We left through the side gate, Nick’s hand linked in mine.I wanted to ask if we were going to take the motorcycle, but the roads were a hazard, and I didn’t think he’d risk both of us on two wheels with ice in the mix.Instead, we walked, past the houses with lights in the windows, past the garbage bins half-buried in snow.
Nick was quiet.Every so often, he’d squeeze my hand, like a signal that he was still there, that I was still real.I didn’t push for a conversation, just matched his silence and watched our footprints stamp the sidewalk behind us, two sets side by side.I should paint that.
When we reached the subway, he paid for both of us, and we found a seat at the end of a mostly-empty car.The train rocked as it pulled away, and the motion was a comfort, the rhythm predictable and safe.I leaned into Nick, letting my head rest on his shoulder, and for a few seconds I was so relaxed I almost fell asleep.
He turned and pressed his lips to my hair.“Tired?”he asked.
“Not really,” I lied.“Just...happy.”
He made a noise, somewhere between a hum and a laugh, and shifted so he could hold my hand in both of his.
“I missed you,” he said.
“The longest four months of my life.”
We let the silence stretch.The train jerked, and an old woman shuffled past, giving us a side-eye that wasn’t entirely disapproving.
“You don’t have to do anything for me, you know.I’m not like one of those girls who needs flowers or fancy dates.”
Nick looked at me, brow furrowed, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.“I know you’re not.That’s why I want to do them.”
It should have made me roll my eyes, but instead it made my heart do a weird hiccup.I looked down at our hands, at the way his thumb was tracing the faint lines of my knuckles and wondered how I’d ever gotten so lucky.
The train slowed, and Nick nudged me.“There’s a place a few stops from here.Coffee shop.They’ll still be open.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, because a coffee shop would allow us to simply enjoy each other's company, and that’s all I wanted.
I looked at the people on the train.Two college kids in beanies debated whether it was “problematic” to order pumpkin spice lattes this late in the season.A man in a suit argued with his Bluetooth headset about a contract extension.A woman in gym clothes spread out her yoga mat and started stretching because apparently, that was now a thing people did in a subway train.
Nick watched them all with that same quiet, tactical focus, but he never let go of my hand.
After a while, he said, “They’re processing my transfer now.It’s basically a done deal.I’ll be in New York full time before the end of the month.”
My face lit up.“That fast?”
He nodded.“I don’t want to be away from you any longer than that.”
“My old apartment is gone.I didn’t feel like continuing the contract while we were in hiding, so I have to find a new place.”
“You want to move in together?”Nick asked with that irresistible grin.
I loved that he asked again, even though we had talked about it before I had gone into protective custody.It would be a huge step, considering how few days we had actually spent together, but certain life experiences could turn one day into a year.Nick knew me about as well as my sisters did, and I knew him, trusted him with my life.
I let myself imagine waking up to Nick every morning, making coffee for two, watching him try to wrestle Meatball into a pet carrier for vet appointments, because yeah, Sean had caught the moody, probably demonic cat and was keeping him at his place that had not only been fixed up but got a security upgrade, turning it into a tiny fortress.
“I would very much like to move in with you,” I answered.
“We’d need an office, and since I don’t like sleeping on sheets covered in paint, you’ll need a studio,” Nick pointed out.
“So, we need a three-bedroom apartment.”Rent math while living in New York was not my favorite, but I had painted so much while we were locked away in that cabin that I should be good for a while, assuming Lara could sell it all.She had promised to organize a solo show for me next month.“Do we need it close to your job?”
Nick hummed.“Maybe we can find something between the gallery and the FBI office?I don’t want you to have to travel that far, either.”
“Subway stations are more important than distance for me,” I reminded him.“The gallery is on the Q line, so any area with a station on the Q line would be perfect for me.”
Nick turned to the subway map hanging by the door and nodded.“I think we can find something that will work for both of us.”
Somehow, this moment right here was all I had ever wanted.Riding the subway, surrounded by weirdos doing yoga on the train, talking about moving in together, just being close to each other felt better than any fancy date at an expensive restaurant.
