Chapter 11
Astrid
A sudden jolt threw me forward, pulling me unceremoniously out of my memories and planting me firmly back in the present as the train shuddered to a stop at Pine Heights station.
I pulled off my glasses, pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, and let out an exhausted sigh. Getting onto this train had felt dangerously close to taking an express ride straight back to the last place I ever wanted to be. To him.
Five years ago, I'd found a ticket stub left on my seat.
One impulsive reply, and a playful curiosity about the stranger who'd secretly watched me, had turned into five days of secret notes passed right here, on this very train, in this very compartment.
Those five days had gotten stuck inside me, like a bruise I kept pressing just to remember how it felt.
“Turkey head. Goofball.” I kicked the seat across from me.
“Had the audacity to play secret admirer, leaving me cryptic notes, but couldn’t muster the courage to actually show his dumb face.
” Another kick. “He’s probably bald now.
” Another kick. “Or stuck with a girlfriend who laughs like a hyena.” Kick again, just because.
The train rounded the bend, slowly curving its way back to Orange Falls.
Any desire I'd had to sit and enjoy the scenery, or even spend another second here vanished instantly. I pushed myself up with an irritated stomp and headed straight for the guard’s compartment door.
It was technically off-limits, but rules had always felt like cake frosting on a birthday cake, impossible to resist sneaking a taste when no one was looking.
The door was locked from the outside.
I knocked once, expecting whoever was on the other side to open, but no one did.
I knocked again, louder this time, then hesitated, picturing the conductor standing there with a disapproving eyebrow raised.
Deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble, I turned to leave.
And that’s when I heard it—the faint clank of a latch sliding open.
Warm brown eyes appeared through the narrow gap, soft like sunlight slipping through drawn curtains, just before the door opened fully. My breath caught in my throat as a tall figure stepped into view, filling the entire doorway.
God, no.
Iceberg!
He had to be as startled as I was. Surprise flickered through his eyes too fast for anyone else to catch, but I caught it. Worse, he caught me catching it.
What in the sunburned hell was he doing on this train?
Wait—dumb question. Trains are public transport, Astrid. Anyone can ride one.
Kelly’s words echoed in my head. That nagging feeling she’d seen him somewhere before. Which left me with only one possible conclusion.
He was from Orange Falls.
Unlucky me.
“Lucky me.” His voice cut easily through the train’s rattling, calm, clear, and irritatingly casual.
The irony! The universe woke up today craving a good laugh, and surprise, surprise, I was the punchline.
“Funny, I was just about to say the exact opposite,” I shot back with a tight smile.
“First an asshole, then a dick.” He leaned forward casually, resting one hand against the doorframe.
The camera shifted slightly with his movement, its lens tilting toward me as if even it couldn't resist eavesdropping. “Remind me, who’s the unlucky one here? Or am I about to witness another dose of your colorful vocabulary?”
Anger pricked my skin. It’s not like I went around casually calling R-rated words. It was a slip, pure impulse, terrible timing, and worst of all, it had to land right on the one person currently topping my most annoying people alive list.
“You deserved it for insulting my froggy tone.” He could’ve just asked us to mute our phones and left it there, but no, he had to launch an all-out war against mine as if that tiny croak had personally offended him.
“And if you’re about to lecture me that frogs are just animals and you’re a human with divine rights to insult them,” I held up a hand, cutting him off before he could speak, “don’t bother. I can already see that argument sitting right on the tip of your tong—”
“I know the difference,” he interrupted smoothly. “One croaks, and the other…” He paused, letting a slow, maddening smirk settle into place. “Well, the other evolved into a talking frog.”
A talking what?
Did I mishear him?
He’d just demoted me from fully functioning human to something hopping around on a lily pad. Not that frogs weren't adorable. They are great amphibians, but I wasn't exactly convinced this counted as a promotion.
“ Ribbit got your tongue?” His mouth tilted into a slow smile, enjoying my stunned silence.
For a brief moment, I entertained the thought of kicking him somewhere that would feel deeply rewarding, but unfortunately, I was a law-abiding citizen. Well, most of the time.
“You better sleep with one eye open, you absolute pain in the ass, because I'm going to haunt you for this.
Ghost chains clanking, windows rattling, maybe even a chilly wind—I haven't decided on the details yet.” I spun on my heel and marched off, determined not to give him a single additional second of my attention.
He'd already taken far more than he deserved.
I didn’t lose my cool easily. Wedding planners couldn’t afford to. We survived on patience. Bridezillas, family dramas, last-minute flower emergencies, I could handle those in my sleep. But him? He was chipping away at that patience.
I stared out the window, hoping the passing scenery might distract me. It didn't. If anything, watching the endless fields crawl by made the ten remaining minutes to Orange Falls feel like ten years.
Craving fresh air and desperate to escape this suffocating compartment, I stood up. Because the universe hated me, that was exactly when he opened the door and strolled in.
I swallowed a groan, half irritation and half you've-got-to-be-kidding-me.
I sank back onto my seat but immediately thought better of it. Why give him the satisfaction? Nope, not happening. I stood up, determined to stand my ground.
Unfortunately, he seemed to have had the same realization.
Same second, same spot, same stubborn refusal to budge.
We moved toward each other like magnets, except his annoyingly long legs ate up the distance twice as fast, landing me directly nose-to-chest—or more accurately, nose-to-unfairly-solid-chest—crammed into the world's tiniest space by the footboard door.
Seriously?
Find someone else to mess with.
I stepped left. So did he. I stepped right. Surprise, surprise, there he was again, perfectly in sync. One more step to the right, and I'd be off the train.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
His face was infuriatingly calm. “I could ask you the same.”
“It’s that awkward hallway shuffle thing. Both our brains are malfunctioning at the exact same second. Not my fault,” I pointed out. “Fine, listen carefully. I’ll move left, you stay exactly where you are.”
He raised an eyebrow, lips pressing tight as if desperately holding back a laugh, but nodded obediently.
“The second I’m clear, you—”
The train jolted, and not the gentle kind you could politely ignore. This was the aggressive kind, tossing me sideways like a rag doll.
My foot slipped, ankle twisting sharply as everything tilted.
My hands shot out, fingers grasping desperately for something solid.
One hand found cold metal, barely holding on, while the other flailed, finding nothing until suddenly, warmth caught my hand.
Firm, steady, human warmth. Fingers closing around mine strongly.
My pulse roared so loudly in my ears it drowned out everything but the wind and his irritatingly calm voice. “Hanging in there?”
Jerk.
He looked unfairly relaxed, the kind of calm no one should have while holding another person's fate—specifically mine—in their hands.
“P…pull me up,” I breathed shakily.
But he didn’t move. Not an inch.
Instead, that calm mask of his cracked open, replaced by a slow, devastating smile. It screamed trouble.
“Pain in the ass?”
“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “Don’t you dare go there.”
“Hmm, tempting. This might just be revenge served deliciously fresh.”
Revenge?
I was dangling off a moving train, asshole, not comfortably sipping a cappuccino in some cozy café.
“There's a tunnel coming up in exactly..” He glanced casually outside. “Two minutes. You know, if keeping your skull intact is important to you.”
My eyes widened, shooting him an I don’t believe you look, but I still tilted my head just to be sure.
Holy banana pants!
The tunnel rushed toward us, faster than I was emotionally prepared to deal with.
My throat dried up instantly. Surviving this seemed highly unlikely, at least until I glanced upward and reluctantly accepted that the irritating devil above me, who was clearly enjoying this far too much, was my only shot at making it out alive.
Time to bargain with the devil.
“I take it back,” I blurted out, but his expression made it painfully clear I needed to try harder.
You're so going to get it once I'm safely back on this train.
I flashed him the sweetest smile I could muster. “I promise never to call you an asshole, dick, or any other insult ever again. Now, please, pull me up!” I stole another glance at the tunnel.
Closer. Way too close.
“Thirty seconds.”
My heart nearly stopped. Seriously? What else did he want?
“I’ll even change my frog tone.” I offered desperately. Clearly, he had some unresolved issues with innocent amphibians.
“Twenty-nine.”
“I-I’ll name my firstborn after you. I still don't actually know your name, but trust me, I'll find out!”
“Not really feeling the sincerity.”
“Asshole! Which part of me hanging off a speeding train screamed insincere to you? I swear, if I survive this, my phone notification tones will be your screams—”
He yanked me up in one swift motion. I stumbled forward, off-balance, and my hands grabbed desperately onto the nearest solid object, which happened to be his arm.
And the darkness swallowed us.
I was breathing hard. His hand stayed wrapped firmly around mine, steady and gentle even, his thumb softly stroking my hand as if trying to erase the panic trembling through me.
My fingers tightened instinctively around his, holding on unwillingly, or maybe unable to let go.
The space between us disappeared entirely, if there had even been a gap to begin with.
Light filled the compartment again.
The first thing I saw were his eyes. Warm brown, intense, and deep enough to drown in. I forgot I was supposed to look away.
The sharp honk of the train snapped me out of whatever fog I'd fallen into. I stepped back quickly, realizing far too late and embarrassingly, that my hand was still firmly wrapped around his.
I dropped it immediately.
“A thank you wouldn’t kill you,” he pointed out, like he hadn't just casually waited until the last possible second to save me from becoming tunnel graffiti.
I offered him my sweetest smile. “Let me show you how thankful I am.”
I stomped down hard on his foot, wishing I'd worn high heels. A nice spiky one would’ve left a satisfying mark.
He sucked in a sharp breath, clearly caught off guard, fists clenching at his sides like he'd accidentally grabbed an electric fence.
But annoyingly, he still managed to pull off a look that said it hadn't hurt at all.
Flashing my most triumphant smile, I spun and walked away. If only I'd worn my hair down. This moment called for a dramatic hair flip.