Page 87 of Kiss and Make Love

She embraced me, and I returned the tight squeeze. “Certainly way too long.”

“No doubt.” I pulled back from the hug, but she kept her arms wrapped around my waist.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She tucked a stray curl behind my ear.

I nodded, lost in the closeness of her, in the spicy cinnamon smell of her perfume, in the shock of seeing her again.

“I always kinda thought you were the one that got away.”

My heartbeat picked up. “Really?”

“We were friends, sure, but I wanted more and was too afraid to say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and yet we ended up drifting apart anyway.” Her voice was soft and sincere.

Quinn Park used to have a crush on me? How did I miss that all those years ago? “I didn’t know.”

She shrugged, still holding me in her arms. “How could you?”

No time like the present to take a risk. “I think we need to make up for lost time. Still wanna get that drink? See where the evening takes us?”

The hope in my voice was obvious, but I didn’t care. Quinn Park was here, holding me, confessing she used to care for me in a way I never realized.

“More than ever,” she replied, releasing me and opting to take my hand in hers instead.

Quinn and I walked hand in hand down the street, away from the space Total Dark Speed Dating rented out once a month.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Anywhere you want to take me.”

Her palm against mine felt right. We weren’t starting from scratch. A long time separated those people in high school from the people we were today, but I had a feeling we wouldn’t have a problem getting back on track. Call it intuition, or fate, or karma—whatever you believe.

We knew each other once, and I believed we could know each other again.

The Same Train of Thought

There are chance meetings with strangers that interest us from the first moment, before a word is spoken.

-Fyodor Dostoevsky

Overnight travel was getting tiresome. For more than the obvious reasons. I was fatigued, yes, but also exhausted from the bi-weekly back and forth. At least I didn’t have to drive. That would be untenable. I’d quit my job tomorrow if they told me I had to pay my way or drive myself to these ridiculous meetings. But a job was a job, and this one was halfway decent.

The sleeper train was nice enough, and corporate paid for a first-class car, so at least I had comfortable seating for day travel and small, albeit cozy, sleeping quarters forthe overnight portion. It may as well be my second home. The staff on this line all knew me by name now. I wasn’t sure if I should be proud of that or if it was a little sad.

Every trip was the same. Board Monday morning, ride through the entire day, then turn in for a mediocre sleep in my cabin. Travel through the following morning and arrive around noon at my destination. Best part? Work for six hours before doing it all again in reverse. The same routine every single time.

Except for the day I sawher.

She sat a few seats from me, watching the trees go by out the window while the sun sank low on the horizon. Golden light shone across her body, giving her skin a gilded glow. It contrasted with the dark waves that fell to her shoulders and black, thick-rimmed glasses that outlined her eyes.

Her full figure was soft and sensual. I couldn’t help but notice. Seven months of riding this train, and I’d seen plenty of women. Tall, short, skinny, fat, old, young—you name it. But I’d never seen a woman that made me stop and take note. A woman likeher.

I didn’t want to come across as a creep, staring at her. So, I did my best to keep my eyes on my book—some mass-market paperback thriller I’d picked up at a gas station a week ago. Never read a James Patterson novel in my life. To say it was a struggle to concentrate on the words he’d written was an understatement.

Cursing myself for dressing so casually, I shifted in my seat. I stopped wearing suits on the train after my second commute. There was no reason to be uncomfortable for thirty-odd hours. Jeans and a T-shirt were much more appropriate for the ride, but if there was one day I wished I was back in my suit, it was that day.

Of course, she looked perfect. How could she not? Light, billowy fabric falling around her curves, soft and silky. I wanted to rub my face against it. No doubt she would be even softer.

Caught up in my daydream, I didn’t realize I was staring again until it was too late. Her eyes drifted up and locked on mine. I swear my heart stopped beating for a full second. My instinct was to look away as quickly as I could, but then she did something that stopped me in my tracks.

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