Page 24 of Legally Yours

He ran both hands furiously through his hair, back to front, causing pieces to stick up around his ears. Charmingly disarrayed, he was the farthest thing from some hotshot lawyer full of arrogance and bullshit. He just looked like a normal guy trying to figure out how to talk to a girl he liked, flubbing it every chance he got. It was…adorable.

“Okay. Brandon,” I repeated slowly, although I refused to meet his eyes. I needed to hold onto my resolve. “I’ve been taking the subway by myself since I was ten. I’ve lived in this city practically my whole life. And I can tell you, without a doubt, most of New York is safer at any time of night than half of Boston.”

He stared at me, dumbfounded. “You’re really going to refuse a ride?”

“Yes,” I said, defiantly pulling my beanie farther over my ears. The wind off the East River zipped down Canal Street like a funnel.

“Try to do the right thing, what do you get?” he grumbled to himself. “Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do.”

“Guess not.”

But as I started down the steps of the subway entrance, he continued with me.

“What are you doing now?” I demanded.

“I’m seeing you home. No—” he held a hand up while the other fished into his interior jacket pocket for a small billfold. “I won’t make any more inappropriate comments, I promise. I’m not an asshole, Skylar, and I’ll prove it to you. But seeing you home—that’s not up for discussion. You’re not walking around by yourself this late at night. I can be stubborn too, Red.”

Several retorts rose to my lips, all cut off by the sweet perseverance on his face. The arrogant shithead was gone, leaving only the person I had met that first night: the confident, maybe even shy man who followed me into a blizzard and took me safely back to his home. Maybe—just maybe—he was worried about me.

“Are you going to leave me alone after this?” I asked. “Or am I going to find you lurking outside my family’s house in the morning?”

Brandon held up both hands in surrender. “You’ll never see me again if that’s what you want. I just can’t handle letting you walk around on dark streets past midnight. Soon as you’re home safe, I’m gone.”

I sucked on my bottom lip, considering. He blinked, no sign of guile or mischief left in his eyes, now a pale blue. I exhaled a long breath. Maybe I should have said no. But the fact was…I didn’t want to.

“Fine,” I said, and we continued down to the train.

It wasn’t until I had already run my MetroCard through the reader that I realized Brandon hadn’t accompanied me through the turn stall.

“You need to get a card over there,” I said, nodding at a pod of dispensers where a few people were lined up to purchase their cards.

His face fell. “No tokens anymore?”

I bit back a laugh. “How long has it been since you took the train?”

A faint flush rose in his cheeks, which made me want to hug him. Shit.

“I’ll get a card,” he muttered and trudged back to purchase one of the flimsy pieces of plastic for his very own.

* * *

“It’sa good thing I came with you,” Brandon said once we were well on our way across the East River. He spoke loudly so he could be heard over the roar of the tracks. “Maybe the people aren’t so dangerous, but I saw two rats who would eat you for dinner. I think they carried machetes.”

I smiled. “Oh, that’s nothing. My dad’s seen some in dumpsters he swore were as big as terriers.”

Brandon chuckled, but his face paled. “That’s disgusting,” he pronounced.

I laughed out loud, startling the other passengers. “You haven’t spent time around normal people in a while, have you?”

He narrowed his eyes, though they were still full of mirth. “I don’t know what you mean. I take the T to work every day.”

“You mean to the office that’s ten blocks from your mansion on the Common?”

Brandon faked a double take. “You mean I can walk there? And here I’ve been going to Dorchester and back every morning. This is going to do wonders for my commute!”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. When Brandon wasn’t trying to put the moves on me, he was very personable.

In Williamsburg, an inebriated pair staggered into our car and collapsed on the bench next to Brandon. They were probably a few years younger than me. They were also dressed for a night out and not for the weather: the girl wore an extremely short leather skirt paired with thigh-high black boots, while her date had on fashionably skinny jeans and a button-down shirt under a leather jacket. As soon as they landed on the seat, they were all over each other, shoving their tongues into each other’s mouths and pawing at the hems of their garments.

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