Chapter 19
RYAN
Maggie and I went to get snacks, but as soon as she saw the train food available, I realized that maybe she never should’ve been allowed on public transportation after all. Her palate was a menace.
“How about a chicken sandwich?” I asked.
Her nose wrinkled. “Do you have any idea how sick old chicken can make you?”
“Sure, but these never have time to get old. They’re actually pretty good.”
She stared at the selection through the glass display case like she’d expected to have been presented with a Michelin-star tasting menu and instead was now unsure whether she’d survive. And yet somehow, even that seemed to make her excited.
“They have pizza?”
“Yep. Is that what you want?”
“No.” She sighed, but she was still smiling. “The salad looks a little wilted too.”
My eyes slid shut. “I thought you said you were hungry.”
“I said I was peckish, not hungry, but I’m not hungry or peckish for any of this.”
“Well, this is all there is.” I finally looked at her again before pointing at the chocolate bars behind the counter. “How about one of those?”
She blinked a couple times when she realized what I was pointing at. Then a slow, wide grin spread on her lips and she nodded. “You’re right. That’s perfect. I’ll have one of those, and a bag of chips, and a cheese croissant.”
“You got it.” I placed our order, getting the chicken sandwich, chips, and a soda for myself too, but when I turned back to her, Maggie was staring at a group gathered around one of the tables.
They were laughing raucously, doing a pretty bad job of hiding the beers they’d snuck onto the train.
I chuckled, remembering the days that had been me, and leaned closer to her.
“Just don’t say anything. Don’t be that person. ”
“I wasn’t going to,” she muttered, favoring me with an offended glare before taking off toward them and falling into small talk with one of the girls in the group like she’d known her forever.
Meanwhile, I collected our order and Maggie’s face lit up when the girl offered her a beer. She accepted it with enthusiasm, taking one for each of us and shoving them under her t-shirt as we made our way back to our seats.
I arched an eyebrow as I spread our snacks out across the little table in her room. “Don’t you think that’s taking the whole rebellious thing a little too far?”
“Nah. I’m all about new experiences these days.” She tucked her legs underneath her and sat down on the bed, leaning her shoulder against the window as she cracked open her drink. “I can’t believe I’ve missed out on all this stuff so far.”
“Well, at least you’re doing it now. That’s all that matters. A few more trips and you’ll be an old hand at this.” I closed my laptop and moved it to the other side of her bed before I sat down in the same chair I’d been in before. “Do you want your croissant?”
She waved me off. “Later. For now, I’m going to enjoy the very best hops this train has to offer.”
I chuckled. “In a surprising twist of events, it’s probably not the only hops the train has to offer. I’m willing to bet you’ll find a few more groups intent on making the trip into a party if you just look.”
“Have you done that?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened with delight. “Ryan Thayer, who knew you were such a rebel?”
I laughed. After cracking open my own can, I took a sip of my beer and very quickly proceeded to learn that Maggie was a complete lightweight—and a chatterbox the second any alcohol hit her bloodstream.
I hadn’t even finished my sandwich yet when her eyes started sparkling and her words started tumbling out faster.
She couldn’t have had more than half her beer, but to anyone who hadn’t physically seen it happen, it would’ve seemed like she’d had half a six-pack. “This is the best trip I’ve ever been on. Seriously. It’s amazing. The food could be better, I think, but your sandwich actually looks pretty fresh.”
“I hate to say it, but I told you so.” I grinned and leaned back in my chair, amused by her ramblings right now.
It almost felt like she was finally relaxing, and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing.
“Their sandwiches are popular, so they never have time to just sit and get old. Also, you’ve only been on the train for a few hours.
The novelty is going to wear off soon and you’ll realize you’ve been on much better trips. ”
She shook her head hard from one side to the other. “There’s no way. What more do you want in a trip? We’ve got space to move, we can walk, we made friends, and we’ve got beer.”
“All of which you’ve also got on your father’s jet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Except for the making friends part.”
“Fair enough.”
She fell silent for two seconds, staring out the window before bringing those hazel eyes back to mine. “Do you know what my dream wedding is?”
I nearly choked on my beer. “No.”
“It’s insane, a feral, girlhood dream, but if I got to choose, it would be outside. In the woods, with a haunted church kind of vibe.” She took another sip. “It would have these huge trees around it. Moss. Ivy. Maybe some broken stained-glass windows.”
“So your dream is to get tetanus?”
She smirked. “My dream is to have a carnival instead of a reception.”
“A carnival?” I stared at her, then started laughing. “You cannot be serious. Why on God’s green earth would you want a carnival?”
“Weddings are always so boring. No matter where they are, they always follow the same sort of patterns, right? There’s speeches, some dancing, a few people drinking too much, cake, and then it’s over.”
“Well, I suppose a ceremony in a haunted forest followed by a carnival would be something different,” I conceded. “I can’t picture it, if I’m being honest, but it sounds fun.”
“Exactly.” She flashed me a wide smile. “My dress would be different too. I’d like it to be butter yellow. Something vintage with plenty of movement and my shoes would be sneakers. Comfortable ones, but I’m willing to bedazzle them to appease my mother.”
“That’s very generous.” I chuckled. “Let me guess, you don’t want a buffet or a stuffy sit-down meal either.”
“Never.” She looked at me like she was horrified at the mere suggestion. “We would eat carnival food.”
“So corn dogs, cotton candy, and funnel cake?”
“Now you’re understanding the vision.” She let out a contented sigh and glanced at the window again.
“It would be perfect. People would talk about it for years because it would actually have been fun. An event really worth remembering and talking about for reasons other than judging the centerpieces and the guest list in retrospect.”
“It would definitely be something, alright.” I wasn’t sure people wouldn’t judge everything in retrospect, but she looked so happy that I let it slide. “Where would you have this haunted carnival, also known as some people nightmares? The Hamptons?”
She snorted. “No. I hate the Hamptons.”
I laughed. “You hate the Hamptons? Why?”
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but the people ruin it.”
“Isn’t that true about most places?”
“Absolutely, but it’s worse there.”
I laughed again, honestly loving how creative and spontaneous she actually was when she started opening up. I’d forgotten that about her, how deeply fun and bubbly this girl could be. Slowly but surely, I started remembering the weeks before her debutante ball.
Just before my father had ruined everything and I’d thought I might have a shot with the girl who’d almost bitten my finger off just a few years before.
Back then, we’d all spent so much time together that for a while there, I’d been stupidly fascinated by her.
Maggie had been a splash of color in an otherwise pretty dull world.
Even as a teenager, she’d been loud when everyone around us had been careful.
She used to pull me aside for these silly little side quests while everyone else had stood around in their polished shoes, making boring small talk.
Meanwhile, Maggie and I went hunting to catch a glimpse of the deer on some or other fancy estate or to see if we could find an open door leading to a rooftop we weren’t supposed to be on.
Warning bells started pinging somewhere in the back of my head as I delved into the memories of those days. The last thing I needed was for my brain to be dragging teenaged Ryan into the conversation.
“Do you think Daniel would give me another chance?” she asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts. “If I decide to do what our parents want, I mean. Do you think he’d even still want to marry me?”
An inappropriate burn of disappointment tore through my gut, but I kept it very far away from my face. “Daniel is a good guy. He’ll give you anything you want even if it is out of sheer duty to both your parents. He’s really nice, Maggie. Genuinely.”
She sighed and looked back out the window. “I’m not sure I want nice. I know there are worse things, but that’s just not exactly a selling point.”
“What do you want?” I almost kicked myself for asking the question, but it was out before I could stop it, and besides, a very bad part of me not even so deep down inside really did want to know. “If it’s not nice, then what is it?”
She turned back to me, for once not joking as she held my gaze. “I want friendship and understanding. Passion.”
The words burrowed deep into the marrow of my bones, heat creeping through me like a wildfire that would be raging out of control very soon. I couldn’t keep sitting here while she was wearing my sweatshirt and looking at me like I was the person she wanted those things from.
If I stayed, I was going to start making terrible decisions. Finding passion would be the least of her problems, so I cleared my throat and stood up. “I need to go to bed.”
“What? Why?”
“We’ll be in Chicago by noon tomorrow. You should get some rest too.” I swiped my laptop off the bed and headed straight for the door. “Goodnight, Maggie.”
Before she could even respond, I walked away, locking my own door behind me. Because if she came in here at any point during the night, I was going to do something exceptionally stupid. God, this is a problem.
A very, very familiar problem I’d thought I’d solved ten years ago, but apparently, it hadn’t been gone. It’d only been sleeping, and now, with her back in my life, it was waking from its slumber and coming back.
With a vengeance. A thirsty, havoc-wreaking vengeance that wanted nothing more than to finally have her.