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Chapter 13
KEALY
Icouldn’t be friends with people who wouldn’t ride the subway.
It was rigid and judgmental of me to think that way—all things I normally tried really hard not to be—but New York’s subway was the great equalizer, and if someone felt they were above riding it, well, then they shouldn’t hang out with me.
And what was Marlon’s take on it?
Let’s just say the guy did not let me down. In fact, it was his idea to grab the subway after brunch. His suggestion was music to my ears.
“Why are you smiling so brightly?” he asked as we descended the subway steps. Holding hands.
We hustled along. There was no strolling when it came to public transit. If you were going to take it, then you had to commit to moving your ass. On the way to a stuffy platform that smelled liked a homeless person’s pee, you had to move like you were being chased by a wild animal.
It made no sense, I know. A lot of things about New York made no sense. A lot of things about life, and especially my life, made no sense.
Like why, after years of being bounced around in the foster system, did I suddenly fall into the warm embrace of a family like Marina’s that came to love, support, and believe in me?
Talk about extremes. I wouldn’t have minded if the ups and downs had been a little less mountainous, a little less dramatic. But that’s not the way life had been for me.
“I really like the subway. In fact, I kind of love it,” I told him.
I looked up at him. Actually, looked way up at him, that’s how tall he was. His brown skin glistened with a thin layer of perspiration from walking, and it didn’t help that the platform had zero air circulation. That is, until a train roared into the station whipping the muggy overheated air into a wave that smacked you across the face. It would invade your nostrils as deeply as any smell could, leaving you with the taste of it on your tongue and the ooze of it trickling into your pores. Blech.
But like I said, I loved it. There were so many things about New York that were a pain in the ass, that the one thing that was relatively easy and cheap got my utmost respect.
I leaned against one of the vertical beams on the subway platform that held a sign saying 72nd Street, and Marlon moved closer until I was pretty much sandwiched between him and it. He leaned on the beam by placing a hand above my head.
“I can’t say I’ve ever heard anyone say they loved the subway,” he said quietly, moving closer and closer
“Really? Well, everyone else is crazy. I’m the normal one,” I said.
And even though we were in my adored dirty, stinky subway, I felt like I was on top of the world at that moment. Winning the lottery could not have made me feel better than having this gorgeous man hovering over me, looking at me like I was awesome. I hadn’t felt special many times in my life and certainly hadn’t since Muse had screwed me over and Forest ignored my appeals. But for that moment in time, I did.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“For what?”
“Oh, everything. Brunch, inviting me to your party, taking the subway. Looking at me like that.”
He moved a little closer, and I could feel his warm breath. Ten trains could have gone by and I would not have noticed.
“How am I looking at you, Kealy?” he asked.
Goddamn, he was hot.
“Like you want to kiss me. Really badly,” I said.
Booyah.
Thank god I was leaning against something.
“Well, that’s funny. Because I do want to kiss you badly. But I’m not surprised you figured it out. You’re a smart girl.” He breathed the words onto my lips, and when he was done speaking, overwhelmed me with a sweet kiss I found myself wishing would never end. His lips were soft and gentle, the perfect contrast to his huge hand that hooked a couple fingers under my chin.
My breath started to come in short gasps, and if I wasn’t careful, I knew I’d be tearing my clothes off right there on the subway platform. And his too.
“Mmmm,” he murmured. “Sweet girl.”
He pulled back, took my hand, and led me onto the train that had just pulled into the station.
* * *
Marlon dropped me off in front of my building before he got back on the subway to continue home. I floated up to my apartment, captivated by…well, everything.
“Keal? That you?” Fantine called from the sofa.
“Nope. It’s a burglar.”
“Hey, that’s not funny,” she said.
“Okay, then. Yes, it’s me.”
She clicked off her movie, sat up, and crossed her arms.
“Geez. Is something wrong?” I asked. You never knew with her whether she was mad about something or just being dramatic.
“Spill it. I want to hear everything. And is he mad at me about the plant?”
I took a deep breath. “Well, first, he could not care less about the plant. Said he didn’t even really like it anyway.”
She nodded, relieved she didn’t have to spend money on something other than clothes or shoes.
“And…?” God, she was demanding.
