Stuck: A Secrets and Lies prequel, Booth, Ainsley [phonics story books .txt] 📗

She smiles ruefully. “True.”

Then she wrinkles her nose.

“What?” I ask.

“This is all quite…weird. Don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. I’m a riot of intense emotions over here.”

She laughs. “Stop it.”

“Don’t I look it?”

She drags her gaze over me. Takes her time, too, until I’m aching for more than her eyes. “No,” she finally says, lifting her attention back to my face. “Although maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough. What are you feeling right now?”

Nothing appropriate to say on a train, no matter how private our seats feel. “That I’d really like to continue this conversation when we get back to Toronto. You could—”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Hear me out. Then you can say no, and we’ll go our separate ways if you really think that’s best. The next time I see you—if I ever have the pleasure—I’ll wait for you to introduce yourself, with whatever name you’re using then.”

She presses her lips together and waits.

I can’t read the expression on her face, but I forge ahead anyway. “It’s three days before the holidays. Like you said yourself, what kind of rooms are they going to find you? My place isn’t far from Union. I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay with me tonight. And it would mean that our fun doesn’t have to end just yet.” I lean in. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you again, Hazel. For what that’s worth.”

“A spare room?”

“If you want.”

She turns her head to the side and looks out the window. “We’re nearly there. I can see the lights of the city.”

“The station is going to be a madhouse. Do you really want to stand in a chaotic line when I can offer you…” I do a mental cataloguing of my fridge contents. “Wine, water, and maybe tea, if my milk hasn’t expired.”

She doesn’t answer right away. The announcement comes on overhead that we’re five minutes away from Union Station.

By the time the train steams to a halt under the cavernous roof, I’m sure she’s going to say no. My chest twists as she slowly gathers her belongings, then gives me a bittersweet smile.

“I’ll walk you to the concourse,” I say, putting off the goodbye a few more minutes.

She opens her mouth, but whatever she was going to say dies on her lips. She snaps her head in a quick, decisive nod. “Sounds good.”

Chapter 3

Hazel

We’re the last ones off the train, and as soon as I step down onto the platform, Sam’s beside me. He takes my carry-on suitcase and crosses it to his far side, letting our close arms brush as we walk together.

I can feel him even through our winter jackets. Me in my parka, him in a proper wool overcoat.

“So,” I say after we walk up the ramp. There’s a long line of people at the ticket counter. None of them look happy, and there’s an angry buzz of conversations as hundreds of holiday plans get discussed and revised and ruined all at the same time.

“So,” he repeats. “Look—”

“I should figure out what I need to do with my ticket.” But I don’t move.

I don’t want to get in that line.

I don’t want to say goodbye, because we’ve done this once before. We’ve left unfinished business on the table for a decade, and it didn’t feel good.

“Would you want to have sex?” I blurt out. That is not at all how I’d write it in a book. Nothing ever happens the way I write it in a book, though, so why should this be different? “If I came back to your place.”

He grins and shoves one hand through his perfect hair, making it even more perfect. “Want to? Hazel, I got one kiss ten years ago and I’ve always wanted more. I’m not going to pretend to be a Boy Scout. But whatever we do is up to you. We can just talk. Or maybe we could…” He drops his gaze to my mouth, and I can feel his lips there. The one kiss we shared. The reason I never wanted to talk to him, ever again. “Would you want to try another kiss?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Wait. No.”

I look around. Not here.

Reaching out, I wrap my hand around his wrist and tug, leading him away from the main concourse and down a hallway past the business lounge.

It’s not a dark nook at a club, but it’s a bit more private.

I stop and turn in, closing the space between us. “Hi,” I say, and my voice wavers a bit.

“Deja vu,” he murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“It’s been a long day and I was supposed to start a mini-break getaway for one, but instead I ran into a guy I once kissed, on the train, and then an ice demon stopped us in our tracks and now I think I’m going to kiss him again. It’s all a bit overwhelm—” I swallow as he brushes his fingers against my cheek. “—ing,” I add in a whisper.

“That’s quite the day.” He leans forward, his breath warm as our faces get closer to each other. “Are you going to kiss him, or do you want him to kiss you?”

I push up on my toes, giving him my mouth. His lips are warm and firm, yielding to my exploration. He feels like he’s smiling, and I like that. I like it even more when he slides his hands into my hair.

Ten years has changed how he kisses. The setting is wildly different, too.

But I know this mouth. Not well. Just a fleeting, perfect memory. A bittersweet what-if remembrance that would pop up from time to time, and is now blooming once again in my mind.

A long time ago, when we were both different people, we’d wanted to sleep together and for very good reasons we chose not to. I chose not to, anyway.

Tonight, I want to make a different choice.

I lean back against the wall, finding an inch of space between us. Too much, but necessary for a conversation. “So,