Somewhere Along The Line

24. James

We’re nearing our first location, and I’ve got Piper tucked into my side, one arm around her waist to guide her forward and the other hovering over her eyes. She must know where we’re going based on the direction we walked from the platform—and the fact I couldn’t cover her eyes for six entire blocks—but I like the idea of surprising her anyway.

I open the door and she shuffles through, clawing at my hand and pulling it down from her face to reveal The Velvet Stool all to ourselves. They’re not usually open in the morning, but I pulled a few strings. Two paper cups wait for us at the bar, and I drag her over, her hand in mind.

“Did you seriously rent this place just to recreate the night I saw you here?” she asks incredulously, scooting herself onto a stool, her legs not quite reaching the floor.

“No, I rented this place out so I could drink coffee with you.” I turn my attention to the paper cups in front of us, each bearing the logo of the coffee shop we visited after giving our depositions.

“An Old Fashioned wouldn’t be appropriate for just after 8 a.m., so I combined two of my favorite memories with you—sitting at this bar knowing you existed just back there,” he points to the high-top tables lining the far wall, “and having a celebratory mug with you and realizing my pretend feelings weren’t so pretend after all.”

“Really?” Piper nods skeptically, mostly for show. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had real feelings for me then.”

“Pipes, I was all over you that day at the station,” I reply with a laugh. “I couldn’t keep my hands off you. Do you think the lady checking us in needed to see me kissing up the length of your neck?”

She blushes a soft pink and runs her hand under her ear as if she might recapture the moment with her fingertips if she’s fast enough.

“I didn’t want to say goodbye to you that morning,” I continue. “I didn’t want to lose any time I might convince you to spend with me. So we had coffee, even though you were right… I do prefer black tea.”

Her mouth gapes open for a second before it turns to a chuckle. God, it feels good to be honest with her.

With that, I lift my cup to hers and wait for her to meet it, no glass or ceramic “clink” to signify the toast but she knows what I’m looking for. She brings her drink to mine and then to her mouth to take a long pull, her eyes on me as I do the same.

“To what are we toasting, Mr. Newhouse?” she asks.

“To new beginnings—”

She cuts me off. “To seven years of great sex!”

I sweep her into a rough kiss, my mouth meeting hers with enough command that she knows I’ll guarantee it, hopefully for a lot longer than seven years. My fingers trace along the top of her thigh, inching closer to where her leg meets her hip and where I’d like to duck between. I catch her soft moan in my mouth before pulling back with a chuckle.

“Not yet,” I whisper softly. “We just met, remember?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her coffee, giving me a look that tells me she hates ( loves ) when I tease her.

“You know what else I realized that day in the coffee shop?” I bring the conversation back to our beginning. “That I’d love to have coffee with you every morning for the rest of my life.”

“You did not!”

“You’re right. I thought about a lot of other things that were… significantly less appropriate for a coffee shop first.” It makes me chuckle to recall it, the mental tango I danced that morning between what I was thinking in my head and what I was letting come out of my mouth. I don’t bother hiding it now.

“It was part of the same train of thought, actually,” I say, “you sitting at my table with your hands wrapped around a mug and me behind you with my hands wrapped around your…”

“NOT YET!” Piper says with a devilish smile. I pull my hand from her leg and cross my arms, miffed at how easily she throws my words back at me.

“Alright then, your turn. What was going through your head in that café?” I ask.

“Well, first, I was thinking how random it was that you did a gap year in Italy. Renaissance art and a daily afternoon nap didn’t square with my impression of you.”

“To be honest, it didn’t square with me either. Though I did have the time of my life that year—at least, I think I did… a lot of my memories are hazy given the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed.”

Piper tilts her head, a dreamy look warming her brown eyes. “Florence was one of the places I hoped to visit when I worked at Fundament; I had the money to go but not the time.”

“I’ll add it to my list.”

“...What list?”

“The list where I jot down all the things I need to do to convince you to marry me someday. Item one: figure out how to date for real. Item two: book us a flight to Europe. Sounds like an excellent plan to me, Pipes.”

I relish the way Piper looks at me, her pupils expanding with unspoken want as I plan a future with her. For us.

“You know what else I was thinking that day?” She rests her chin on her hand and gazes thoughtfully as she speaks. “That I was grateful for you. That I liked sitting across from you and being a couple, even if it was a ruse. That I didn’t want the morning to end either; I wanted more of it.”

I lean one leg off the stool and straighten to stand, smoothing out my pants before stepping behind her and wrapping my arms across her chest. There’s something about the way she fits here; the way my head can sneak perfectly between her neck and shoulder to whisper in her ear.

It’s my favorite way to hold her.

“You get all of it, P. Every single bit of me. Today and tomorrow, here or in Florence or anywhere else. Heck, even in another train car filled with smoke. I’d be happier there with you than anywhere else without you. I’m all yours.” I nibble gently at her ear, breathing in the scent of her.

She smells like home.

Piper turns her face and plants a kiss in the crook of my arm before laying her head there. It makes the perfect opportunity to drag my lips down the opposite side of her neck.

Pace yourself, Newhouse.

“Is there anything else on the agenda today?” she asks. The words come out sluggish, as though she’s only eager to leave this moment if we’re heading to a bedroom next.

“We’re going to take a walk,” I reply, kicking myself for making so many damn plans.

It’s much colder in the park today than it was in late September, though the sun provides a nice cover of warmth when the wind isn’t blowing. We start at the fountain, and I turn Piper to walk backward, facing me, like she did the night we met here after work.

“Don’t tell me you have Sami waiting for me on the balcony of the bar,” Piper laughs, gesturing to the rooftop across the street.

“I don’t,” I sigh. “Turns out taking the morning off was the maximum commitment she could make. Kyle too.”

“Yeah… about that.” She looks at me from under her lashes, eyebrows raised like she doesn’t trust what I’m about to say. “Did you…set them up?”

“No, I didn’t set them up . I introduced them via text so they could help me pull off the surprise on the train today. Whatever mischief they got up to this morning before you or I arrived is beyond me.” I crack a small grin. “That said, I don’t hate the idea of them together. Sami seems like the kind of woman who could put Kyle in his place. Someone has to.”

“Agreed,” Piper replies, “though it doesn’t sound like they got off to a great start.” She shrugs, unconcerned. “Besides, we should hold off on double-dating until we get used to single-dating. I plan to single-date the hell out of you if you’re up for it.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” I reply.

I need to keep this conversation going if I want to avoid throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to my bed in the next ten minutes.

“Let’s try a first-date question, then. What makes Ms. Piper ‘Pipes’ ‘Sweet P’ Paulson tick?” The question echoes what she asked me the last time we walked in this park.

“Hmmmm.” She smiles sweetly. “Helping people. A good cup of coffee, obviously.” She raises the to-go cup she’s been carrying from our first stop. “The attention of a tall, handsome man with stunted social skills.”

“Hey! That’s my line!” I blurt, reaching forward to grab her by the waist. She squirms out of my grip so she can still face me.

“It’s true, you know,” she says. “Ever since I met you on the train, your presence has been like a drumbeat, quickly becoming a steady rhythm in the background of my life. It’s the sort of dependable consistency that frees me to go off-beat when I need to. Because I know I can slip back into the music after, and the piece will still be beautiful because you’ve been keeping time. I didn’t know how much I needed that, how much I loved it, until the thrumming was gone.”

She glances down at her feet, not wanting to dwell on the time we were apart. Her eyes meet mine as she continues.

“You keep me in line, James. You call my heart to tick in time with yours. You make me tick.”

The cold stoniness that used to live in my chest is now something vibrant, something unmistakably alive. Piper makes me tick too.

“Can I be honest with you,” Piper asks, “since we’re starting over?”

“Of course. Tell me the truth, P. Please.”

A small frog springs up in my throat. I thought she was being honest. That last bit was the most authentic exchange we’ve ever had; certainly, the most vulnerable. What else could there be?

I spot the bench we sat in previously, about three-quarters down the mile-long loop and lead us there. We sit close.

“I lied to you. In the car when we were running errands. I told you I was happy working at Fundament, that I was happy when I was with Henry. I wasn’t. I never was. Turns out I didn’t know what happiness felt like.”

I wrap my arm around Piper’s back and pull her even closer. She’s still not close enough. She reaches up to grab my hand that dangles from her shoulder.

“My turn to be honest,” I reply, holding her gaze. “Can I tell you what I wanted to do the day we first sat here?”

“What exactly was that?”

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms just like this.” I rest my chin on the top of her head and breathe in whatever magic she puts in her hair. “And then pull your legs over mine.” I scoop up her legs and drape them over my lap, forcing her to twist toward me so we’re no longer side by side but instead face to face.

“I wanted to cradle your jaw and push my fingers behind your ear.” I lift her chin gently, bringing her mouth a centimeter from mine. “So I could kiss you like this.”

My lips brush against hers slowly, tenderly. This will be the kind of kiss we shared in my car, the best first kiss I’ve ever had. The one we could’ve had on this bench if I’d found the courage. I nudge Piper’s lips open and slip my tongue in to tangle with hers, deepening as we find a rhythm.

A soft, satisfied sigh escapes her throat.

“What I really wanted,” I remove myself from her only long enough to say the words, “was for you to make a sound like that. For me to be the one who pulled it out of you.”

She adds a thought of her own before diving back into the kiss. “I’d be happy for you to hear every one of my sounds.”

My dick sends up the signal to leave, not willing to be patient for another second when she has a mouth like that. God, I love her mouth.

“How about we go… somewhere else…” Piper suggests, sensing (or feeling, who I am kidding) that we need to get somewhere private.

“Can I take you home?” I ask, immediately wishing I’d specified my home. Sami being at her place doesn’t make it “somewhere private.”

“ Please take me home,” Piper replies, grabbing my hand and yanking me up from the bench, my long legs trailing hers as she speed-walks toward the train. Her eagerness to get to the station only intensifies the situation in my pants, which is unfortunate because this Elvis costume has no give.

“I may have to find a different seat for this ride,” I joke, swinging my coat to try to cover my lower half as we near a sprint. Sitting next to her on the train, her leg pressed against mine, but not being able to touch her the way I want to? Straight torture.

“I’ll tell you where I want you for the ride, James.” Piper smirks as she says it, her innuendo heavy in the air as we dart into the third car.

This will be the longest commute of my life.