Page 61 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
“I did. Eventually. We should eat before the food gets cold.”
“Birdie…”
“Did you want me to bring this tray to you?”
“Birdie.”
“We’re supposed to arrive in Chicago at 2:50. I’m going to pack everything up after we eat and then go up to the observation car—to read and see the view.”
“Birdie.”
“It’s snowing a little—did you see? It’s really pretty out there. You should probably buy a coat in Chicago if you have time.”
“Bird. I had a really good time last night.”
“Me too! It was really good. Super fun. Glad we did that.”
“So am I.”
“Great! We don’t have to do the thing where we talk about it.”
“I think we should. I’d like to talk about how beautiful you are and how great the sex was and how badly I want to kiss you again.”
Fuck me, I want to smear my lipstick all over this guy.
I cross one leg in front of the other and twirl strands of hair around my finger. “Oh, well, that’s so sweet, but you wouldn’t want this lipstick all over your mouth.”
“I want it all over my cock, to be honest.” He doesn’t mumble it like a creep. He looks me straight in the eyes. His eyes are clear and honey brown and earnest. My stomach is fluttering. My ears may have heard exactly what he said, but my heart heard a Shakespeare sonnet because his delivery was so sincere.
“Umm… You don’t have to keep doing that thing where you don’t treat me like a friend anymore.”
“I want to treat you like more than a friend. Last night didn’t mean nothing to me. I want you to know that.”
“It didn’t mean nothing to me either, Eddie, but…”
There’s a crackling sound from the wall speaker. Another fucking miracle because that means we have to put a pin in this conversation until Gavin is done with his announcement. But we keep our eyes trained on each other the whole time.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Gavin the conductor here with a little update on our schedule. It’s going to take a little longer than expected to reach our final destination of Chicago Union Station. There’s a buildup of snow and ice on the tracks, and our winter fleet is already hard at work clearing the tracks ahead of us, but we’ll be traveling at a slightly slower speed along the way. Not to worry—things could be a lot worse. This is just a minor delay of approximately forty minutes at this point. So take a little more time to get to know one another, why don’t you? Good things come to those who wait. The Love Train always gets you to your HEA eventually. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the slightly longer than anticipated ride… In other news, we’ve run out of bacon. Please don’t start a riot. Gavin, out.”
By the time the speaker has gone silent, my heart is racing because Eddie has basically made love to my neck and mouth with his eyes from about six feet away.
The air between us is filled with longing and tension, and I’m realizing now that this room totally smells like we had sex in it for hours last night.
I make the tiniest, involuntary move in his direction, and he is up off that bed and meeting me in the middle of the room. Our mouths smash against each other. For one glorious minute, I’m weightless and aware of only our lips and tongues and his hands on my face and the undeniable feeling of hurtling toward a target that I’ve been trying to evade for six years.
But I have no idea what to do once we get there.
I somehow manage to pull away from him, kissing him once or five times, quickly, all over his face.
I grab the container of wipes from my bag and hand it to him. “To wipe the lipstick from your face.” And then I realize I’ve given him the disinfectant wipes, so I take that back and retrieve the packet of regular wet wipes.
“Thanks,” he says, laughing and shaking his head.
“Welcome. Okay. Well. Nice kissing you. Last night was fan-fucking-tastic. I loved it. But we need to go back to being friends. So I’m going to take my breakfast up to the observation car because I can’t handle being around your face and your hands and your Fuck Hair and your penis right now. I’ll be back to pack in a couple of hours.”
I take my phone and my purse and my breakfast tray, and I don’t turn around when Eddie says my name because if I look into those eyes again, I will be screaming out his name in about three minutes.
