Tangled in You

 

Tangled in You

Ethan never believed in fate—until the day he got caught in her hair.

It happened on the subway, of all places. He had been standing near the door, headphones in, minding his own business, when the train jolted to a stop. In the shuffle of bodies, something soft brushed against his arm. Then, a sudden, gentle tug.

He turned his head—and found himself staring at the longest, silkiest brown hair he had ever seen.

It took him a second to realize what had happened. The strap of his backpack had somehow snagged a strand of the girl’s hair, and now, as she turned to face him, wide-eyed, he felt his heart drop straight into his stomach.

“Oh, no—” he started, fumbling to unhook it, but she let out a quiet laugh.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice smooth, amused. “This isn’t the worst thing my hair has been caught in.”

Despite himself, Ethan chuckled. “Yeah?”

She nodded, reaching up to gently untangle it herself. “Headphones, car doors, zippers, you name it.” She freed the strand effortlessly, then smoothed her hair back into place.

The train lurched forward again, and for the first time, Ethan found himself staring at her—not just at her hair, but at her. She had warm, dark eyes, a soft smile that made his chest tighten.

“I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Lena,” she replied.

He hesitated for only a second before saying, “I think your hair just saved my morning.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “How’s that?”

“Well, I was just on my way to a mind-numbing meeting,” he admitted. “But now I’m thinking about how I almost became permanently attached to the prettiest girl on the subway.”

She laughed, a little surprised, but not displeased. “Smooth.”

The train slowed as they approached the next stop. He had two choices—step off and go about his day, or take a chance.

“Since fate literally tied us together,” Ethan said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “maybe I should get your number before I get caught in your hair again?”

Lena tilted her head, pretending to consider. Then, with a grin, she reached into her bag, pulled out a pen, and took his hand.

“Careful,” she teased as she wrote down her number. “If you play with fate too much, you might end up tangled in me for good.”

Ethan looked down at the numbers on his palm, then back at her, feeling his heart race.

“I think I’d be okay with that.”