Page 3 of Railed

Her station was next, and when I pulled to a stop, every other thought except her left my mind.

I could feel my growing excitement, the building anticipation of getting to see her again. Except she wasn't the only one I recognized that boarded at her station.

There was a certain brown-haired, red-lipped, smirking seductress making her way toward my control room.

Rosie.

I couldn't believe she was here. She rarely left our apartment before noon, yet here she was, pushing her way into my control room.

Steam hissed out with my annoyance as I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Good to see you, too. What a warm welcome. If you keep it up, I might come along more often."

"Wonderful," I deadpanned.

"You know you love me."

Of course I did. Rosie, Jamie, and I shared everything and I could say with confidence they were the only ones on the island—probably even in the world, who understood me. That didn't change how annoyed I was that she was here. I'd been trying to keep my fascination with a certain blonde passenger to myself, which wouldn’t happen if Rosie rode with me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again.

"Looking to see which passenger has your engines racing."

Tracks.

"You don't know what you're talking about, and you can't be here."

"Scrapyard. Last I checked, you could use a conductor."

I whistled out obscenities as she pulled out a conductor's hat and smoothed it down over her hair. With her red lipstick, dark eyes, and mischievous grin, she was stunning, and I was annoyed. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Rosie wasn't supposed to get to talk to her first. I was the one fascinated with her. I was the one who wanted her.

She turned back and blew me a kiss.

One last chance.

"Come on, leave her alone. You're not jealous, are you?"

She raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if she would take the bait until she smirked and said, "So it's a woman. Wish me luck!"

Scrapyard.

I couldn't chase her down. I couldn't move. I could only watch as she made her way down the aisles and hope that Rosie would overlook my favorite passenger.

Maybe she wouldn't have the same appeal for Rosie as she did for me.

Maybe Rosie would stop before she got to my girl's car. My girl always sat in the back by herself. There was a chance Rosie wouldn't go that far. But I should've known better. When Rosie was on a mission, there was no deterring her. She was like a runaway train with no brakes.

Rosie entered the last car, and it was just her and my girl. What I wouldn't give to be in Rosie's position right now.

Rosie stopped short when she saw her and, knowing how worked up my girl got on these rides, I was curious how this was going to go.

Rosie sauntered over to her and I heard her ask, "Ticket?"

The beautiful blonde blinked, sitting up straighter, clearly confused. Understandably. For as long as she had ridden the train, no one had bothered her or asked about a ticket. She had never even seen a conductor. In fact, there wasn't usually a conductor at all.

"Chooo-choooo," I whistled a last warning to Rosie. She unsurprisingly ignored me.

My girl shrugged and riffled through her bag, found her ticket, and gave it to Rosie. Rosie held the ticket up to the light, inspecting it as though she thought it was fake.