I lift one shoulder. “Yeah. Or to a fair.”
“Really?” he asks, disbelief in the single word. “You’ve never been to a fair? That’s, like, an American tradition.”
I tip my head ot the side, sifting through memories before shaking my head.
“No, actually, I sang at one when I was nine or ten. But then we went home.”
Annoyance moves over Leo’s face, not directed at me, but once again directed at the people in my life that he believes wronged me.
“Let’s go,” he says, simple as that.
“Go?”
“To the fair tomorrow. Let’s go. It’ll be fun.”
I bite back an excited smile, trying to be normal, since he didn’t exactly sound excited about it earlier.
“Oh, there’s no need. We don’t have to go just because I said?—”
“It would be for me,” he says, and I give him a look that tells him I don’t believe his lie at all. “I’m serious. A new experience. I’ve never taken a woman to the fair. I’ve surely never kissed her on top of the Ferris wheel. It’ll be a new experience for both of us.”
I love that about Leo. How he not only wants to give me new experiences but also never makes me feel silly or ungrateful, and how he makes it something new for both of us.
“Really?’ I ask, hope filling my chest.
“You want to go?” I bite my lip, feeling silly, but— “Honest answer, Will.”
I nod.
“Then we’ll go.”
“Can we, like, do stuff on the Ferris wheel?” I ask the following night as we stand in line to board the Ferris wheel at the town fair. It’s not a big one at the ones I’ve seen in pictures, but considering it surely wasn’t in the middle of town this time last week, I’m still impressed that such a big ride has made its way to Holly Ridge.
We arrived an hour ago and hit up four different food trucks, even though there was no way two people could eat that much food. Leo decided I needed to try all of the fair food, so we got a little bit of something from everywhere: a place that did meat on a stick, a deep-fried spiral potato, a gyro, and a corn dog. I’m already eyeing up the other trucks for desserts, but right now we have wristbands to ride as many rides as possible.
“No,” he responds quickly and fiercely. I sigh and roll my eyes.
“You’re such a party pooper.”
“Will, I’ll bend a lot of rules to make you happy, and if you want me to finger you or eat you out or fuck you hard, I’ll happily get right back in that truck and head home to do it. But I am not doing that in a crowded town fair in front of hundreds of people.”
“Party pooper,” I pout, and he shakes his head, letting out a laugh.
“You’re a nut,” he murmurs, pulling me into his side and pressing his lips to my hair.
“Next!” the man at the front says, and I almost squeal with excitement as we move forward and are ushered onto a small cart, then locked inside. We go around and around, moving as others are let on. Leo holds me close and laughs as I point out all of the sights from the wheel.
Finally, the wheel stops at the top, and I stare out across this tiny town I’ve begun to feel like I belong in. People mill around; laughter dances through the night air, with cheers, music, and the sounds of people winning games. Leo’s arm is around my waist, and he tugs me in close to his side, the tiny cart rocking a bit as he does. I look up at him, and his head dips as he presses his lips to mine and kisses me at the top of the Ferris wheel. And in that moment, I realize I am head over heels in love with Leo Sinclaire.
And it’s not just the kiss, or the Ferris wheel, or the fair. It’s the way he’s gentle with me and the way he pushes me. The way he wants to protect my soft parts, but also pull out the rough ones, the way he draws out what he calls my backbone. It’s the way he’s patient with me when he’s teaching me something I should already know, and the way he understands when I need my space. It’s the look on his face when I sing to him, and the one on his face when I get excited. It’s the way he holds me at night and the way when we’re out and about, even if it’s just in the front yard, his eyes are always on me, he always has tabs on me.
It’s the way he shows meheloves me every single day, not in grand gestures or expensive outings or gifts, but in small moments that mean more to me than anything else in this world.
It’s the way that I realize right here, right now, that I would give it all up if it meant I got a lifetime for small moments like this, but also, that I know he would never make me do that.
My heart is pounding when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine, closing his blue eyes and taking in a deepbreath like he’s trying to savor this moment. But when he opens his eyes, I’m given another reason why I’m completely gone for him: because we’re on the same page.
“I love you, Willa,” he whispers, the words echoed by a scream of kids on a roller coaster. The lump in my throat swells along with my heart in my chest. It’s simple, basic, almost as if he already says it a million times a day, and I realize it’s because he does, just not with words.
