The silence between me and Ezra on the train is strained, a little awkward—but not necessarily in a bad way. I can tell that we’re both just so excited to be next to each other, to have the chance to speak, and that we both have so much that we want to say, but we’re waiting for the moment we can finally be alone. He takes my hand, intertwining our fingers and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Is this okay?” he asks. I nod, biting back a smile. “Yeah. This is okay.”
