"Pardon me, miss, could you help me pronounce this word?"
Aboard a train rolling from Des Moines to Chicago, a teenage boy in a crisp white shirt, clutching an English magazine, approached a poised older woman with a shy, earnest plea.
She wore a daring low-cut tank top, her sun-kissed blonde hair swept into an elegant updo, a whisper of eyeshadow framing her captivating eyes. She was a vision—radiant and irresistible. From the moment she stepped onboard, every soul in the carriage, male and female alike, was spellbound. Some men couldn't hide their gawking, jaws slack with awe. Yet, she seemed oblivious, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside, untouched by the stir she caused. Oddly, the seats beside and across from her remained vacant—whether by chance or the sheer force of her presence, no one dared say.
Then came this boy, barely eighteen or nineteen, striding forward from a seat further back, a Spanish magazine in hand.
His name was Anirudh, a small-town kid stepping out of Iowa's tranquil hollows for the first time, bound for Chicago to crash with his childhood sweetheart Eleanor.
When he posed his question, his eyes didn't linger on the page—they wandered to her neckline. Her figure was a marvel, a sight to behold. By Anirudh's well-practiced reckoning, she was an E-cup at minimum, maybe more. The skimpy top barely contained her, revealing creamy curves that gleamed like fresh snow. From his lofty perch above, he caught a scandalous peek of crimson lace peeking out, her cleavage a breathtaking, razor-thin divide.
That alone could unravel any man's composure—never mind the flawless beauty of her face.
Stirred by his voice, she turned from the window, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. His features were striking, almost too perfect. Catching him steal a glance from her chest, a sly, knowing smile danced across her lips.
"Do you know Spanish?" she asked, her voice warm as she nodded toward the word he'd pointed out.
"Yeah, but this one's stumping me!" Anirudh replied with a quick, eager nod.
"I'm stumped too..."
"Huh?" He blinked, caught off guard.
"Turn the book around, though, and I might figure it out," she teased, her hand brushing his as she flipped the magazine upright.
Her velvet touch sent a shiver down his spine. Then her words hit home—he'd been holding it upside down. A wave of mortification crashed over him.
Goddamn it, what a rookie move. My big flirting debut, and I fumble this bad...
He longed to vanish into thin air—or, better yet, dive headfirst into that inviting crevice she so proudly displayed.
The carriage burst into laughter, amplifying his humiliation. He was halfway to fleeing, ready to nurse his wounded pride in solitude, when he felt her grip linger on his hand.
"Take a seat. I'm on my own and could use some company," she said, her smile soft as she gestured to the spot across from her.
"Oh? Is that alright? What if someone claims it?" His little ruse laid bare, he hesitated, cheeks flushing.
"No one will. I snagged all these seats," she assured him, shaking her head with a grin.
Anirudh froze. All of them? Seriously? Is she unhinged, booking four seats solo? Or just drowning in money? If she's that loaded, maybe she'd take me under her wing...
His mind spun wild tales as she gently tugged him down to sit opposite her.
"What's your name?"
"Anirudh!" he shot back, no hesitation.
"Where you from?"
"Iowa."
"What brings you to Chicago?"
"School..." Her questions flowed like a river, and he answered on instinct. Three replies in, it dawned on him—he'd come to charm her, yet she'd nearly coaxed his whole backstory out of him without a single question in return!
The grandpa was right—women are a force to reckon with. She's got me spinning.
"So, were you trying to flirt with me back there?" she asked, her tone light but piercing.
"Uh..." Anirudh stalled, her sharp pivot throwing him off balance.
He nearly dodged it, but those magnetic eyes held him captive, sparkling with mischief. Gathering his nerve, he nodded firmly. "Yeah!"
"You're an honest one," she chuckled, her laughter sending ripples through her chest. So close, it set his pulse racing. Lord, those are unreal—outshining even Aunt Amy's. I'd trade anything for a feel.
"That's what folks back home always say," he muttered, ducking his head to mask the storm brewing inside.
"Alright, honest boy, why'd you pick me to flirt with?" His bashful act after such a brazen move only fueled her amusement.
"Because you're gorgeous!" he declared, the words spilling out raw and true. If she'd been anything less, he'd have stayed in his seat!
"Ha! Alright, then—what's my best part? Give it to me straight, no vague 'everything' fluff," she pressed, her delight bubbling over.
Anirudh paused, then put on a grave, thoughtful air, studying her from head to toe—though his gaze inevitably settled on that majestic chest. She didn't shy away; she leaned into it, offering herself up to his scrutiny with a bold tilt of her shoulders.
After a lingering beat, he dropped his eyes, voice barely above a whisper. "You sure you want the truth?"
"Absolutely!"
"Can you bring your ear closer?"
She laughed—a bright, unguarded sound—unfazed by any hint of mischief. Propping her generous curves on the table, she cradled them with her arms and leaned forward, closing the gap.
That breathtaking display splayed out before him made Anirudh's throat tighten. He leaned in, her fragrance wrapping around him like a spell, and breathed into her ear, "Your chest..."
His lips grazed her earlobe in a "slip" that wasn't quite accidental.
She shot him a mock scowl, her voice a low murmur. "You're a bad one, aren't you..."
"Hey, don't they say nice guys finish last?" He flashed a roguish grin, keeping their heads close as they traded whispers across the table.
"Care to get a little worse?" She winked, a playful glint in her eye.
"What?" Anirudh's jaw dropped. Badder how?
"Like, want a touch?" she teased, her gaze turning sultry as she tossed him a look that could melt steel.
"Hell yes..." The words flew out, his heart hammering. Am I dreaming? This bombshell's coming on to me?
"You little scoundrel, keep wishing..." She burst into laughter, easing back into her seat.
"Aw, miss, you're playing me..." His handsome face crumpled as he caught on to her game.
"Heh, you really want to, don't you?" She leaned in once more, eyes dancing.
"What good's wanting if you won't let me?" He huffed, feigning defeat.
"Hand over here..."
"What for?" Suspicion crept in.
"You giving it or not?"
"Alright..." Caving to her mock sternness, he slid his right hand forward.
She grinned, snagging his hand with her left, then traced a quick pattern in his palm with her right fingertip. Leaning close, her breath warm against his ear, she whispered, "Guess what I wrote, and maybe I'll let you..."
"773... Your number? And you're Aurora?" He lifted his eyes, bold and sure.
"Oh..." Aurora's mouth fell open, a perfect circle of surprise, her enchanting eyes wide with astonishment, as if he'd just unraveled her deepest secret.