He raises one dark eyebrow. “And go where?”
My knee-jerk reaction is to take him home and fuck the living hell out of what might be the very firstreal manI’ve ever met. But that’s not happening.
Keep your legs closed, Banner.
“Have you ever been to Times Square?”
He shakes his head. “No. Never been to New York before today.”
I smile as I come up with the perfect way to keep myself out of bed with Logan Brantley.
“Then we better make it memorable.”
Chapter 9
Banner
Isn’t it strange how when you live in a touristy place, you don’t do any of the touristy things until someone comes to visit from out of town? I’ve always been a New Yorker, so unless there’s some specific reason to be there, I avoid Times Square like the plague.
But not tonight.
Tonight I need to be farther away from my apartment than this tapas bar, and I need to get whatever is between Logan and me under control before I give in to the urge to climb him.Bad Banner.
He might think this is a dumb idea, but I can’t think of a less likely place for me to jump this incredibly sexy man’s bones than a giant arcade.
I flag down a cab, and Logan opens the yellow door. I give directions to the cabbie as I slide in.
When Logan climbs inside next to me, the back of the taxi shrinks. Not only is Logan Brantley bigger than most guys I’ve shared the back of a cab with, there’s something else. It goes beyond size topresence. Logan Brantley has it in spades, and I’m squeezing my thighs together in an effort to kill the ache that’s building there.
I have to start talking, or God knows what I’ll let myself do.
“This might seem unorthodox and probably not what you were expecting, but instead of trying to get into a fancy steak house and waiting hours for a table where you could actually get man food, I made an executive decision to do something completely different.”
He’s watching me as I ramble, and that intense blue gaze isn’t helping me sound coherent.
“What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a huge sports bar arcade in Times Square, and I thought it would be fun.”
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can handle that.” He pauses for a beat. “You don’t seem like the sports bar or arcade type, though.”
It’s a fair observation, especially since he’s right.
“I’ve been to plenty of sports bars,” I tell him. “I am a New Yorker, after all, so I’ve got the Mets, Yankees, Giants, Knicks, and Rangers to cheer on.”
“You like to watch sports?” His tone is more than a little surprised.
It’s the moment of truth. Do I lie and pretend I’m some kind of real sports fan? Or do I just admit that I only go with friends when we’re drinking and I ignore the game? I’ve never lied to impress a guy before, and I’m not going to start now.
“Unless someone gets a box at a game, I don’t actually watch any sport. I go for the atmosphere.”
“Fair enough. I don’t usually have time, but I’ll try to catch a game on TV once in a while.”
As expected, the cabbie gets stuck in traffic when heading down Seventh Avenue, but Logan keeps the conversation going.
“What about an arcade? I can’t exactly picture you playing video games.”
I respond with a shake of my head before elaborating. “Never in my life. But I can play a decent game of pool, and a marginally passable game of foosball.”