Scenes From the City: A Knitting in the City Wintertime Surprise by Penny Reid

hold us in place, because we weren’t in a race. There was no finish line, no end, no goal, no urgency. I needed him, and he was here. I was finally here. We were finally together.
    I felt tears sting behind my eyes, and I didn’t try to blink them away.
    “Drew,” I said, my voice watery. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much. I need you.”
    His mouth hitched to the side, his gaze softening. “There you are, Sugar…” His voice held traces of satisfaction and relief, as though he were finally seeing me, as though I’d just arrived.
    He kissed the side of my mouth and whispered, “I’ve missed you, too.”
    “I love you,” I said though my chin wobbled, because I did love him. I understood what he meant when he’d said it earlier and why he’d said it three times.
    He loved me, he was loving me now, and he would love me in the future.
    I allowed myself to actually feel our joining, focus on it, on him. With every stroke I felt the anxiety and tension evaporate. I was present in the moment, still greedy for him, but finding peace and fulfillment in the knowledge that we now had nothing but time.
    And time was finally on my side.
    ~END~

Scene 5: Ninja at First Sight
    Author’s Note: Book #5 in the Knitting in the City Series will be Fiona and Greg’s book and is entitled Happily Ever Ninja . It will take place as a contemporary to the rest of the series. These scenes, however, take place fourteen years before the series starts. Fiona is 32 in Neanderthal Seeks Human . She is 18 in these scenes.
    ***
Part 1: Two ninjas walk into a bar…
    “I don’t like this. I feel like I’ve been lied to.” My mother said this loudly, glaring at the open door to the suite area. I was certain her voice carried down the hall. “I’ve never heard of co-ed dorms . It’s disgusting. They might as well just hand out condoms and host an orgy.”
    I was silent, though I was tempted to point out that my university did hand out condoms during orientation. Really, the goal was to encourage her to leave as soon as possible. Therefore, any mention of condoms, regardless of how much passive-aggressive joy it might bring me, would be counterproductive.
    “I see your face. Just you wait.” She glared, pointed her finger at me.
    I lifted my eyebrows and shrugged. “What?”
    “Just you wait until you have children, then you’ll understand. When you have your own children, you’ll be calling me up and apologizing for everything you’ve put me through.”
    Turning back to the box of books I was unpacking, I muttered under my breath, “Yeah, that’s not likely.”
    I heard footsteps approach and turned toward the open door just in time to see my father enter, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “There sure are a lot of young men hanging around here. When I went to Cornell, boys weren’t allowed to just wander around in the women’s dorm. They weren’t allowed in at all.”
    My father winked at me, obviously knowing this statement would drive my mother crazy. He lived for pushing her buttons. I gave him a pained smile.
    “They’re not hanging around, George.” She leaned closer to him and loud-whispered, “They live here!”
    “Live here? Huh…” His eyes widened with what I knew was mock surprise, then he added thoughtfully, “I need to go back to college.”
    “George!” She smacked him on the shoulder, her forehead a maze of consternation wrinkles. “How can you joke about this? Fiona could be raped, murdered, or worse!”
    I frowned at my mother, tempted to ask what she had in mind that was worse than rape or murder. She was a reactionary, always had been. She followed the mantra of react first, think later (if at all). I loved her, but she was exhausting.
    “Okay.” I said loudly, “Time for you to leave. Let me walk you to the elevator.”
    My mother huffed, and I could see the anxiety on her face. My heart softened a little—a very, very little—at her expression but then hardened when she