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“It’s not embarrassing.”
“It is when you’ve never done it before,” August blurts out, and Jane stills.
“Is that it?” she says. “You’ve never had sex with a girl before?”
August feels her face flush. “I’ve never had sex with anyone before.”
“Oh,” Jane says. “Oh.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s—”
“It’s okay,” Jane says easily. “I don’t care. I mean—I care, it just doesn’t bother me.” She traces a thumb up the inside of August’s thigh, and her mouth melts into a loose smirk when August gasps quietly. “But you have to tell me what you want.”
August watches Jane lick her bottom lip, and a thousand images flash through her mind so fast, she feels like she might black out—Jane’s short hair between her fingers, her teeth digging into the ink lines on Jane’s bicep, wet fingers, wet mouths, wet everywhere, Jane’s low voice pitched up an octave, Jane’s eyes burning up at her from the end of the bed, the insides of Jane’s knees, miles of skin shining with sweat and the light through her bedroom window. She wants Jane’s hands fisted in her bed sheets. She wants the impossible.
“I want you to touch me,” she finally makes herself say. “But we can’t.”
And the train stops. The lights go off.
For a second, August thinks she did black out, until her eyes pick out the shape of Jane squinting back at her in the dark.
“Shit,” August says. “Did it just—?”
“Yeah.”
August blinks, waiting for her vision to adjust. She’s suddenly painfully aware of herself, of Jane’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Emergency lights?”
Jane closes her eyes, mouthing along as she counts the seconds in her head. She opens them.
“I don’t think they’re coming on.”
August looks at her. Jane looks back.
“So we’re… trapped on a dark train,” August says.
“Yeah.”
“Alone.”
“Yes.”
“With no chance for anyone else to get on.”
“Correct.”
“On the bridge,” August says, more slowly. “Where no one can see us.”
She shifts, adjusting her weight on Jane’s thigh, and closes her mouth on the sound that tries to slip out at the friction.
“August.”
“No, you’re right,” August says, moving to slide Jane’s hand off her, “it’s a bad idea—”
Jane’s grip tightens.
“That is literally the opposite of what I was about to say.”
August blinks once, twice. “Really?”
