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I’m this close to tacking on, “Do you want to be my friend?” It’s been a while since I last tried to flirt with anybody, but I’m pretty sure sounding like a first grader who’s trying to make friends on a playground isn’t the best strategy. Next thing I’ll ask him if he wants to play with my Tonka truck, which would sound simultaneously dirty and just plain wrong, so I’m not going to risk it.
Not knowing what else to do, I lift my hand, and we awkwardly shake in the crowded space, bumping our elbows into strangers and garnering angry looks. I don’t care. His palm is large and warm and as perfect as a palm can be. I’m not sure what else to say, so I just stare, and he calmly watches me in return, bright blue eyes looking at me like he’s searching for something.
“Do you come here often?”
Yeah, I just said those words. This is going terribly, and I don’t think I’m being as irresistibly seductive as I imagined I would be.
“Kind of,” he says, dragging his fingers through his hair, making the muscles of his forearms flex and bunch. I can’t pull my eyes away.
“That’s cool.”
I think it’s safe to say my appeal lessens with every word that comes out of my mouth. Maybe I should just shut up and be the silent, mysterious type.
“I’ve seen you around,” Caleb says, looking adorably bashful. “We happen to be on the same train a lot.”
I nod vigorously, my head bobbing up and down so hard that it probably looks like I’m trying to shake it off my shoulders.
“A happy coincidence,” I say.
He smiles. “Very.”
The unintelligible announcement sounds, and I scrunch my nose. “That’s my stop.”
Caleb looks around. “Already?”
Was that regret? It sounded like regret! My heart does a happy skip in my chest.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again?” I ask as people start pushing toward the doors.
“I’ll be here.”
This is the best day ever!
4
Caleb
There is no real reason for me to be on the train the next morning. I wasn’t scheduled to work, but of course somebody called in sick, so now I’m up. I don’t need to be there for another thirty minutes, but you can bet your ass I’m sitting in my usual seat like clockwork. The blond guy August is usually with is nowhere to be seen, but August steps onto the train like always.
He takes a look around, and when he sees me he sends me a small smile, like we’re sharing a secret. He hesitates for a quick second before he straightens himself up and heads in my direction.
“Hi there,” he says. “Remember me?”
“Uh…” I’m lost for words because I’m not sure how he figures it’s even possible that I don’t remember him, but August seems to take my hesitation as confirmation that I really do have a super short memory.
“We met yesterday?” he prompts. “I’m August?”
He’s starting to look unsure of himself, like he somehow, through some sheer fuckery, thinks he’s unmemorable, so before he can escape, I lay my palm on his forearm.
“I know,” I hurry to say.
I remember every second! I know your stop! I know that you have dimples when you smile!
I take a slow breath to try and dial down the eager puppy vibes.
“Is this seat taken?” He nods toward the empty one next to me.
I shake my head. “No, no. Please.”
