“Yes?” There was that soft smile again, and he inched a step closer to me.

“Do you think there will be a time where people will stop recognizing us from our dumb moment on the train?”

He pulled back a bit and gave me a perplexed look. “I didn’t think it was dumb.”

I shook my head. “That’s because your clothes didn’t betray you in front of the entire world.”

“That’s fair,” he said with a chuckle. “And there’s definitely a solid over-sixty demo here, so clearly we’ve got some New York News fans lurking about. They probably don’t know what Instagram is, though.”

We were so close I could feel his words landing on the sensitive part of my neck, right below my ear. I was listening to him, but I was also imagining how it would feel if his lips moved just a hair closer, until they were pressed against my skin.

“If it’s any consolation,” he continued, “I’m glad it happened. I mean, for purely selfish reasons, of course. You’ve done such a kick-ass job on the office. You’re literally a lifesaver.”

“Thank you,” I said, beaming. I was genuinely proud of how it was turning out. “It’s been fun.”

“And Perrine wouldn’t have met Lola. I’ve never seen her happier.”

I nodded. “Lola too,” I said.

“Not that I take any pleasure in what you went through on the train,” he said. “But, hey, it also means I get to dance with you tonight, so.”

I had to look down at the floor. Because his words had swooped into me and stirred everything up, and I was afraid he could see it on my face. “Well, the truth is,” I joked, “I look better in this dress than in your suit jacket.”

He laughed and relaxed against my body, and I was so consumed by that feeling that I didn’t even notice that the song had changed. And then again, minutes later, the next one played. Slowly, with each change in music, our bodies got closer and closer together, until his breath was a light wind on the nape of neck, my cheek pressed softly against the warm curve of his shoulder.

I was acutely aware of how every cell along the front of my body lit up against his, and the feel of our bodies so close pulled me back in time, to just a few months ago, when I’d slammed my hands against his chest as the train jolted. How firm and solid he’d felt, a comforting wall to land against as the world around me flipped on its axis. And now I felt it again, things suddenly shifting and changing, and yet here he was—something steady to hold on to. And it scared me just how much I didn’t want to let go.

*  *  *