11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Ethan stepped onto the train just before the doors whooshed shut behind him and the rhythmic clatter of the tracks started humming beneath his feet.
His messenger bag, slung over his shoulder, held his laptop and notepad.
And nestled against his chest, peeking out from the sling wrapped across his torso, was Queenie.
All five regal pounds of her.
She lifted her tiny Chihuahua head, ears twitching like radar as she surveyed the train car, her expression unimpressed—as if she were deciding whether public transportation was beneath her. Ethan chuckled and gave her head a gentle scratch. “I know, Queenie. It’s not the private car you deserve.”
He scanned the packed train, spotting Paige toward the back, her computer open on her lap, fingers poised over the keyboard. Engrossed in her work, she didn’t notice him until he dropped onto the seat next to her.
“Hey,” he said as he shifted Queenie so she wasn’t squished between them.
Paige looked up, blinking as if surfacing from deep inside a scene. “Hey—” Her gaze drifted downward, and her brows lifted in surprise. “Who—who is this?”
Ethan grinned, unhooking one side of the sling to give Queenie the dramatic introduction she deserved.
“This is Queenie.” He tilted his head toward his dog’s tufted ears.
“Queenie, this is Paige. We’re writing a book together.
Also, she’s my girlfriend.” Then, dropping his voice, he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Not really. It’s just pretend. ”
Paige’s lips twitched as she closed her laptop. “Wouldn’t want to keep any secrets from Queenie.”
“Never,” Ethan agreed, stroking Queenie’s fluffy, chocolate fur. “She’d never forgive me.”
Queenie sniffed the air, assessing Paige’s worth, then huffed softly and curled into her sling, unconcerned. “She likes you,” Ethan declared.
“She does?”
“Yep. Otherwise, she would’ve growled. This is her ‘I don’t mind this lady’ stance.”
“Discerning and a little grumpy, huh? My kind of girl.” Paige leaned over a bit, as though she wanted to make sure the little fur-royal heard her. “I like you too, Queenie.”
“This is good,” Ethan said, smiling at Paige’s proclamation. “She’s pretty picky, but I’ve found Queenie’s an excellent judge of character.”
“Well, obviously.” Then Paige cocked her head, eyes dancing with curiosity. “Not the kind of dog I pictured you with.”
“Oh?” Ethan arched a brow. “What did you picture?”
Paige pursed her lips, considering. “A husky, maybe. A lab? One of those huge, scary Akitas?”
He scoffed. “Something more manly?”
“You said it, not me.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping like she was letting him in on a secret. “I respect the small dog, big attitude dynamic. Chihuahuas keep everyone in check. Doesn’t matter the size of the opponent. They take no prisoners. I appreciate the tenacity.”
Ethan smiled. “Me too.”
He set his bag at his feet, shifting to get comfortable on the hard plastic seat. “She was my grandparents’ dog. My grandma couldn’t take her when she moved into the memory care facility.”
Paige’s expression softened, the teasing slipping away, replaced by something quieter. Something that looked like understanding.
Ethan ran his fingers over Queenie’s tiny head, the soft rise and fall of her breath grounding him. “I take her to visit my grandma every few days.”
Paige didn’t respond right away, but she held his gaze, something flickering behind her eyes.
Pity, maybe, but also recognition. Like she was seeing a different side of him, something she hadn’t quite expected.
And for the first time, Ethan realized Paige was a lot like his stubborn little Chihuahua.
Fierce. Discerning. Maybe a little prickly on the outside, but underneath?
There was softness. Loyalty. A heart that ran deeper than she let on.
And whether or not he wanted it, she was getting under his skin.
Ethan cleared his throat, pushing aside whatever weird realization had just crept in. “So, where are we going?”
Paige adjusted the pen tucked behind her ear. Her brows drew together. “What do you mean? We’re here.” She gestured around the train car, the rattle of the tracks humming beneath them, the city flashing past the windows in a blur of steel and glass.
“Here?” He circled a finger. “Like you want to brainstorm and write on the train?”
“Yeah,” Paige replied. “The noise and movement open my mind creatively.”
“It doesn’t distract you?”
“Not at all.”
Ethan stared at her, watching the way a loose curl had slipped from behind her ear and brushed against her cheek. “You’re quite the character, Paige Moon.”
She smiled, taking this as a compliment, which it was. “Thanks.”
In the past week, they’d each written a chapter in their manuscript, swapping feedback and tweaking until they were both happy with the start of the story.
They were ready to move on to the next few chapters and should use this time to brainstorm and swap notes, but Ethan’s mind kept circling back to other things—
Meeting Paige’s ex.
Hearing about her complicated family dynamics.
And, of course, the now-infamous video of him walking straight into a street sign while supposedly lost in the throes of love.
Because the internet had done what the internet did best—taken his humiliation and catapulted it straight into viral status.
The clip had made it onto TMZ. Which, naturally, had Marsha and Kaylor positively giddy.
They’d gone into full-throttle marketing mode, getting the book’s pre-order live that same day.
At least something good had come from his head injury—book sales.
Mindlessly, he touched his forehead, which was healing and now only needed a small Band-Aid.
“Are your parents excited to meet me?” Ethan jested, making light of their run in with her ex at the hospital.
Paige winced. “I’m not sure if ‘excited’ is the word.”
“You told them I’m a complete catch, right?”
Paige shot him a flat look. “I tried to keep the information to a minimum. Honestly, I barely got home after our ER visit and my mom was already blowing up my phone. Apparently, Derek told his mom, who told my mom, and my mom was extremely offended that I was having a ‘secret affair’ without her knowledge,” Paige said, using air quotes.
“Isn’t that the definition of secret? Keeping it to yourself?”
“Well, it’s definitely not a secret now,” Paige muttered. “My mom had about five million questions.”
The train slowed to a stop, jolting slightly and pushing Paige closer to Ethan.
Her thigh pressed against his, and the sudden warmth gave his pulse a jump.
Blinking himself out of the distraction, he said, “Next time, we should watch where we’re going when we’re trying to act like we’re hopelessly in love. ”
“It’s not my fault you have a very distracting face,” Paige quipped.
Ethan put a hand to his heart. “Paige Moon, did you just give me a compliment?”
Her cheeks went rosy, and his stomach did that jittery thing again as she tried—and failed—not to smile. Their playful banter was . . . comfortable. Natural, even.
Maybe a little dangerous for his heart.
Ethan cleared his throat. “I think we should set up some guidelines,” he started, catching Paige’s attention. “For us.”
After he got lost in her eyes and sliced open his head, Ethan second-guessed himself. Paige was his fake girlfriend. Just because he wanted to kiss her didn’t mean she wanted the same. And he didn’t want to put her in a situation she wasn’t comfortable with.
“Like?” She leaned back in her seat, shifting her computer on her lap, looking curious. Maybe a little intrigued?
“We’re getting to know each other, and I don’t want to cross any lines. We should agree on some rules.”
“Like?” she prompted again.
“Like how we feel about kissing.” Quirking a brow, he gauged her reaction.
Paige pursed her lips—those lips that were entirely too distracting—and tapped a finger against them, as if giving his suggestion serious thought. “I guess we might find ourselves in a situation where a kiss could be expected.”
He forced his gaze from her mouth to her eyes. “Yeah, sometimes people kiss when they date.”
She grinned. “Shocking.”
“What about a code word? Something that would tell me if you’re okay with a kiss.”
Paige nodded. “Something random? That neither of us would usually say?” Paige’s gaze flicked around the train, looking for inspiration. “What about backpack? Turtleneck? Ham sandwich?”
Ethan arched a brow. “You want me to ask you if I can kiss you by bringing up ham sandwiches?”
Paige winced. “Okay, that sounded better in my head.”
He chuckled. “It should be something we could slip into conversation. That wouldn’t sound suspicious if someone overheard us.”
She paused, thinking. “You got any ideas?”
He tilted his head, considering, while he took in her glowing skin and curious stare. Today, she wore leggings and a tank, and her intelligent smirk. The way she looked at him, expectant, waiting—the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”
“Huh?” Paige’s head snapped back. Her eyes went wide. For a second, she said nothing, and Ethan had the sinking feeling that he’d just stepped completely over the line. The air between them shifted, heavier now, and charged.
He cleared his throat, forcing an easy shrug. “That could be our code question.”
“Oh.” Paige relaxed, clearly unaware of how easily those words had come to him. “Yeah, that could work.”
“Then you’d tell me ‘yes’ if you’re okay with me kissing you, and ‘no’ if you’re not.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good idea. That sounds natural.”
The train slowed again, shifting Paige even closer, and her gaze dipped to his mouth. A flicker of something flashed across her face, gone before he could pin it down. Would it be too soon to use their code question?
Before he could entertain the idea, a new crowd bustled into the car, filling the surrounding space. A group of teenagers stood directly in front of them, laughing and talking loudly.
Ethan settled deeper into his seat, his fingers absently stroking Queenie’s soft fur. “Alright, I think we’ve covered the basics.”
“What?” Paige mouthed, not hearing him over the noise.
He shifted closer. “The basics. The kissing.”
“What?” Still, she didn’t hear.
Ethan leaned in further, lips just beside her ear. “The kissing. We’ve got a plan now.”
Paige tilted toward him. A curl of hair brushed his cheek. Her scent twirled around him, a mix of citrus and sugar.
“Yeah, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Her voice was soft, and it sent an unexpected shiver through him, straight to his toes.
Then one teenager started talking—loudly—about his friend’s body odor, and Queenie growled. Paige let out a laugh, and they shared a grin, settling back into their seats. The intimate moment passed, even though it lingered on his skin like her whisper.
They stayed quiet, listening to the teenage banter until the train approached the next stop.
As the crowd unloaded, Paige turned to him. “Any more ideas about the clue? Any breakthroughs?”
They’d been texting back and forth about the clue and even had a late-night phone call discussing it. But so far, they hadn’t come up with anything concrete.
Ethan shook his head. “No, but I’m going to look through some old photo albums with my grandma later today. See if I can find something that sparks an idea.”
Paige’s expression softened. She tapped the top of her closed laptop. “I’d really love to meet her sometime.”
Ethan blinked. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “I mean, we’re writing a book about her love story, after all. And from everything you’ve told me, she sounds like a pretty amazing woman who’s lived an extraordinary life.”
Unexpected warmth curled in Ethan’s chest, liking the idea more than he was willing to admit. Nodding, he played it cool. After all, Paige’s suggestion was practical, considering they were writing about his grandma’s life. “Yeah. She’d like you.”
Paige’s smile was small but genuine.
The train rocked slightly, heading around a bend on the raised tracks that skimmed the city, and Ethan thought this was actually not a bad place to sit and think.
Speaking of, they should get to their manuscript.
Ethan was just about to reach down for his messenger bag to grab his notebook when Paige reached out, extending her fingers toward Queenie’s tiny head.
Oh, no. Ethan opened his mouth to warn her. Queenie wasn’t exactly friendly with strangers and was likely to sink the few teeth she had left into Paige. But before he could get a word out, Paige’s fingers grazed over his dog’s fur. And the little Chihuahua let it happen.
Ethan froze.
Queenie never let strangers pet her. Ever. She was notoriously selective. The little dog even used to bite his grandpa now and then. But now? Queenie was sitting there, letting Paige stroke her tiny head, looking almost . . . content?
His stomach did a slow flip.
Paige pulled her hand back, glancing up at Ethan. “What?”
Ethan shook his head, staring at his dog as if she’d suddenly started reciting Shakespeare.
“She likes you,” he said, bewildered.
Paige smirked. “She knows I appreciate small but mighty creatures.”
Ethan stared at Paige for a long beat, then exhaled, shaking his head. “Guess so.”
Paige smirked, and his pulse stumbled. The train lurched forward, but something else shifted inside him.
Maybe it was a good sign.
Or maybe—just maybe—he was in way deeper than he realized.