Read Online Macarons at Midnight by M.J. O'Shea & Anna Martin - Free Book Online

big, slim-fingered hands. Henry gripped his hand into a fist to keep from doing anything dumb. “These cupcakes are brilliant. I could eat ten of them.”
    “Thanks.” Super cool, Henry. Say something else. Now. “Um, I have the boxes in the fridge. You want to help me load them into the van?”
    “You have a van?” Tristan asked. He looked impressed, by his face. Henry’s awkwardness broke into a smile.
    “Yeah. We have a van. It’s in the alley. Even has a refrigerated section. Top of the line.”
    “Really?”
    Henry chuckled. “Van, yes. Top of the line, no. That was a lie. Come on. Let’s grab the macarons.”
    Henry couldn’t help but notice the look Millie gave him as he escorted Tristan back into the kitchen. Probably because she pinched him really hard when he passed. He tried to glare at her so she’d keep her mouth shut and not torture him for his obvious and rusty flirting. Not likely to work for any length of time. He was surprised she wasn’t already texting Trixie. She probably would, the moment they pulled away. Henry was too happy to be back in Tristan’s company to even care.
     
     
    T RISTAN WASN ’ T quite sure Henry was real. Even in broad daylight, grumbling at New York traffic, he still seemed a bit like an apparition, something Tristan’s sad little attention-starved psyche had procured out of nothingness to save him from his pathetic life. Please . You’d never be able to imagine a guy this fit. He probably wouldn’t have. He’d never seen one, for sure. Not a drop of hyperbole either. Henry was literally the hottest guy Tristan had ever seen. By far. For the life of him, he hadn’t a clue why Henry was paying attention to him.
    “Have you spent much time on the Upper East Side?” Henry asked.
    Tristan wasn’t very familiar with the parts of the city that didn’t contain his flat, his office, or the curry takeaway he’d practically moved into. He shook his head. “I did a bit of sightseeing when I first arrived, and I’ve been to Central Park a couple of times, but I don’t really know my way around my own neighborhood. I didn’t want to wander too far.”
    “It’s a different world,” Henry said. “The people are….”
    “Well-off?”
    “That’s a word for it,” Henry replied. Tristan thought he might hear a little bit of bitterness in his voice.
    “I mean, I’ve seen it in films. Looks a bit stuffy. Too posh for me.”
    At that Henry smiled. “Too posh for me too.”
    “Are you mimicking me again?” Tristan asked. His belly warmed at the thought of Henry teasing him.
    “Maybe a little. Are you going to tell me to piss off again?”
    “Maybe a little.”
    They were quiet after that. Tristan watched block after block pass, numbered streets getting higher, buildings getting taller. He’d always liked the buzz of the big streets of New York. London was big and busy too, but it never felt quite the same, like there was this current of energy pushing the whole place along and everyone with it. He supposed it was easy to get lost in the shuffle, to forget yourself in the crowd. He’d been doing that for weeks, slowly blending into the scenery until there wasn’t much of him left. He’d felt a little of himself coming back after the previous night. Maybe, at least.
    “You said this woman is friends with your sister?” he finally asked. They’d made it through what he knew to be midtown. The buildings were slowly pulling apart, not as squished, not as tall or crowded. He thought they might be getting close.
    “She is friends with Trix. I’m not sure how close they really are. Trixie tends to collect a lot of frenemies. This Poppy woman might be one of them. Honestly, I’d never heard of her until the other night. That doesn’t mean much, though. I tune Trix out a lot when she starts on her friends.”
    “Why?”
    Henry looked uncomfortable. “Not really my scene.”
    “I get it. Who is your scene, then?”
    That got a smile. “I have some really