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They’d nearly made it over the bridge to the parking lot when off in the distance, the long horn sounded.
“Wait, here comes a train.” He tugged her back to the center of the bridge, where the train would go directly under them.
She laughed. “What are we, twelve?”
“Double that and add a few years for me.”
She grasped the chain fence and watched the train approach. Blake came up close behind her, grabbing the fence so his hands were on the outside of hers.
“This is fun. Kind of like we’re in the movie Titanic but with trains,” she yelled over the growing noise.
He laughed and yelled back, “Does that mean I get to paint you naked?”
She glanced back at him and gave him a flirtatious look. “I don’t know; can you paint?”
“Finger paint.”
The horn on the train sounded, and she yelped and turned her attention back.
“Here it comes,” Blake called out.
Beneath her feet, the bridge began to vibrate, and the ground rumbled as the train came closer to them. The horn blew, the whine changing pitches as the train finally roared beneath them.
An instant breeze whipped her hair back, and the shaking on the bridge increased.
Adrenaline rushed through her, and she did a half scream, half laugh, leaning back against Blake as car after car on the train passed under them.
It was fun and impulsive, oddly sweet and romantic, and unfortunately over within five minutes. It made her almost reluctant to leave the fence and the intimate position they were in.
By the time they climbed into his truck, there was still a dizzying rush rocking her that might not have had much to do with the train.
While they drove to his apartment, she realized no guy had ever made her feel like this before.
Was this the getting attached part everyone warned her about after one lost their virginity? Or perhaps something more?
There didn’t seem to be an easy answer, kind of like the text from Paul still sitting on her phone.
Later.
She’d deal with all of that later.
For now? Blake. She wanted all things Blake until Sunday. And then she’d deal with the cards how they fell.
*
If Blake hadwanted a romantic setting for their night, he couldn’t have planned it better. The temperature had dropped, and the rain had come in. It was the perfect night to light a fire in the gas fireplace and order delivery Indian food.
“I didn’t take you for a four-star girl.” Blake closed the app on his phone that he’d ordered the food on and gave her a teasing smile.
It felt so natural having her here in his apartment, curled up on the sofa beside him.
“Out of context, that could be insulting.”
“I’m referring to the spice level of the chicken madras we just ordered.”
“I know.” She tucked her legs under her bottom on his sofa and returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. “I love spicy food. I’m the type who will carry around those mini bottles of Tabasco in my purse.”
“That’s hot.”
