If Only Read Free Page A

he says, “which is exactly why I like you. You’d never write your number on a guy’s hand.”
    I throw back my head and laugh. “Though I’ve had ample opportunity. If I told you how many guys have thrust a palm and a pen in my face, just begging for digits…”
    “No,” Griffin says, shaking his head. “They don’t. Wanna know why?”
    At first I think he’s teasing me, but his eyes narrow on mine. The corners of his mouth stay even. My laughter dwindles into silent anticipation of his answer.
    “Because they know you’d say no.”
    I squirm in my chair, wishing I could put more distance between us.
    “You’re not a Kathy.”
    “Katie,” I remind him.
    “Whatever,” he says. “You’re the commitment type. I can see it.”
    “What do you mean you can see it? Maybe I’m totally a Katie. Maybe I’m all about right now .” But I have to force the words. I want them to be true, want this year to be what it should be—a place for reinvention, for me to break free of the restraints I’ve put on myself for too long.
    My breaths grow shallow. What I wouldn’t give to text Sam this second, ask her what sort of wizardry she pulled to drop this guy in my path. “Here he is,” she’d say. “Mr. Right Now. Strike while the iron is hot!”
    But instead of striking, I opt for distance. Time to take a break.
    “I think I’m going to be off to the loo. Again.” I stand in the aisle.
    Griffin pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it out to me.
    “Your…what did you call them…digits?” he asks.
    This is my opportunity. Give him my number and prove that I can be a Katie. I can have fun for now and say “Fuck it” to worrying about what comes next, prove he doesn’t have me pegged. My hand twitches at my side as I contemplate reaching toward him. But I cross my arms over my chest instead, not able to do this one little thing to invoke change.
    He shrugs, fishing a pair of earbuds out of the same pocket and plugging them into the phone. “If I’m asleep when you get back, feel free to wake me with a number on my palm, or with your lips, whatever you deem necessary.”
    I lean in and push his shoulder hard this time, and his only response is a quick laugh before he closes his eyes and snuggles up against the window.
    Maybe I will.

Chapter Two
    I take my time getting to the toilet. That really is a fitting name for the room as there is barely anything else in it other than the aforementioned receptacle and a dollhouse-sized sink. I need to weigh my options here. First, I met a really cute guy. And he’s flirting with me. Second, I know no one in Aberdeen…except for the cute guy. Cute guy is American, funny, has good teeth—and girls doling out their numbers after nothing more than an introduction. I can work with most of this.
    The loo door says O CCUPIED , which does not bode well for my waiting because I have to pee. Now. Thankfully, I hear the sad excuse for a sink inside. Good, my wait will be short. As the lock clicks open, the train jostles enough that the bathroom’s occupant stumbles out, pinning me up against the doors that lead back into my train car.
    My face is buried in his neck and, despite his exiting the tiniest closet of a public loo, he smells good. Like, really good. Like, running-through-a-field-of-just-cut-grass, laundry-fresh-out-of-the-dryer good.
    He pushes back, his hands resting on the door on either side of me, a small laugh mingling with his exhale. “Sorry,” he says, his Midwestern accent unmistakable. Another American. “Turbulence, I guess.” His voice is deep with the slightest rasp, and I can hear his smile. When I look up, my stomach does this flippy thing that makes me think I should get into the closet loo stat. Glinting blue eyes stare back at me, and I see my dazed reflection in his irises. I should say something, right? I should stop staring and say something.
    A tremble of a laugh precedes my words. “I thought that only happened on