“Wait a minute. Really?” I ask, incredulous. “Did I just discover the King of Shafer’s one weakness?”
“Weakness?” he scoffs. “A strong sense of self-preservation isn’t a weakness.” He shrugs and drops the self-important act. “But yeah, I’m fucking terrified of heights.”
I resist the urge to tell him I actually find this really cute. “Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel? You’re locked in pretty tight.”
He shakes his head quickly. “Nope. That’ll freak me out more. Go ahead without me, though. Killjoy I am not.”
“Okay.” I’m surprised by how disappointed I sound.
He watches me line up for the Ferris wheel. At the front of the line, the ticket taker yells “Single?” over the twinkling circus music, and when I nod, he orders the lone guy behind me to step on up. He’s not bad looking.
“Hold on,” I hear Reeve call out behind us. “She’s with me.” He doesn’t even need to throw elbows to make it to the front; the crowd just instantly parts for him.
“You don’t have to do this,” I hiss to Reeve as the operator hurries us to an open seat.
“It’s okay,” he says tonelessly. His face has gone pale.
“Are you sure?”
His body presses against mine as we drop onto the cold metal seat, and he’s stiff with tension. Then the operator pushes the bar into place over our laps.
“Too late now.” He grabs my hand as our pod jerks into motion and our feet leave the ground. “Just promise me that whatever you witness in the next ten minutes, it won’t take away from your image of me as a total stud.”
I squeeze his hand and try not to laugh.
He wasn’t kidding when he said “fucking terrified.” Minutes later, Reeve has a death grip on the lap bar, and a fine sheen of sweat covers his otherwise-flawless skin. Every time ourpod rocks, he lets loose a string of curse words, then mutters a vague apology to me over the scene he’s making.
“You know, my mom always used to say being brave means being scared but doing it anyway. Which would make you?—”
“A total pussy,” he interjects. “Nice try, though.” His eyes go wide as the Ferris wheel gives a little shudder. “Fuck! Did you feel that? Is that normal?”
“God, and I thought you were annoying on the ground.” I pry his hand off the bar and hold it in mine. “Stop peeking over the edge and look at me.” Moving at a snail’s pace so as not to rock us any more than necessary, I shift toward him. His body is frozen in place, but he turns his face to mine. “Just breathe. You’re fine,” I assure him.
“Do I look fine?”
“You look good.” He does. Maybe it’s just fear and neon lights that make his eyes sparkle, but damn do they ever. “Really good, actually.”
He looks at me—really looks at me—for the first time since we sat down. Suddenly I’m aware of the heat of his hand in mine, of how close it is to my thigh, of exactly what those strong fingers can do to me and the parts of my skin they’ve touched. Despite the cool night air, my body hums with heat. Almost like he can feel it, one corner of his mouth lifts into a smile.
The Ferris wheel jerks and I lose him again, his hands flying to the bar. This time I don’t bother going slow and gentle. I lean across the pod, take his jaw in my hand, and kiss him.
He’s still tight with tension, his first instinct clearly to pull away, but I take his lip between my teeth and I’ve got him. I feel him melt under my mouth. He doesn’t move, but when I push my tongue past his lips, he opens for me and breathes into me like he’s been holding on to that breath since we left theground. I curl my fingers over the round of his shoulder and feel the fear go out of him.I did that.
It feels like a first kiss. Even though everything about his mouth is familiar by now, our lips move carefully, testing each other. I know he craves the electricity that flows between us as badly as I do, so when I slowly slide my tongue deeper, I’m not questioning whether he likes it. I’m asking if he feels how dangerous this kiss is.
I pull back an inch to look into his eyes. His gaze is soft and unexpectedly vulnerable in the second before he moves for me and kisses me again, even slower this time. It’s a kiss that feels forbidden. It’s not unexpected like our first kiss. It’s not a buildup of desire spilling over into action like at the library, and it’s definitely not foreplay like the other night. This is something new and dangerous.
I kiss him harder, not wanting it to end, bracing myself against his chest. His heart beats under my palm, and instantly I know why this kiss is so dangerous: Because what I’ve fought so hard to avoid has just become my greatest desire. Because when this kiss ends, we go back to just being friends. Because the only rule we had in this agreement was the unspoken one: Don’t fall for each other.
And now I’ve gone and broken my end of the deal.
TWENTY-FIVE
jade
Reeve isa new man when we hit the ground.
“Whoo!” he hollers as we leave the Ferris wheel behind. “My adrenaline is fucking pumping! Shit, I wish it was game day. I could throw the ball to the moon right now.”
