.” She took another sip of water, and her tongue snaked out and licked a stray drop of water off her bottom lip. Jay’s eyes flicked back down to her sweater, which somehow seemed even lower cut than it had been in the car. She had nice full, breasts. Jay imagined what they’d look like out of that black bra.

The waiter set down their caviar, and Jay thanked him. Then he scooped some up with a cracker, popped it into his mouth, and sat back to enjoy the show. The show being, of course, that Alyssa had probably never had caviar. Probably she was going to refuse to try it, or even better, spit it out.

“Good,” Jay said, after he swallowed.

Alyssa reached over, scooped up some caviar, and took a bite. “Not bad,” she said, chewing and swallowing. Jay tried not to feel disappointed.

They made conversation about the weather, about New York City, about her job. When the sushi came, she was just as adventurous, and slammed down everything from raw tuna to eel.

When the bill came, Jay paid for it with his black American Express.

He noticed Alyssa didn’t pull her notebook out to make a note of that, which relieved him. Black Cards were pedestrian nowadays, with everyone from Jessica Simpson to Pete Rose to those Kardashian girls running around with them.

“Thanks for dinner,” Alyssa said as they walked outside. “I’m sure you have somewhere to be, so don’t worry about taking me back to Brooklyn.”

“We’re done?”

“What?”

“Well, I didn’t know the date was over.” And suddenly, he really didn’t want it to be.

“This isn’t a date.”

“I didn’t mean a date like that.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her watch, and Jay could see her weighing the options in her mind. Getting more dirt vs. going back to the hotel and relaxing. Finally, she shrugged. “What else did you have in mind?”

“I’m going to take you,” Jay said, “to my favorite place in the city.”

~Chapter Three~

Alyssa gazed out the window of Jay’s car as he drove through the streets of New York. The windows were tinted, which was good. Otherwise she’d feel self-conscious about all the staring she was doing. It was just so hard not to! Everyone in New York just looked…well, like someone you’d want to stare at. The people were diverse, from the woman in the long fur coat with the tiny little dog, to the group of people on the corner banging on drums and hoping people would drop change into the hat in front of them. It was very overwhelming, and not like Boston at all.

When she really thought about it, Jay was kind of right about Boston.

It
was
a little bit pseudo-intellectual and kind of stuffy and crunchy. And even though it was a big city, it lacked the energy of New York.

She shifted in her seat, then reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water and took a long sip. That caviar had been disgusting, and she’d choked it down only because she hadn’t wanted to give Jay the satisfaction of seeing that she didn’t like it. That’s what he’d been hoping, she could tell.

The car stopped, and Alyssa looked around. They were on a busy corner, with a sub shop across the street, and a bunch of nondescript little shops lining the sidewalk.

“Where are we?” She looked around for a club, or some kind of flashy monument or something where he’d take her to the top and show her a view of the city in an effort to dazzle her.

“I told you, we’re at my favorite place in New York.” He reached over and into the glove compartment, and as he did, his arm brushed against the side of her breast. She felt how hard his arms were, how strong, and for a second, she imagined what it would be like for him to take her in his arms and hold her close.

Jay rummaged around in the glove compartment for a few seconds, and then pulled out a hat and sunglasses.

“What are those?” Alyssa asked.

“My disguise.”

“Your
disguise?”

“Yeah,” he said. He pulled the hat, a short knit green cap, down over his brown hair, and slid the glasses on. “Do I look like me?”

“Yes,” she said.

He nodded. “You’re right, it hardly ever works. I’ll get recognized for sure.” He sounded cheerful.

“Do you like getting recognized?” Alyssa asked.

He thought about it. “Sort of,” he said. “I don’t mind signing autographs and talking to fans. The only thing that sucks is when there’s a big group of people. They all start taking videos with their phones, and they want pictures, and then it wrecks whatever I’m trying to do.”

“So I should brace myself?”

“Well,” he said, and she was pretty sure she saw his eyes slide down to her cleavage. “We’ll see if it gets out of hand.”

She opened the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, and he came around to meet her.

“What is this?” she asked as they walked up to a store. There were carts of books on the sidewalk, with cardboard signs that proclaimed them to be a dollar. It was a nice night, with the sun just starting to dip down, and a nice warm breeze, and so there were lots of people outside, browsing through the racks.

“What does it look like?” Jay asked. “It’s a bookstore.”

“Your favorite place in New York is a bookstore?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why, you don’t like books?”

“I’m a writer,” she said. “I love books.”

“Then you’ll love it here.”

She followed him inside, and saw a sign that said “The Strand, 18

Miles of Books.” She looked around. It was halfway between a warehouse and a bookstore, with floor to ceiling shelves as far as the eye could see, a bank of elevators to take you to another floor, and books, books, and more books.

“Wow,” she said.

“Pretty amazing, huh?”

She nodded. And then she decided to ditch him. She had to, at least for a little while. Books were her favorite things in the world, and she needed to be on her own to really have time to browse. Ever since she’d she’d learned how to read, she’d been in love with books. It was probably why she hadn’t had many friends growing up. While most of the neighborhood kids were out enjoying the summer by swimming in pools and running lemonade stands, she was holed up inside with a book.

“Meet you back here in half an hour?” Jay asked. Alyssa looked at him, and nodded, realizing that however much of a jerk he was, he obviously somehow got it when it came to books. The next thirty minutes were pure heaven, as she loaded up her arms with lots and lots of discounted books.

Romances, thrillers, a young adult novel or two, and even a science fiction she’d heard good things about.

When she met up with Jay at the front of the store, he looked a little wary. “Find anything good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. She nodded at the pile of books in his arms. “You?”

“Yeah.”

They waited in line, and Jay kept glancing over his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said finally, leaning into and whispering right into her ear.

A shiver went through her body as she felt his breath on her skin. “I think we’ve been compromised. Crazy teenagers at six o’clock.”

Alyssa went to look, but Jay grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the register. “Don’t
look,”
he said through gritted teeth.

“Why?” she whispered. “What will happen?”

“They’ll follow me,” he said. “Teenage girls always follow me. They like to find out where I live so they can hang out outside.”

“Isn’t that info available online?”

“Yes,” Jay said. “But they like to stalk. It’s more exciting to them or something.”

They paid for their purchases and walked outside, and as they did, Alyssa turned around. It was like being told not to think about something –

of course you did the exact thing you weren’t supposed to do.

“Uh oh,” she said.

“What?” Jay looked behind him, where the teenage girls were dropping their books down onto a table that contained nothing but copies of Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, and started running for the door. “You looked, didn’t you?”

Alyssa nodded, feeling kind of guilty.

“Come on.” He grabbed her arm and they walked quickly down the street, then ducked into a small space between two building.

Alyssa started to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” he said.

She shut her mouth obediently. But he kept his finger on her lips, and Alyssa felt a frisson of heat rush through her body.

They stayed like that for a moment, not saying anything, Jay’s blue eyes intent on hers. And then, as if he were sensing her desire and had decided he wanted to drive her crazy, he started to make little circles on her lip with his thumb. She closed her eyes to try to get control of her senses, and when she opened them, he was leaning against the wall across from her, his fingers still on her lips, his eyes still locked on hers.

She froze, and his fingers moved down, over her lips, down her neck, and onto her collarbone. One fingertip dipped below the top of her sweater, and slowly and lazily grazed the top of her breasts. She swallowed, hard, her whole body on fire.

She wanted to move toward him, to put her lips on his, to feel him pull her against his body. But the way he was looking at her told her she needed to stay put, that if she moved toward him, he’d stop her. He wanted to tease her, he was
enjoying
teasing her, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But God, she wanted him.

He grinned at her, his fingers still moving lazily around her breasts.

And then, finally, he took a step toward her. His tongue licked his top lip, and Alyssa closed her eyes and waited for the kiss.

She felt his chest against hers, and one of his hands was on the back of her neck, the other still making a drowsy pattern over her cleavage. She could feel his breath on her skin, and his mouth started moving up, closer to her ear. God she wanted to turn her head, she wanted his lips on hers, she needed to kiss him, she needed to –

“They’re gone,” he whispered, and then pulled away from her.

She opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d been slapped. They’re
gone?

What the
hell?
She took a deep breath, and white-hot rage boiled up inside of her. First at him, and then at herself. But, as with so many things that had happened tonight, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Thank God,” she said easily, hoping he didn’t notice the way her voice broke, and that he wasn’t close enough to hear how fast her heart was beating. She forced herself to smile. “We should probably get back to Brooklyn. Last thing we want is another run-in with crazy fans.” She walked out from between the buildings and waited for him to unlock the car.

~Chapter Four~

Jay woke up at six o’clock the next morning to the sound of knocking on his apartment door. Jay had an apartment in Brooklyn, where he stayed during the season. And although not as nice as his downtown Manhattan loft, or the home he had in the Bahamas, it did have a doorman who didn’t let people up unannounced or make a habit of pounding on his door. Those kinds of things didn’t tend to happen at a twelve million dollar penthouse, even if it was Brooklyn.

Which meant it could only be one person. Chad.

“Go away!” Jay yelled. But then he heard the front door opening.

“Hey,” Chad said, walking into his bedroom. “Are you awake?”

“Obviously not,” Jay said, turning to look at his friend. “How did you get in here?”

“You gave me a key, remember? So I could feed the fish when you were in Mexico last year.”

Jay sighed, cursed himself for thinking that installing a full-wall aquarium would be a good idea, and then rolled over. He buried his head in his pillow and wished for Chad to go away.

There was a thunking sound, and Jay opened one eye to see Chad setting a coffee down on the nightstand next to him. Well. At least that was something. He reached out and grabbed it, downing a big gulp, then sat up in bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jay asked. Not that Chad needed a reason. Chad was a notorious early riser, which didn’t make much sense, since he was a bigger partier than Jay. But it didn’t matter what time Chad stumbled home from the clubs at night, he was always awake by six am.

“Came to hang out before practice.” Chad took a sip of his own coffee. “And to talk to you about Alyssa Cotler.” He grinned. “Some number you did on her yesterday.”

At the thought of Alyssa, Jay was suddenly awake. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“What she wrote about you.”

“Chad, it’s six o’clock in the morning, and you’re here, obviously waking me up, so why would I have any idea what she’s written about me?”