We only have one more full day on the island after this, and then we have to head home to reality. As sure as I am that I’m not going to let him slip away once we’re back to our real lives, Iamnervous about what things will be like once we break thisperfect vacation bubble we’ve been living in all week. Nervous and excited. Desperate to see what the future holds for us, but not wanting to disturb this thing we’ve spent this week carefully building.
“Do you think it works?” I ask, nodding toward the carousel.
“Only one way to find out.” He grins at me again and tugs me through the clearing toward the ride. There’s a control panel beside it with a sign attached giving instructions on how to get it to start.
“There is no guarantee the ride will work. Harold decides. Please don’t complain to anyone. It’s out of our hands,” I read off the bottom of the sign. “This place is so strange.”
“I think it’s kind of fun,” Real says with a shrug, fiddling with the panel to see if he can get the thing to start. The lights and music come on, but it doesn’t move an inch.
“I guess Harry is feeling lazy today,” I reason. “Come on.” Even if it’s not going to move, we came all the way out here. We might as well enjoy it.
We pick a couple of plastic unicorns right next to each other and climb on. Real wraps his hands around the gold pole that connects his horse to the floor and ceiling and looks wistfully around the clearing once more.
“You know, this has been the best week of mylife,” he says.
“Mine too,” I tell him honestly.
“Do you mean it about coming back sometime…together?” Real asks, looking at me with a hint of nerves.
“I mean all of it. This week is just the start of us, of the newus, the way we were always meant to be.”
A smile creeps over his lips, his eyes still searching my face. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
My heart leaps inside my chest, a surprised, joyful sound bubbling up out of my throat. “Well, thank fuck for that because I’ve been in love with you half my life already.”
Real grabs the front of my shirt, and we collide in a kiss, leaning over to fill the space between our two noble steeds. With a lurch, the carousel comes to life, toppling us even closer together as it starts to move. We laugh against each other’s lips and scramble to get our balance, unwilling to break the kiss.
Our lips and tongues slide against each other between bouts of laughter as our unicorns move up and down out of sync with each other, making the whole thing more than a little tricky but that much more fun.
“Do you think this means Harold blesses ourunion?” Real muses.
“Hm, maybe all these crazy locals are on to something after all.”
Chapter 9
REAL
No one has ever folded clothes slower or with more angst than I am right now. My heart is heavy as I stuff the last of my things into my duffle bag and glance around the room for any items I’ve left scattered around. When I’m satisfied that I haven’t missed anything, I zip my bag. The metallic sound is more ominous than it has any right to be.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night, lying awake next to a snoring Flynn, reminding myself over and over that he loves me, and this week isn’t the end of things.
A knock at my door drags me out of my worried brooding.
“Coming,” I call, hefting my bag over my shoulder.
As soon as I open the door, Flynn yanks me in for a hard, possessive kiss as if he could hear all of my insecurities through the door. I lean into him, grounding myself in the sturdiness of his body and the unquestionable claim of his lips moving roughlyagainst mine. His tongue coaxes my mouth open so he can kiss me deeper.
“We’d better get moving if we want to stop at that donut shop and make it to the ferry on time,” I say eventually, bumping my nose against his, my grip lingering on the front of his shirt, every inch of me unwilling to let him go.
It’s going to be fine. This isn’t the end.
“Yeah, we can’tnotstop at The Tasty Hole before we go,” he agrees, and we both chuckle at the name of the donut shop.
Just like he has all week, Flynn grabs my hand as we leave the hotel. The anxious part of me wants to beg him for reassurance that everything he’s promised this week is real. But I don’t want to freak him out by being overly needy, so instead, I just hold tighter to his hand and play the memory of the other day at the carousel over and over in my mind.
The little bell over the door jingles as we step inside the small, air-conditioned donut shop.
“Welcome to The Tasty Hole,” a voice calls from somewhere out of sight. “I’ll be out in just a second.”
