Page 144 of Deception

“I’m not. I think everyone should be able to live how they want.”

Gloria narrows her eyes at me, trying to decide if I’m serious. She looks away abruptly, scanning the drink menu, nibbling the corner of her lip.

“Whisky, avec des glaçons.” I spout off to the bartender. He nods, glancing at my impromptu date.

“Deux,” she shrugs, slapping the menu down.

“Siderodromophobia.” I take a sip. Not bad. For crap.

“Ah, so youarejust being difficult.”

“No, it means I’m afraid of trains and riding on them. Rocketing, metal ball of fire waiting to happen.”

“Pyrophobia, too? A man of many talents.”

“Fear can be a very compelling coach. The only fires I’m scared of are the ones my two little brothers start.”

“So not an only child,” she notes with a point of her finger, like she’s checking off a list.

“I take it you are?”

“Very. Spoiled rotten. Also traumatized by oddly specific strict rules, too.”

“That’s the deluxe combo. Nice.”

We sit in pleasant silence for a few, less horrifying miles.

“You know, fear of trains, or planes, or any travel is perfectly normal. I didn’t mean to poke fun.” She glances at me, smiling reassuringly, a hint of worry in her eyes.

“You can poke fun at me or laugh at me anytime you want if I get to see you smile.” It’s out of my mouth like someone else rented my brain for a split second. Who the fuck says things like that?!

She does that thing again, slipping her hand up to cover her mouth with her knuckles. It’s adorable, it’s an affectation.

Probably a relative always telling her to stop giggling, or a parent pointing out a flaw.

Just like my over analysis of everything around me. Maybe it’s just a gesture.

I stare like a dumbass down into my drink, trying to figure out what to word-vomit next.

“What are you—at University, I mean, what—” I stutter right as the train lurches, rattling like a jet in turbulence. The shudder jolts the bar, knocking me off my stool, sending my drink flying.

One frozen second, we’re flying; the next, I’m grabbing her, rolling to break her fall.

The train regains its smooth kilter.

I lay there staring up into amber eyes, strands of auburn glory brushing my face. Her lips part, I tuck that liquid fire behind her ear.

Then the speaker scratches, chirps and a French guy’s voice ruins my day.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a minor malfunction, and the train will be stopping shortly for safety purposes. All passengers must exit the train at this time, we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Now that’s just bad luck,” Gloria murmurs, still looking into my eyes. She regains her composure with a little squeak and climbs off me, offering me a hand up. I take it, gently, rising as the train slows.

“I guess we should…”

“Get our things, right.”

I look down, noticing we are still holding hands.

---