Juniper
If I had known Matias’s secret date would involve a private water taxi ride and a secluded rooftop garden in Brooklyn that he had apparently rented out for the evening, I would have stopped teasing him about his lack of romance three weeks ago. We sat at a small, intimate table surrounded by climbing white roses, the distant, muffled hum of Manhattan’s traffic drifting across the river. The air was cool, but the heavy, luxurious warmth of the cashmere coat Matias had draped over my shoulders kept the chill away.But it was mostly, his close proximity that was keeping me warm.We had abandoned our shoes at the entrance of the rooftop garden his leather loafers and my heels sitting side by side on the brick path leaving us walking barefoot across the cool, dew kissed grass."Matias,"
