The guy looks between the two of us and snickers. “Sure, but I’m going to need you to sign these waivers first,” he says.
“You really have to make us sign something?” she asks him.
“Yeah, I’m required to, due to the ingredients. Some of the peppers can cause a bad reaction if you have a sensitive stomach.”
“Scarlett, I’m sure there’s another flavor you can choose from that list. There’s no need to make ourselves sick tonight. Ten different types of hot peppers? Maybe peppers are different down here than you’re used to up north because there’s no playing around when it comes to spiciness here.”
“Nope, I’m in the mood for something hhhottt.” She smiles and chomps her teeth. She is fucking crazy.
“You realize you’re out of your goddamn mind, girl, don’t you?”
“I do.”
The vendor hands over the two cups, and I take them since she can’t. “You’re going first. You know that, right?” I say.
“Of course,” she says as she signs her name. I follow and sign mine too, reading the risks and side effects that include vomiting, gastrointestinal burns, and intense stomach cramps.
“Should we get water?” I ask.
“I don’t know, do you have balls?”
My mouth falls open. “Did you just ask me that?”
“I did.”
“Women don’t talk like that down here, darlin’,” I tell her. “Your mouth would be considered offensive by some of your neighbors.”
“Good,” she says, proudly.
“You ain’t gonna survive down here.”
“Sure, I will,” she says with a wink. “Feed me, farm boy.”
I look around because I’m now wondering who else is bearing witness to this ridiculous display. “Fine,” I tell her. I take a spoonful of the crap that I can smell from a foot away and aim toward her mouth. Her lips are like these perfectly plump bows, and she runs the tip of her tongue over her top lip, making the center glisten from the park light we’re beneath. I think I’d rather kiss her than shove this hot-as-hell, heaping spoonful of death into her mouth.
I feel like this might be unethical, knowing it can hurt her, but the little I put on the spoon should be just enough to give her a taste without making her sick.
I place the spoon into her mouth, waiting for the reaction to run through her beautiful eyes first. I wonder how she’ll pull this bravery off. We’re known for hot foods down here, hotter than she might be used to up north like I tried to warn her. I’ve had my fair share of uneatable chili, but I just wonder if she was trying to call my bluff.
Her eyes widen and her hand claps over her lips. “Oh crp” she mutters. “Wtr” She’s looking around for a place to get water even though I offered just a minute ago. “Firrre.” Water isn’t going to do a thing for her.
I drop the cups into the trash bin beside us. “Over here,” I tell her, trying not to laugh. At first, I look for a water stand or a drink cart of some sort, but nothing comes into view. Serves her right, trying to show off. She thinks she can come down here and act all big and tough. Well, this ought to teach her.
We end up behind the ticket booth in search for something to drink and a storm of weakness comes over me as the glow from the lights disappear behind us. I press my body into hers, pushing Scarlett up against the gate enclosing the festival. I wrap my arm around her back, feeling a weak arch in her spine comply with my grip. This is going to hurt me as much as it’s hurting her, but I’ll be damned if I waste one more second.
I drive my lips into hers with force, inhaling the spice mixed with her sweetness. Her mouth complies, falling open as if instinctual. I skate my tongue over hers, taking on the heat she was trying to cool off. I feel the burn, and my strength pouring out of me. She feels limp in my arms which urges me to use more force in holding her against the fence. I cradle the back of her head, weaving each of my fingers through her silky hair, one finger at a time, slowly, before running my fingertips down to her back.
A moan whimpers in her throat and I have the urge to reply with the same hum, but I can hardly breathe enough to create sound. She fits in my arms like she was meant to be here, but fate doesn’t work like that. Two people don’t just fit together; they either blend like compatible flavors or cause a futile combination that leaves a lingering aftertaste, potentially destroying any desire to try something good again.
I pull away because I’m on fire now too, but the fire is spreading through me like I’m made of paper. “Shit, Scarlett, that was hottest damn kiss I’ve ever had.”
“I—” she gasps. “Wow.” She’s breathless, her lips are still parted and she’s looking at me like I just told her everything she’s ever known has been a lie. “Holy shit.”
“Are you okay,” I ask, sounding a little out of breath too.
“No, not even a little.”
“Is that good or bad?”
