by Mia Hoddell
“Alaya, I want you to get off the train and come home straight away,” my mum demanded, pulling me from my admirations.
“That was the point of the emergency stop.”
The guy grinned at me and the train juddered to a halt. The brakes released a hiss of air and then a rush of humid wind flooded the carriage as the doors opened.
I smiled back, only to find he no longer watched me. He twisted his head over his shoulder, looking to the entrance of our carriage where people started to file down the aisle. Instantaneously, he shifted to the outside seat, dumping a rucksack on to the chair he’d vacated.
“This is not a joking matter!” my mum shrieked. Had I still been in the UK her words would have affected me. However, knowing the English Channel and a few hundred miles separated us made me feel unstoppable. Their reaction brought nothing but pleasure because it meant I’d followed my heart. I wasn’t allowing myself to be controlled.
It amazed me how a bit of distance could make everything so much easier.
“All right, Mum. I’ll get off at this station and book the first train home.”
“Really?”
I threw my gaze to the ceiling at the surprise in her voice. “No, of course not. I’m staying in France and I’m seeing this through. I’m sorry you don’t like my decision, but I’ve been planning this for months … years even. I gave you plenty of time to come to terms with me leaving.”
“But—”
“No buts, Dad. If you hadn’t noticed there’s nothing you can do. I’ve explained how I never intended to stay in England plenty of times; it’s not my fault you didn’t take me seriously. This is a good thing. It’s right for me, and it’s going to make me happy.” I paused and pinched the bridge of my nose in anticipation of his reaction.
“Okay.” A defeated sigh came from the other end of the phone, making me snap my eyes open in shock.
“Wait what?”
“You’re right. This is your life and if this is what it takes to make you happy then okay.”
It wasn’t the response I expected, and neither did my mum by her sharp intake of breath.
“Thank you. I’ll keep in contact as much as possible, although I have to go now. This is probably costing you a fortune anyway. I love you both.” I had no idea whether I’d spoken the truth, yet it sounded like a plausible excuse. I hung up the phone and dropped it into my bag. At least they were starting to accept it all.
“Should I brace myself, or do you think we’ll get to the end of this journey in one piece?”
I squealed and twisted in my seat to confront the deep, rich voice coming from beside me. I hadn’t even felt anyone sit down.
CHAPTER THREE
Cole
I watched the panic in her eyes extinguish and her hand lower from her chest. The action caused a citrusy scent to hit me. She’d spun quicker than I thought possible, her hand flying over her heart as if it was the only thing keeping the organ in her chest. And I kept my attention on her hand, not her pert breasts only covered by the flimsy, dirty pink top she wore … okay, I may have caught a glimpse.
When I drew my gaze back to her face with a chuckle, she regarded me with suspicion. Her parted lips closed into a tight line and her wide eyes narrowed into slits.
“So, do you think I’m going to be safe?” I pressed, when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.
She closed her eyes and took a breath. I used it as an excuse to allow my focus to wander over her body again. She had deep red hair—dyed almost wine coloured—tied loosely into a messy bun. A few tendrils escaped the hair tie’s clutches and hung delicately around her olive-skinned, heart-shaped face to frame it. Her deep pink lips were full and matched the natural blush to her cheeks.
Travelling lower, I studied her petite frame. She was small, almost pocket-sized, yet every item of clothing fit her perfectly. The dark, navy jeans hugged her thighs and tiny waist, while the loose-fitting top did nothing to hide her dainty figure.
“If you stop gawping at my chest, I may let you survive.”
I snapped my gaze back to hers with a sheepish expression at being caught, and what I saw knocked the breath from my lungs. From across the carriage her eyes appeared grey, though up close and in the sunlight they appeared almost artic blue with flecks of silver.
I chuckled in relief at the teasing shining in them.
“You also have some drool you may want to wipe away.” She pointed to the corner of my mouth, giving me a glimpse of her sky blue fingernails.
“I don’t.” Now I knew she was messing with me.
She shrugged and stared out of the window once more. “Suit yourself.”
Quickly raising my hand to my mouth, I swiped my thumb across both corners. As it came back dry both times I frowned at the offending digit.
“I thought you didn’t believe me.”
Fuck. I didn’t think she was watching, but she challenged me with her eyebrow raised. The sunlight illuminated her hair in an auburn halo and her pouty lips curved up into a smirk.
“You’re pretty, so I figured I’d better check.”
She shook her head, peering up at me through her eyelashes. “Not going to work, Hazel.”
“First of all, Hazel? And secondly, you can’t take a compliment?”
“I can take a compliment, just not from random strangers on a train who decide to steal the seat next to me.”
“Better me than him, right?” I tilted my head back over my shoulder to where a man with a bulging stomach and slicked back hair picked at his nose as he read the paper. Unshaven and unwashed, he’d made a beeline for the girl as soon as he stepped into the carriage. I’d acted on impulse when I moved across the seats to put a stop to his advances.
“What’s it got to do with him?” Her nose bunched up as she took in the guy’s appearance. “And you could be a murderer for all I know, so who’s to say you’re an improvement? Maybe you’re using your good looks and ‘compliments’,” she air quoted, “to lull me into a false sense of security, Hazel.”
I laughed, despite her comment hitting a little too close to home. She didn’t know how close to the truth she was.
CHAPTER FOUR
Alaya
“Okay, what’s with the name?” It surprised me how well he took the joke. Not many people seemed to understand my sense of humour.
“Your eyes, they’re hazel,” I stated, as if it was obvious, and my lips quirked at my thoughts. “Why? Would you rather over-confident-creepy-guy-who-can’t-stop-his-eyes-from-wandering?”
Like I predicted, his attention dropped to my chest once more. I didn’t have the most impressive breasts at a C cup, but they fit my body size. At five foot one I’d have looked ridiculous with double Ds.
“I think that one suits you better,” I said to draw his gaze back to my face.
“How about Cole?”
“Why would I call you that?” I frowned and my mouth twisted in confusion.
“Maybe because it’s my name? Cole Ashford.”
“Again, why would that make me call you it?”
He shook his head in despair. “I’m beginning to think I made a mistake trying to save you. You’re not going to make my life easy, are you?”
I clutched my hands to my chest, giving him my best dreamy-eyed swoon. “Aww, you were trying to save me. You’re so sweet! And for the record, no, I’m not going to make your life easy. But hey,” I shrugged, “it was your choice. You could always save me by boxing him against the window and leaving me in peace.”
“Oh really? Maybe I’ll just go to the toilet instead and leave you to fend for yourself.” He kicked one leg out into the aisle, moving to stand. When his body shifted, it gave me another glimpse of the greasy-haired man who watched us from the corner of his eye and reached for his bag, as if ready to pounce as soon as Hazel … uh, Cole moved.
Throwing away all self-respect, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “No!”
He sniggered and collapsed back a
gainst the seat with a smirk. “So you do need saving.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re cruel.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know me, remember? Don’t sound so surprised.”
My jaw dropped at his words and my gaze shifted nervously around the carriage. Maybe I was better off taking my chances with the other guy. I swallowed hard.
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
“Would you prefer it if I called you Ice Queen or Gingernut instead? Because I didn’t think those would go over as well.”
Glowering at him for flipping my line back around on me, I folded my arms across my chest. I refused to rise to his teasing and ask why those names. Gingernut obviously came from the way my hair changed colour in the sun. However, Ice Queen could have been because of a number of things.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to give me your name,” he prompted when I didn’t respond.
“You could always not talk to me. Problem solved.”
“Sweetheart it is.”
* * *
“I take it your folks aren’t too happy about whatever it is you’re doing?”
I dragged my gaze from my eReader to find Cole studying me curiously. After the teasing over names I plugged in my headphones and tuned him out. I’d downloaded a few hundred free books before my trip, and I planned on finishing at least one on the train.
Lowering my head, I returned to my book and muttered, “Why do you want to know?”
I jumped at his touch when his hand grazed my chin. Taking it between his thumb and forefinger, Cole pulled my face up to look at him. When our eyes met, his were still light and full of humour. “Sweetheart, we have at least another twelve hours on this train together. It’ll go by a lot quicker, and with a lot less pain, if you play ball.”
“If I’m to play ball, you’re going to have to stop calling me sweetheart, or there will be another type of pain for a different type of balls.”
He tipped my head to the side and leaned in so his lips were right at my ear. His breath swept over my neck, raising the tiny hairs there. Lowering his voice to a husky rasp he whispered, “You can play with my balls anytime, all you have to do is ask … sweetheart.”
His dulcet tone combined with his words disarmed me, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. When he dropped his hand and returned to his side of the chairs it took me a moment to compose myself. They shouldn’t have, yet his words sent a spark of fire through me, heating me to the core. The air-con suddenly felt as if it wasn’t working as I sweltered in my seat.
“You all right, Gingernut?” he chuckled, and the sound should have been illegal. Thick and rich like honey it melted me a little more. He even managed to make the ridiculous nickname sound sexy.
I slammed the armrest down between us. The crash caused a few curious stares, which only added to my flustered demeanour. I’d never had a guy be so open … not one I just met anyway.
“This.” I swallowed hard and pointed at the barrier. “This stays here. You don’t cross it.”
He held up his hands, feigning surrender though his eyes darkened evilly. The expression made me wary immediately, warning me he intended to say something else I wouldn’t like.
“Bet I can change your mind.”
“Bet I can have you doubled over in the aisle and clutching at your precious balls before you can change my mind,” I countered, gathering my wits once more.
“Touché. But for the record … not what I was thinking.”
“Oookay, time for a change of topic.”
His expression transformed into a mask of innocence. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who brought up balls. I asked a perfectly legitimate question and you shot me down.”
“What was your question again?”
“Why you’re here.”
“No it wasn’t. You asked if my parents were happy about me being here, and considering you already knew the answer from eavesdropping on my conversation, I didn’t need to respond.”
“All right, smartass. Why aren’t they pleased about it? And what is ‘it’?”
“Can I tell you my name instead?”
He shook his head with a smirk. “Nope, you only get one chance at a nickname and you’re too late to reverse the process. I want to know what you’re doing now.”
I sighed, giving myself a moment to come up with an answer. Cole waited, watching me silently as I sucked the air back in.
“I’m freeing myself. I want excitement and adventure so I packed up and left everything behind.”
His eyes widened and for a full minute he didn’t reply, stumped by my openness. In all honesty, I hadn’t been intending to reveal so much. However, his flirtation still had my brain scrambling for a way to return to a neutral subject and this happened to be the first thing it latched on to.
“What about you? Why are you on this train? You’re obviously from England if your London accent is to be believed,” I asked, not wanting to give him time to judge me out loud.
“I’m learning to live again.”
Both locked in a thoughtful silence, we considered each other’s words. They were surprisingly similar and he piqued my curiosity. I couldn’t help but wonder if his reasons were similar to mine. “Why again? Why weren’t you living before?”
“You don’t need to know that, sweetheart. You’d be reaching for the emergency stop button again if I answered that question.”
In a second all of the teasing and rapport we’d built up dissolved. A shiver raced down my spine at the undercurrent to his words.
Who is this guy and how can he change so drastically?
“Oh, right. Forget I asked then.” I didn’t mean it. A part of me itched to question and drag the answers from him, yet he’d already begun retreating from me. I could see it in his eyes. For that reason I let it go. There were still hours left of our journey and I didn’t need to piss him off so soon into our travels. If I had to sit next to him, I wanted the teasing guy. Even if he may have been bad for my heart because of another reason, I still preferred it.
“Why don’t your parents agree with your trip?” he said eventually.
“They think I should have gone to university, got a degree, and found myself a respectable job. They think being secure is the key to happiness.”
“And you don’t?”
I cast him a sidelong glance, wondering how much I should tell him. “No. I believe following my heart will make me happy. I want as many adventures as possible, I want to be free of the rat race, and I want to live by my own rules. I want to move around as much as possible, see the world, and not settle for anything less than my heart’s desires.”
Heat prickled at my cheeks. I’d sat through all of his sex jokes without blushing once, but talking about my dreams lit my face up like a Christmas tree.
“Sorry, I’m babbling. It probably sounds stupid … everyone thinks I am so you can say so. It won’t be anything I haven’t heard before.”
His nose scrunched up, his brow furrowing and his mouth twisting in confusion. “Why would they say you’re stupid?”
“Apparently the life I’m striving for is impossible without a huge amount of money. They all told me I need to settle and compromise … that I can’t have what I want.” I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I am stupid, but you don’t know until you try, right? If I stayed home I’d be married off before twenty-five, have kids before thirty, and on my way to an early divorce when I realised the guy I’d married was only a companion to fill the void of what I was missing out on.”
I waited for him to agree with everyone I left back in the UK.
“I don’t think you’re stupid at all. A lot of people settle and end up unhappy. It’s rare to meet someone who actually gives up everything to go after what they truly want.”
For some reason his agreement only made me blush more and I bowed my head. I’d divulged too much information. It was too personal. If he combined it with looking into my eyes he’d see right into my soul. He would
see how much my trip meant and that wasn’t something I wanted him to know.
“Can I ask you something? I’m not questioning your decision, just curious.”
“I think it’s a bit late to ask my permission to question me.”
He chuckled again, the sound forcing me to stare at him. He exuded a rugged beauty, and when he smiled his face brightened. The gesture seemed uneasy, though; his mouth trembling faintly at the corners as if the expression was new to him. It wasn’t something you’d notice unless you were focused on him. And the fact he found me genuinely funny not only astounded me, but also sent a warm, fuzzy feeling through my veins.
“Aren’t you worried about money, a roof over your head, or where your next meal will come from?”
I shook my head, an idea forming. For some unknown reason I wanted to put a stop to the small tremor. “Where would the fun in that be? And anyway, if I’m really stuck I could always become a stripper.”
His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped open so I could see all the way to the back of his throat. His cheeks both paled and flushed; something I didn’t think possible. When his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, he managed to pull his face back together. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I picked up my eReader again to leave him to stew. I’d just flicked the device on when his hand rested on top of my wrist. Strong and calloused, his thumb grazed the back of my hand. A spike of electricity pulsed through me, causing me to gasp.
“You’re not meant to cross the line,” I whispered, my voice embarrassingly hoarse. I kept my focus locked on the layer of fine hair coating his arm and the leather surfer bracelets wrapped around his wrist. It meant when he lifted his hand to my cheek I saw every movement. Drawing my lips into my mouth, I attempted to bring some moisture back to them.
