Page 39 of Somewhere Along The Line
“I boarded the B Line at Roosevelt, heading toward downtown, in the third car. I always enter the third car.”
“Great. Did anything seem amiss when you boarded the train?”
“No, though I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings. I saw an open seat and made my way to it.”
“Why did you choose that seat?” The smirk returns to James’s face, and I lean forward to shove at his knees.
“They’re not going to ask me that, James!” I huff as he breaks out in a laugh. He must be tallying a point for J on his mental scoreboard.
“Your reaction is why we’re doing this, Pipes. You tried to talk a big game a second ago about me not being able to fluster you. Show me that you can control yourself.”
“You’re trouble,” I muse. He doesn’t understand just how much.
“Answer the question.”
“I chose the seat because I wanted to sit next to you.”
“Uh-huh. And why was that?” James pitches forward, his hands dropping between his knees, stony blue eyes stuck on mine.Why did I agree to this exercise, again?
“I sat next to you because I had something to give you.”
“Was that the only reason? You’re under oath, remember.”
“But I’m not!” Thrusting my arms out in front of me, I wave maniacally. “We’re in your living room, James. These questions aren’t going to help when I get on the stand, and you know it. You’re just messing with me.”
“Am I?” He slides closer to me, sitting on the very edge of the cushion with his forearms resting on his thighs. Our knees almost touch. “Because when we decided to see this agreement through you told me your concerns. You knew that managing your anxiety could be a problem. I told you then and I’m telling you now that I can handle you, but you have to let me. I’m doing my job here—focus on yours.”
I settle my butt on the stool, accepting that I can’t worm my way out of this exercise. He has a point. Jamesismaking me nervous, and I amnotmanaging it well.
“Fine. I sat next to you because I had something to give youandI wanted to talk to you.”
“That wasn’t so hard, yeah?” I roll my eyes for dramatic effect. “And what happened next?”
“You offended me by suggesting I wouldn’t hold up my end of our bargain.”
“I did.” He nods.
“And then you put your hand on my leg and apologized.”
“I did.” A stark pause hangs between us. “I’m surprised you remember that. It was only for a second.”
Breaking character, a pleased expression warms his face, as though his memory of that fleeting moment cracks something open within him… just like it does for me.
“And after that?”
“There was a loud noise, a pop or a bang, and I thought it was a bomb or maybe a gun. I dove for cover between the seats.”
“Of course. Were you alone?” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he holds eye contact.
“No. I was with you.”
He rolls up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, exposing his forearms as he folds the fabric to his elbows. I try not to look. The tension between us is like a guitar string pulled taut, one that would snap with one more turn of the knob.
With every question, James twists the string tighter.
I won’t be the one to break, even though Iwantto. Letting go of control, letting James get me all riled up to bring me back down again… it’s an inviting idea. The building ache between my legs is at war with my brain about tonight’s preferred outcome, and I realize I’m not just sparring with James. I’m also fighting myself.
“Can you describe your position?”
