Page 75 of Somewhere Along The Line
How long has James been planning this?
My mind goes still as the next question comes:Does he mean these words he’s singing?
The song ends and the train is quiet, a silence I’ve never considered possible in an environment like this. James looks so adorable, so ridiculous, so earnest I want to wrap him up with a bow and stick him in my pocket. Frankly, it should be a crime for him to look like this. I can’t stand it.
“James, what in the world…” I ask as I search his face for answers, reluctantly pulling my eyes away from the deep V of his white, bedazzled suit. As much as I like him in it, I think I’d like him better out of it.
He settles our joined hands on my leg before taking the fingers of his free hand and guiding my chin until our eyes lock. My flesh burns under his touch, sparks radiating between his skin and mine.
“Piper,” he starts quietly, with as much intention as I’ve ever seen. “I… haven’t been fully honest with you.” His eyes implore me to stay with him, to not let my worried mind wander and miss this next part. “I can’t ask you to start over with me, to build a foundation based on truth, unless I am willing to do the same.”
I nod, catching a few shaky breaths and pushing them into my lungs as he continues. He slides his hand from my jaw to my collarbone before settling it over my heart.
“That first day you sat down next to me on the train, on this train, in this seat, when I offered to add you to my commuter account? I didn’t have one.” He clears his throat and maintains his gaze, searching my eyes with his. They’re a deeper blue today, flecks of gray reflecting the metal surrounding us.
“The first time I saw you, about two weeks prior, my car was in the shop. I was pissed I had to take the train, that I had to take an important call on public transit. And then you stepped in with your wild hair and your vintage t-shirt, looking completely at home with yourself even while disheveled.”
We both chuckle. “The atmosphere changed when you stepped into the car that morning. The universe shifted in a way I couldn’t name. It made me feel like I could breathe again, or maybe for the first time ever.”
Tears cloud my eyes as James talks, as his thumb grazes over the top of my hand. His throat works down a swallow.
“I paid the fare in cash each day after just to watch you for the fourteen minutes between your two stops. So I could study your face from the back of the car and wonder what it was about you that made me feel at home too.
“The day you stepped on my shoe, and I barely said two words to you? I wasn’t angry, I was nervous. I was nervous to have you so close to me, to feel so acutely something like hope but that I couldn’t name, not yet.”
“This stupid family pass,” he brings a hand to his wallet and takes out the card, worn around the edges just like my heart, “is the only pass I’ve ever had. I never wanted to ride the train, Piper. I wanted to spend time with you. And of course, I didn’t know you then, the day we made our deal. I just knew, somewhere deep, that I needed to.”
I can’t force a single word out of my mouth which seems to shock us both, my usual nervous dialogue strangely silent.
“What I’m saying, P, is my soul knew from the first moment I saw you that you are it for me. I’m sorry it took so fucking long for my heart, my brain, and my courage to catch up. I'm still not sure how to do this—how to be in a relationship, and how to keep you safe from me at my worst when I’m selfish and an all-around asshole. I just know I can’t lose you again.”
“James,” his name comes out like a croak, pushed into my throat and around the lump sitting solidly in the middle, “I don’t need you to keep me safe, and I don’t need you to be selfless. You’re allowed to be an asshole sometimes.”
It makes me laugh to hear it coming out of my mouth and it lights a smile on James’s face as he listens intently. “I need to know you can handle my mess and that you trust me to handle yours. That’s what you said, right? The day the smoke bomb happened? You said, ‘I can handle you,’ and you meant it. I can handle you too, James, and I mean it.”
He tips his forehead to mine, the tuft at the front of his hair crunching slightly as it meets my skin, a testament to the amount of hairspray he must’ve used for this Elvis ‘do. I can’t stop my mouth from pulling up toward my cheeks, a cheesy smile spanning the width of my face.
“I’m all yours, P, my fear and my hope, my heart and my mess,” he whispers against my cheek, his breath tickling softly against the edge of my smile. “Whether you want it or not, I’m yours.”
I pull myself away just long enough to angle my lips to his, to slip into a kiss so tender it might melt me into a puddle on the floor of this train car. James’s hand slides up to cup the back of my head, his fingers weaving through my hair as his mouth moves with mine, his other hand reaching around to the small of my back and sliding me closer to him.
Our kiss is interrupted by a chorus of cheers and whistles, the earlier flash mob staring starry-eyed as they look at us. I forgot, until now, that there was anyone else on the train.
“So that’s a yes?” a man shouts, leaning his ear in our direction but with his face turned to the rest of the crowd, hyping them up with his arms.
“Let me ask the damn question first, Kyle!” James rolls his eyes and while I’m dying to know if this Kyle iswork Kyle, I’m more eager to hear the question.
“Piper,” James says as he bows his head, looking both sheepish and gleeful as he sucks in a breath. “Will you start from the beginning with me?”
I give him a gentle thwack on the arm before turning to the crew and Kyle…and Sami (?!)who is leaning against Kyle with concerning closeness… and then back to James to give a confident “YES.”
The crowd goes wild as we return to our kiss, melting together with a heat that could power the sun. While he doesn’t say the words, his mouth communicates exactly what mine replies: I missed you. I need you. Thank God I'm yours.
The skittering of the train’s wheels shakes us out of our embrace as we pull into the station. James grips my hand and brushes his lips across my knuckles before leading me toward the doors, his other arm steady across my lower back. The touch is so natural and yet it makes my stomach tumble to my knees.I’m his.
We come up behind the crowd and I’m shocked to see a handful of my coworkers (those whom James met at the gala), plus several folks who appear to know James based on the approving nods and slaps on the back they give him as they exit. We step onto the platform and Sami tugs us away from the flow of commuters.
She grabs my free hand with a squeal and pulls me into a hug, rocking us both from side to side.
