Sparked (city2city: Hollywood) Read Free Page B

matter how much contortion it required, Ryan was sitting in that seat.  
    He paused in the aisle, wondering where to stuff his duffle. The overhead racks were completely full, and the closeness of the rows of seats meant there would be little to no legroom, either. He’d have to hold the thing on his lap, he supposed, and bit back a sigh. At least he wouldn’t need to stand for the next hour. “Is that seat taken?” he asked, directing his question to the down-bent head belonging to his would-be seat partner.  
    The head lifted, and all thoughts of travel fatigue and dumb brothers fled—along with his ability to draw air into his lungs.  
    She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And that included the time he and Jon had met Eliza Dushku following the Buffy panel at Comic-Con three years ago.  
    He was staring. He knew he was staring, and that it was beyond rude, but it was impossible not to stare. His face started to heat as he tried to remember how to breathe.  
    And then he saw her cheeks turn rosy under his regard, and oxygen simply wasn’t going to happen. Like, at all . Her oval face was delicate, feminine—cute nose, sleekly arched brows, and tip-tilted eyes of rich dark brown. Soft-looking black hair fell from beneath her knit ivory cap over the shoulders of her purple coat, but even under the bulk of her winter wear, Ryan could tell that she was small. Just a small, so-much-tinier-than-him female who was so pretty it hurt to look at her.
    Oh, God. He wasn’t going to be able to squeeze past her into the empty spot without shoving his butt in her face.
    Some of his panic must have shown, because, with a faint smile pulling at her full, perfect lips, she scooted over to sit against the wall of the train.  
    He would never know where he found the courage, but, after practically falling into the seat she had vacated and settling his bag in the aisle next to him—this was the last seat of the last car of the train, after all, so he didn’t have to worry about blocking anyone walking about—he turned to her and said, “Hi.”
    Her smile widened. “Hullo.”  
    The British accent was so much cuter on her than on the train conductor.
    Praying his palms weren’t sweaty, he held out a hand. “I’m Ryan.”
    The hand she slid into his was soft, slim, and cool to the touch. “Sadie.” Her nails were painted a deep purple, several shades darker than her coat. “You’re American?”
    His nod was jerky as he reluctantly released her, fingers curling into a fist as if he could trap the feel of her inside it. “You’re…not?” Too late, he realized he’d apparently lost his ability to converse like a normal person and cringed. He should never have said hello to her in the first place.  
    Luckily, she laughed, and oh, dude, she had the best laugh. It made the back of his neck prickle, but in a good way, almost like she’d raked those purple nails of hers over that very spot.  
    Her dark eyes gleamed up at him. “English, born and bred. Though sometimes people get confused.” One hand fluttered in the direction of her face, and he figured she was referring to the fact that her features and coloring very clearly marked her as having East Asian heritage. “Are you a student?”
    A good guess on her part, given where they’d boarded the train. “I am, but not here. My brother Jon is in his last year at Cambridge.”  
    “You’re visiting him for the holidays, then.”
    “That was the plan,” he muttered before he could censor himself. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Jon, not when he had somehow managed to capture the attention of the most beautiful creature in the world. “What about you? Are you at Cambridge?”
    She shook her head. “I’m an…actress.” Her words were hesitant but proud. “I was visiting my brother, too,” she explained quickly. “He’s in the law program and couldn’t come home for Christmas, so my parents had me deliver gifts to him