Gossip Girl: It Had To Be You

S is a sight for sore eyes

Serena hadn't specified where he should meet her, so Nate stood at the end of the platform where her train was supposed to arrive, waiting. He'd been in the city for two days before he'd finally called. He didn't want to be stoned when he talked to her or stoned when he saw her, and it had taken him that long to get it out of his system. Not that he had a clear head. He was shaking all over, partly from withdrawal but mostly because he couldn't wait to see her get off that train and—

There it was, the silver Metro-North train with its thick orangey-red stripe. The headlights eased toward him and then the train stopped with a whoosh. The doors opened and she stepped onto the platform, three cars down, wearing a thin light blue slip dress and pink rubber flip-flops, her pale blond hair hanging nearly to her waist. She spotted him and her face lit up with the most glorious smile. Then she broke into a run, her flip-flops thwacking the ground as she came closer and closer.

He wrapped her in his arms and picked her up, swinging her around like a little kid. "Oh, Natie, you're so strong!" she laughed, and then she leaned in and kissed him right on the lips.

Nate closed his eyes and held her for a second longer before putting her feet back down on the platform. He was pretty sure this was about to be the best day of his summer, or maybe even his life. He was in no hurry. "Let's get a drink in that place upstairs," he told her gruffly, trying to hide the fact that he had just experienced his very first swoon.

"I'm such an idiot," Serena gushed, threading her arm through his. "I didn't bring any money or keys or anything. I had to beg the conductor to let me stay on."

They walked up the marble stairs from the lower level and entered the station's enormous, elegant main terminal. Briefcase-toting commuters in linen summer suits hurried past to catch the trains back to their homes in Westchester and Connecticut. A woman wearing a green-palm-leaf-and-pink-flamingo-print Lilly Pulitzer dress and a gigantic yellow straw hat stood in the center of the terminal examining the train schedules on the board over the quaintly old-fashioned marble and steel Metro-North ticket counter while her white Yorkie nervously circled her pink espadrilled feet. Serena had always loved the gorgeous station with its cool marble corridors, romantic Old New York restaurants and bars, and the vast, sea-green vaulted ceiling decorated with marvelously unexpected gold paintings of the zodiac. Despite the fact that Grand Central was the largest station in the city with trains servicing the whole of New England, it maintained its regal air of competence, just like a good society hostess remained beautifully poised under pressure.

Nate took her hand and led her upstairs to the open-air bar overlooking the main terminal. The bar stools were covered with red velvet and the inside of the station was so airy and timeless, it was hard to believe the sun was blazing outside, raising the temperature to a horrifically humid one hundred degrees.

The seats of their stools were already touching when they sat down, and they didn't bother to move them. "Two dirty martinis, please!" Serena barked at the bartender in a superior voice and then collapsed against Nate's wonderful-smelling chest, giggling. She felt drunk already. What was wrong with her?

Love, baby.

The young bartender looked like David Beckham in a white tux and didn't even card them. Serena sipped her martini without tasting it and stared into Nate's adoring, glittering green eyes. She couldn't tear her eyes away. He looked just like he always looked in a plain white Ralph Lauren polo shirt, khaki Brooks Brothers shorts, and docksiders with no socks, his skin bronzed from working outside all summer and his hair bleached gold by the sun. He was the same—exactly the same Natie she'd dreamt about all summer—but better. He was everything, perfect. She reached out and smoothed down the fine blond hair on his deeply tanned forearm. Then she pulled her hand away, grabbed her martini glass, and gulped her drink. "Aren't you going to tell me about Maine?"

Nate wanted to grab her hand back and put it on his arm again. Touching her was all he could think about. Serena, his girl, his dream girl, was right here, right now, sitting so close, her thigh pressed against his, breathing the same air he was, talking to him and stroking his arm. What was to stop him from kissing her again? And kissing her, and kissing her . . . He tossed back his martini and signaled the bartender for another. "We did a lot of work on the boat. One day I'll take you sailing in it," he gasped, finding it hard to talk.

Why talk when they could be kissing?

Her huge blue eyes were like oceans themselves. "Oh, Natie. It's so good to see you," she gushed, her whole body trembling. "I've been so . . . there's just been way too much of me and not enough of . . . you this summer."

Nate gulped down most of his second martini. His hands felt all grabby and he wasn't sure he could control them. He just wanted to grab every gorgeous bit of her and hold on. Below them the terminal was milling with people, but it felt like they were the only people in it. Like the entire station had been built for them alone. Their little bar with its pressed-together velvet-covered stools and view of the busy station was pretty damned intimate, but not nearly intimate enough. "Let's go home," he suggested, because he couldn't not suggest it.

And he was pretty sure she wouldn't say no.