I chuckle and you squeeze my hand, your engagement ring sparkling on your finger, looking at me with nothing but love in your eyes. We're being asked for the millionth time how we met. You usually get annoyed with repetition, but not with this story. This story, you'd tell a million times and then a million times again, with a smile in your eyes every time you tell it.

It's actually a great story. A wonderful story. One of those New York City stories that nobody believes. It involves a party in Brooklyn, a subway detour, rain, and a little bit of fate.

You turn to me and smile, you want me to tell it. You love it when I tell it because then you can chime in and comment when you think I'm leaving something out. But, we both know I never leave anything out. You just like the color commentary. People always think we made it up, and that it can't have happened the way it did. That we really concocted it to cover up the fact that we met online, or had a blind date situation. It's ok though, I never try to convince them otherwise. The people who matter, the people closest to us, they know what really happened.

I can see more eyes turn to look at me as I begin the story. Its ok, I love this story.

I start the same way every time: I was running late for a housewarming party in Brooklyn. My rehearsals ran long and then I had no idea what to wear. Story of my life.

I go on to give them the shorter version the quick, cute, "party version", smiling as they look at the two of us dreamily, not believing the luck we had. You squeeze my hand and kiss my shoulder and smile into me. I pat your leg and stand up to leave you to embellish where you will, thinking about our story all the way to the bathroom. When I get there I check my makeup and give myself some time to breathe, to think about us, to think about how lucky I was when I was running late that day. The non-edited story, the full, long, twisting story is the stuff dreams are made of. Our story is epic, my love.

Because I was running late that day I picked up some flowers on the way home from rehearsal from the bodega around the corner, I hadn't had any time to pick up anything more formal. Plus, who doesn't love flowers? After one of the fastest showers of my life and the first clean outfit I could find, I was out the door. My luck that night began the moment I stepped on the subway platform because the train had just pulled up. I slipped through the doors and grabbed a rail, sticking my iPod buds in my ear as we traveled along.

The train made it to Brooklyn in relative quickness, considering. But, of course, there was a service delay and detour for the next leg of my journey. Of course. Reading the bulletins posted all over the station, I had sort of figured out what I needed to do. Thankfully, there was a MTA worker explaining it to some tourists close by. (When you tell this story, you say that I hadn't really figured it out, I just listened closely to the guy.) I did though. I like the subway. I used to like taking the subway and seeing where it led me and if I could make it back in one piece when I first got here. You and I both know I'm the queen of the subway.

So, I started patiently waiting for the next train that would take me two stops over, where I'd have to get out, cross over to the other side, catch another train that would take me another three stops, get out, find a shuttle that would drive over to the original line I was supposed to take and take me the last two. It was pretty ridiculous. I started playing with my iPod while I was waiting, needing something to calm my nerves because I was already annoyed at myself for running late. But, at that moment the battery died. Because of course it did. I turned my head to stick my iPod back in my bag, muttering under my breath.

And, that's when I saw you.

You didn't see me at first. You were down the platform a bit, in earshot but not close enough to talk to comfortably. You were staring at your shoes with a frown on your face, probably trying to figure out if they were the right shoes for the night. There was a bottle of wine in your hand, and you were fidgety. I watched you for a few moments, unable to look away. You kept looking towards the tunnels to see if there was a train coming, or back at your shoes, or you'd run your hand through your gorgeous hair. I was lost right then, in that moment.

I was broken out of my trance when someone came up to tap me on the shoulder to ask for clarification on the directions for the delay. I spit out what I had heard the MTA employee say to the group of tourists as quickly as possible. After a quick thank you, the woman walked away and I could feel the back of my neck tingling. I turned my head and you were there, looking at me. You looked surprised, like a deer in the headlights, like you'd been caught, so I gave you a small smile, trying to contain the fireworks in my chest when your eyes met mine.

You didn't say anything, just sort of stood there taking everything in. I took a moment to flash my eyes down your body, admiring what I saw, before breaking the silence and telling you that I had overheard the MTA guy tell a group of tourists the same thing so it should be right. You smiled and you hoped so, too, before turning around and facing the tracks again. I admired that view too, before sidling a little bit closer to you on the platform. (You like to tell everyone that I was majorly checking you out and making eyes at you.) Everyone always laughs, but I was just admiring what I saw. I love the human body, the form, the lines and curves, I look at everyone. I find it fascinating.

You turned around again, quickly, and I was still looking in your direction. Now it was my turn to be embarrassed, so I ducked my head. You gave me a gentle smile and complimented the flowers in my hands, telling me they were pretty. I looked down at them before looking back up to you and replying that they were for a friend. You told me my friend was lucky, and that's when the train pulled up. We both entered through the same door, you chose a seat right next to the door and I grabbed the railing in the middle of the car. We started moving, and you didn't say anything else to me, but I knew your eyes were on me. I knew where you were, like my body was tuned into your movements. We made eye contact a couple of times, with bashful smiles, but nothing else. Generally, talking to people on the subway doesn't go over so well for me.

As we hurtled through the darkness I hoped that you were going as far as I was on this detour. I wanted to see you again, but I didn't know how to ask you for your number in a non-creepy, subway stalker kind of way. So, instead I stood there mentally banging my head against the metal pole in my hands. When we made it to the first change over, the train was already on the other side of the platform. Like good New Yorkers we ran up and over, hoping that we'd make it before the doors slid closed. I was faster, and hopped through the doors just as they began closing, sticking my arm out gallantly so they'd pop back open. You hopped in and gave me a breathless thank you, before standing next to me at the pole. You smiled at me and commented that you were wearing the wrong shoes for this type of excitement. I looked down and had to agree, but told you how much I liked them and how cute they were anyway. (You always say that I opened the door, literally and figuratively because we didn't stop talking after that.) We chatted about the subway, how we both hate coming into Brooklyn, how at least in Manhattan you can hoof it or take a cab or the bus.

Our conversation carried us all the way through the three stops on the subway, and up out onto the street where the shuttle would take us over to the other line. We ended up towards the back of the crowded line and decided to split a cab, because we were both going in the same direction. (When you tell it, you explain with a smile that at this point we still both have no idea that we're going to the same party.) You hail a cab in record time, seriously a blink of an eye, and I am crazy impressed. It's only when we both get in and tell the cab driver the same address do we freak out for a second and laugh. Our conversation relaxes into one much more friendly than the polite back and forth we had established on the subway. The cab ride turns into talk of how we both know the hosts of the party. You looked at me laughing at my story and that was the first time I saw that spark in your eyes. And I know in that moment, that I'm lost. Again.

You fight me to pay the cab fare, and I only let you because you're quicker handing him cash, while I rummage around trying to find my credit card. Embarrassed, I thank you and you tell me it was no problem and give me that smile again. We walk up to the door and ring the bell, waiting for a minute patiently for someone to buzz us in. I let you walk up the stairs first, admiring the view again and we knock on the door simultaneously.

The party is already in full swing and the hostess, my friend Jen, looks shocked to see us both on the other side of the door, together. I give her a hug and kiss her cheek handing her the flowers, while you wait behind me. You greet her more calmly; you've only met a few times, because you know her husband, Ryan, better. Jen hugs you and you give her the bottle of wine you brought. She loves it and you smile. Then you excuse yourself to find Ryan. Jen looks at me and asks how we ended up outside the door together, and I tell her it's a long story. She lets me know she had been dying to introduce us because she thought we'd hit it off, but Ryan wasn't so sure you were my type. I laugh at that, because everyone is my type. Ryan comes behind me and gives me a big hug, kissing my cheek, telling me he saw me walk in with you. Jen glares at him, but I tell him that we met on the subway. He laughs, too, and pulls me over to the bar to make me a drink. I notice you by the food table, you don't see me because you're concentrating on the food, but I smile anyway. Ryan notices and asks me about it and I coyly shrug him off. He hands me my drink and before I can make my way over to you I'm pulled into a group conversation with some friends from college.

I kept spotting you throughout the night. Every time my eyes found you, you were either laughing or enthralling a crowd with a story and talking with your hands. When we walked into Ryan and Jen's place, it's like you flipped a switch and became this fierce, fabulous, flirty party machine and I loved it. But, I also loved the version of you I had shared that cab ride with, the quiet, shy, inquisitive one.

I don't know if you knew that I was staring, but at one point during a particularly rowdy story you were telling, you flipped your hair over your shoulder and caught my eye. I thought I saw the ghost of a wink before you turned back around. Yes, you had to know I was looking at you. (When you tell our tale, you teasingly explain to everyone that I was gawking at you all night and you felt like you had to throw me a bone.) But, really, we both know that we were trying to show off for one another.

Our paths didn't cross too many times at the party, we both knew different people there. But, I always knew where you were. It was as if my body already knew how important you were to me and my mind had to catch up. From the tingling I felt on the back of my neck every so often, I could tell that you knew exactly where I was, too.

It was early in the morning when the party started to wind down. I moved to the kitchen to help Jen clear some plates and put food and drinks away. I had just put a plate of food down and turned around to head back out to grab more, when I saw you and Ryan locked in a discussion. You looked bashful and shy and I thought it was adorable, even though I had only known of your existence for a few hours. I moved over to the table and picked up another few dishes when I heard you clear your throat and walk away from Ryan. I could feel your body buzzing beside me as you grabbed the empty bottles of wine to take into the kitchen. You didn't say anything and I didn't need you to.

After a few more minutes, Jen kicked us out and told us to head back into the city, throwing our jackets at us. I laughed and hugged her and Ryan both, while you tried to fight it. In the end we made our way back down the stairs of their apartment and back out onto the street. In silent agreement we headed towards the subway station to start our long way back to the city. I've never been afraid of the subway late at night, for better or worse, but I know some people are. You seemed anxious, so I started to make small talk about the party- even asking you to repeat one of your stories that I had only heard the beginning of. You turned to me with a small smile on your face, but a giant smile in your eyes and started the story over again. I wanted to grab your hand, right there. I wanted to grab your hand and feel you in my bones, my blood, my soul, but I didn't. We weren't there yet.

We walked on for a few more minutes, nearing the station when it started to rain, because of course it did. You shrieked a little and I just laughed. It was only rain, we would only get wet. You said it was just because it took you by surprise. In a stroke of fate, an empty cab turned the corner right then (You are always so excited when you tell people that you have never seen a cab materialize so quickly ever in your history of living in this city) and you threw your arm out in an instant. He stopped and didn't put up too much of a fight when we told him we needed to go to Manhattan and that we'd give him a really good tip. You told him to head to the lower east side, and I smiled before you asked me where I lived. When I replied that I also lived in the lower east side, you laughed.

This time our cab ride was filled with friendly observations about the party, comments about Ryan and Jen as a couple (we felt the same way about them) and small flirty glances and comments. I felt like we made it back to Manhattan in record time, and you gave the cab driver your address. It was only a few blocks from mine, so I decided I would get out with you and make my move. I reached into my purse and my number on a piece of paper while you chatted with the cab driver for a minute about cross streets and what not. We pulled up to your place and this time I reached over and swiped my card before you even had a chance to see what I was doing. You looked surprised that I was prepared to get out of the cab but I told you I only lived a few blocks away and I liked to walk. You sat in the cab with me while we waited for the transaction to go through, looking at me the whole time.

Sometime during our cab ride, it stopped raining. I popped out first and held my hand out for you to grab as you pulled yourself out of the cab. Your eyes met mine and I could feel the spark ignite. You straightened your jacket and purse and headed over to the gate in front of your place. You turned around and I felt like you were going to ask me something but before you could say anything, I leaned in and kissed your cheek. It was just long enough not to be considered a peck, and I hovered near your face for another second longer to let you wash over me.

At the same time, I grabbed your hand and placed the crumpled up piece of paper with my number on it inside. Closing it tight, before pulling away and looking you in the eyes, which were wide with surprise, and saying a heartfelt goodnight. Your name followed breathlessly off my lips.

You repeated the goodnight and I turned to walk away, looking back at you over my shoulder. I caught your eyes and knew you were staring, it's ok though. I know I'm hot. I stopped and waited for you to unlock your front door before continuing on down the street to my apartment. I had barely gotten a block away when I felt my phone buzz in my coat pocket. Grinning like a fool I pulled it out and the number flashing back above the text was one I didn't know. I swiped my phone open and read a short but sweet Thank you for the cab ride. Dinner on Tuesday? I have to show you that spot I was talking about in my story.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

My quiet reverie in the bathroom is broken by a small knock on the door, followed by your voice, soft and sweet. "Baby."

I unlock the door and wait for you to open it. You slide inside with a smile and lock it again behind you. You turn to me and your lips meet mine in a searing kiss before I realize what's happening. It's over just as quickly and your lips pull away from mine before I can take them again.

"That story just always does something to me. I was sitting there thinking about how lucky we are and I just had to kiss you."

I smile, "Me too, love. Me too."

A/N: Hi All! Thank you for reading. I'm aiming to post every Thursday, so you all have something to look forward to! Leave a review, spread the word, keep coming back if you feel so inclined.