“Okay,” he murmurs. “I get it. This is... nice.”
I smile and let my knee bump his. He doesn’t move away.
The city sprawls out in the distance, blurred lights and silhouettes of buildings under the smudge of stars. I look at him, his face turned slightly into the wind, lashes dark against his cheek. He’s gorgeous. And he doesn’t even seem to know it.
“It’s kind of beautiful up here,” he says, and there’s something in his voice, something open.
“Yeah,” I say, watching him. “It really is.”
It’s cheesy as hell, but I literally can’t stop myself. It is like I’m momentarily possessed. By a demon who has watched far too many corny romance films.
Jade eyes flick to mine. I don’t look away.
Neither does he.
Maybe saying it wasn’t so cringe after all. Thank you random demon. You’ve done me a solid and I owe you one.
The moment stretches, electric and quiet. My heart stumbles. The rest of the world disappears.
Then the wheel jerks to a stop. Leaving us swaying at the very top. Jade flinches, looks away, and the moment is lost. Damn it.
“I used to sneak onto rooftops when I was a kid,” I say, trying to fill the silence without breaking it. “Just to feel above everything. You know? Like, for a second, nothing could touch me.”
Jade glances at me, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “I can see that. You seem like the kind of person who’d chase the sky.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I grin instead. “And you? Ever get up to anything rebellious?”
He huffs a laugh. “Define rebellious.”
“I’m thinking... late-night swimming in a hotel pool. Scaling a building. Running away to join a punk band.”
“No band,” he says. “But I did steal a car once.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
He shrugs, expression unreadable. “Not for long. Just a joyride.”
I want to ask more. I want to know everything. But I know that tone, the way he drops a truth like a stone into a lake and watches the ripples. It means, don’t dig.
So I don’t. Instead, I say, “Well, now I feel boring. Want to steal this Ferris wheel together?”
He snorts, and the sound makes something in my chest loosen. I love making him laugh. It is my new favorite thing. I think I want to do it forever and ever.
The seat sways a little, and the fair below seems impossibly far away, tiny and bright and unreal. The wind brushes past us, warmand soft. Laden with the scents of summer. Jade turns to look at me.
And suddenly, it’s quiet. Not the kind of quiet that feels empty, but the kind that holds its breath. The quiet that waits. A silence that pauses out of reverence for the moment.
His gorgeous green eyes search mine. “Flyn,” he says, barely above a whisper.
I don’t know if he means it as a question or a warning. But I lean in anyway, slowly, giving him time to pull away.
He doesn’t.
Our lips meet. Soft. Careful. The first tentative brush of something we’ve both been pretending we don’t want.
The kiss is soft, almost uncertain. Like he’s expecting to be pushed away. But I pull him closer.
It’s not perfect. Our noses bump a little. He tastes like lemonade and nerves. My hand finds his, and he squeezes tight like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
