A. L. Michael - My So-Called (Love) Life

‘There would have been another in five minutes!’ she gasped.

‘But where would the fun have been in that?’

‘You just wanted to hold my hand!’ she teased as the train left the station, holding up their still intertwined fingers.

‘Aren’t I a scoundrel?’ Ollie grinned at her, standing too close in the cramped carriage. He let go of her hand, but put it around her back. ‘Just to keep you steady.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Tig said knowingly, but her chest started pounding. Stop it, you idiot. ‘What train are we on?’

‘Edgware – I’m afraid I’m off at the next stop.’

‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening,’ Tig said formally. ‘It was less terrifyingly awkward than I anticipated.’

‘Well, if that isn’t a glowing reference, I don’t know what is!’ Ollie grabbed her hand dramatically and kissed it. ‘I bid you goodnight, Tigerlily James, and look forward to our next encounter!’

Tig blushed and looked around at the other people in the carriage, who were all resolutely avoiding eye contact, but seemed to be smirking.

‘Women! You say all you want is romance, and Mister-sodding-Darcy, and the minute we give in, you freak out!’ Ollie jumped off the train onto the platform, waving. ‘Night!’

And he was gone, vaulting along the platform in long strides. Strange, strange man, Tig grinned to herself, and realised her face hurt from how much she’d smiled that evening. Which was great, but also a little sad that she was so out of practice.

So this is what dating is, she thought to herself, saying clever things and being quick and not giving anything away. She found it exhausting and exhilarating. Just like Ollie himself.

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