Page 86 of The Apparent Trap

We have to have this conversation somewhere else.

Okay, name the place, he writes back.

I consider, wondering. The only place that’s private enough is a terrible plan. But it’s the only place where I can think. My apartment, but don’t get any ideas

Wouldn’t dream of it.

I look up and see his hopeful smirk. I shake my head.

I’ll meet you there.

I walk out without glancing back at him. My nerves have overtaken my entire body. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him. I’m looking forward to walking home and getting some air back into my lungs, but the minute I step outside, I realize it’s a sleety downpour, somewhere between rain and snow. Shit. I’ll have to take the subway.

I dash to the stairs and make my way down to the platform. Even from being outside for ten seconds, I’m already soaked and probably look like a bedraggled cat. Awesome. Hopefully he’ll be a gentleman and give me a head start enough that I can at least give myself a once-over in the mirror before I have to have an impossible conversation.

The Q train arrives, and I breathe a sigh of relief to not be waiting. It’s not super crowded on board, but it’s not empty enough to have any available seats. I’m happy grabbing a pole and staying standing. Maybe it’ll be good for me to have a minute to myself to simply think.

But as the doors start closing, someone puts their foot in to stop them. And when I look up, I see that it’s Lee.

Chapter 28

His eyes widen when he realizes he’s pushed his way onto the exact same subway car I’m in.

“I swear I was trying to give you a minute,” he says, sheepish, as the doors close behind him.

He’s wet, too, and it’s unfair how good that looks on him. I probably have hair already frizzing out in every direction with raccoon eyes to match. He, instead, has on a fitted jacket that looks like it was meant for walks through a misty heath, and his hair holds rain droplets like they’re meant to fall down lusciously. It’s exceptionally unchivalrous.

“Please say something,” he pleads. He looked so composed on television that it’s the first time I’m realizing he might be nervous.

Part of me wants to make it better for him. But I can’t have a conversation here. “This isn’t the place.”

He looks around. “You don’t know anybody on this train.”

“Contrary to what you apparently think, I’m not really interested in involving millions of people in my personal life.”

He winces. “I wasn’t involving anyone. I was trying to be . . .” He sighs. “I know this has been complicated, and so many reasons were there—and are still there—for why we should stay away from each other. But I can’t help how I feel, and I just . . . I wanted to . . .” He’s bumbling, something I’ve never seen this incredibly composed man ever suffer from, and it’s jarring. “I thought it would be romantic to show you that I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I just want you.”

His words echo in my head. I just want you.

I think maybe my heart has stopped? It’s terrifying and beautiful and confusing. And it’s rendered me momentarily speechless.

He clearly can’t sit with the silence, though, because he continues. “I don’t want to wait for our lives to be over before—”

“Wait,” I interject. “Are you quoting the Dawson’s Creek theme song to me?”

“What the fuck is Dawson’s Creek?”

“How can you not know what Dawson’s Creek is? Friends, My Best Friend’s Wedding, even Clueless—it’s literally the same category and timeline of thing!” I know he’s being earnest, but I can’t stop myself.

He’s about to retort when someone behind us chimes in. “Listen, if you’re in a love triangle, it’s actually a pretty brilliant reference.” Both Lee and I swivel around to look at a bespectacled forty-something woman sitting with two friends who are nodding along, as though this is a completely normal interjection. “Because Joey and Pacey—”

“All respect to Joey,” Lee says, cutting her off, “I’m sure he’s a great guy—”

Every woman on the train groans.

“What?” he asks, looking around.

“Dude, even I know Joey’s the girl,” a teen with at least a dozen tattoos and a septum ring retorts, rolling her eyes.