She was an expert at avoiding what she didn’t want to address. “When that man shook your hand, he called you son. Are you his son or was that him trying to relate to you?”
“I’m his son. You don’t like to answer questions, do you?”
“I get bored with them. I’m asked questions all day long. How are you feeling? Will you venture outside today? Did you take your pills?” She turned to him. “See, boring. I get so sick of talking about myself all the time. Do you ever get bored of yourself?”
This was easy for him to answer. “All the time.”
“Then you do understand.”
He wanted to give her the smile he believed she wanted from him, but he was still stuck on the questions she’s often asked. In particular, he was stuck on the pills question. “Did you take your pills today?”
Nodding, she patted him on the back. “Don’t worry about me, Hazel. All is good. That’s why I’m here.”
Everything was a side effect of the previous topic with her. One thing led to another. “Why are you here exactly? I mean, why were you at the party if you didn’t know my parents?”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and put her hands on her hips. “Like I said, impossible.”
Halting in front of her, he narrowed his eyes at the incredulousness of her comments. “Is this a reference to my eye color from earlier or to me now?”
“Aren’t you one in the same?” Walking forward, she turned around to Taylor who was still standing where she left him. “You coming?”
He conceded and caught up to her once again. “Do you even know where you’re going?” He walked steadily next to her. His long strides could easily out pace her shorter ones if he wanted. He just didn’t want to. He couldn’t fathom why, yet again.
“Do you want ice cream?”
She hit him with one surprise after another, and he replied, “It’s freezing out here. How about a coffee?”
“I don’t like coffee.”
“Wow, a New Yorker who doesn’t like coffee.” Taking her by the arm, he stopped her. “Are you going to tell me anything about yourself?”
“I just told you I don’t like coffee. That’s something.”
He sighed. “I’m serious, Jude.”
His emotional sigh was wearing on her and she gave him the most honest answer she could. “Not if I can get away with it.”
He looked into her blue eyes. Under a bright fluorescent light of a convenience store, he could see they were tinged in green with champagne centers. They were the most unique eyes he had ever seen. She was the most unique woman he had ever met. Now he felt bad for making her unhappy, so he broke his gaze away. “Fine. I’ll limit my questions.” And just to see her smile again, he said, “Ice cream it is.”
She jumped for joy. “I know a great place a few blocks from here.”
“Should we catch a cab?”
“No, I love the snow. It’s magical.”
Looking down the street and then back to her, he started wondering when he’d stopped seeing magic in the world. He could probably guess, but he didn’t want to think about that time.
A half hour later, his hands were frozen but he still found himself eating pistachio ice cream with Jude for dinner. He bought the treats and joined her at a booth where she was contentedly licking her rocky road. As soon as he sat down, she asked, “I think you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their favorite ice cream flavor.”
Taylor watched as her tongue came out and she licked the ice cream in absolute bliss. When their eyes connected, she grinned, catching him watching her. Having trouble hiding his own smile, he asked, “What does pistachio say about me?”
She paused in thought, then offered, “Maybe not in all cases.”
Tilting his head, he said, “You have an opinion. You just don’t want to share it with me. Go on. Don’t hold back. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
Shaking her head, she grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth. “No, it’s okay.”
He took one bite of his treat, and in all earnestness said, “I want to know what you think about me. I’m curious.”
All the lightheartedness that existed between them disappeared and her voice turned somber. “I don’t think you’re pistachio at all. That’s just what everyone else wants you to be.”
“That bad, huh?”
Brightening, her expression showed her joy with a wide smile and that seemingly unattainable possibility was back in the depths of her pupils. “Have faith. It’s not too late.”
“Let’s hope not.” He looked down at his ice cream and completely lost his appetite for pistachio. Getting up, he threw it away and returned to the table.
Jude looked at her own ice cream. Rocky road. It had always been her favorite and still was until that moment. Suddenly she lost all favor for the flavor and threw hers away too. “What now?”
He laughed. “You’re the one with all the crazy ideas.”
“They’re not crazy,” she said defensively, and walked out into the dark of the winter’s evening, the bell above the door chiming loudly behind her.
Taylor could tell he’d hit a nerve and wasn’t sure if he should be relieved to find one thing that actually affected her or if he should feel bad. He went with the latter. “Hey, Jude. Wait up. I didn’t mean that.”
Shrugging, she looked up at him. He was handsome. Jude had noticed at the party. It would be hard not to, but now… with the faint light from the store surrounding him and snow falling over his head, he was stunning. Reaching up, she touched his cheeks with her fuzzy green-gloved hands. His breath appeared to stop like hers and she gravitated closer, the tips of her shoes on the tip of his. “Hazel?”
“Yes?” he replied as if that was his name now.
“Will you kiss me?”
Taylor had wanted to do that since he’d met her, but hadn’t realized it until that moment. He took her cheeks between his leather-clad hands and leaned down without hesitation and kissed the girl in the chartreuse sundress. He kissed her until the snow flurried, their world revolving around them. He kissed her until her lips parted and a secret was shared. A secret that would always only be theirs to share. A kiss that said I like you… and maybe more. A kiss that spoke through emotions instead of words. A kiss that bonded them to this moment and to each other.
When Taylor pulled back, ever so slowly, he opened his eyes to find hers still closed, her red lips still parted, and her hands still on him. So he kissed her again.
And again.
Then he kissed her hands after taking them in his. “Jude?”
“Yes?” she asked in return, leaving her hands right where they were.
“Do you want to come back to my place?”
A playful smile crossed her lips. He had trouble looking away from them, wanting to kiss her again, longer this time. “Are you asking me because you want to sleep with me?”
“I’m asking you because I’m cold, but I wouldn’t be opposed to sleeping with you.”
Her smiled turned serene, warming him. “Okay.”
Taylor didn’t know what to expect from her, feeling very much like he was just along for the ride. Her answer was so easygoing and accepting that he found himself surprised by her again, but feeling lucky to have this quirky, pretty girl going home with him. Keeping hold of her hand, they caught a cab and headed across town.
Jude had been in plenty of nice buildings in Manhattan, but this one was nice, and still felt accessible, much like him. She liked that. The doorman was in a simple sweater and pants. No epaulettes on the shoulders of a brightly colored suit or check-in desk with a gatekeeper. This guy said hello to both of them and held the door. That was all and she was in.
Taylor lived on the fourteenth floor. As they walked down the hall, she said, “I like this building.”
“Me too.”
He held the door open and followed her inside. The apartment was modern, which didn’t surprise her. He was an architect, after all. Clean lines. Simple color scheme of varying warm shades of brown. In contrast, paintings hung on the walls and offered large splashes of color, each room a different theme. Royal blue and turquoise in the living room. Yellow in the kitchen. She peeked back at him and caught his eyes on her. “I’m hoping red is in the bedroom.”