Page 14 of Tempt

“She didn’t tell me you’d reached out,” Hazel murmurs. “We talk semi-frequently. Follow each other’s lives online.” She hesitates. “She’s married. Did she tell you?”

“Yeah. Two kids. She seems happy. I’m glad.”

Hazel nods. “She is happy.”

“Does she know that we kissed, back in the day?”

Her eyes blaze. “Of course she does. I wouldn’t have kept that from her.”

No, of course not. My neck flushes and my gut twists in shame.

“I’ll tell her about this, too.” Hazel drags her lower lip between her teeth. “Although now I’m wondering why she didn’t tell me you’d been in contact.”

“Maybe for the same reason I wrote to her, and not to you? You were very clear with me that you didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

She smiles ruefully. “True.”

Then she wrinkles her nose.

“What?” I ask.

“This is all quite…weird. Don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. I’m a riot of intense emotions over here.”

She laughs. “Stop it.”

“Don’t I look it?”

She drags her gaze over me. Takes her time, too, until I’m aching for more than her eyes. “No,” she finally says, lifting her attention back to my face. “Although maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough. What are you feeling right now?”

Nothing appropriate to say on a train, no matter how private our seats feel. “That I’d really like to continue this conversation when we get back to Toronto. You could—”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Hear me out. Then you can say no, and we’ll go our separate ways if you really think that’s best. The next time I see you—if I ever have the pleasure—I’ll wait for you to introduce yourself, with whatever name you’re using then.”

She presses her lips together and waits.

I can’t read the expression on her face, but I forge ahead anyway. “It’s three days before the holidays. Like you said yourself, what kind of rooms are they going to find you? My place isn’t far from Union. I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay with me tonight. And it would mean that our fun doesn’t have to end just yet.” I lean in. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you again, Hazel. For what that’s worth.”

“A spare room?”

“If you want.”

She turns her head to the side and looks out the window. “We’re nearly there. I can see the lights of the city.”

“The station is going to be a madhouse. Do you really want to stand in a chaotic line when I can offer you…” I do a mental cataloguing of my fridge contents. “Wine, water, and maybe tea, if my milk hasn’t expired.”

She doesn’t answer right away. The announcement comes on overhead that we’re five minutes away from Union Station.

By the time the train steams to a halt under the cavernous roof, I’m sure she’s going to say no. My chest twists as she slowly gathers her belongings, then gives me a bittersweet smile.

“I’ll walk you to the concourse,” I say, putting off the goodbye a few more minutes.

She opens her mouth, but whatever she was going to say dies on her lips. She snaps her head in a quick, decisive nod. “Sounds good.”

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