“No.” Sarcasm drips from her. “If you hadn’t noticed, it’s pretty dark in here.”
“Clearly,” I grunt. She’s right, it’s pitch black, not a sliver of light to be found. “This is great, good job.”
Something between a scoff and a laugh tumbles out of her mouth. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“No. I’m implying it.”
The door handle rattles again before her fists bang heavily on the door while she shouts and hollers. “We’re in here! Hello? Help! Anyone?”
“The music is too loud,” I call over the racket. “Save your energy.”
“How about some help?”
“You got us into this mess.” I shrug, a pointless move, all things considering.
“God, you’re a charmer,” she bites. “What are you doing in here alone anyway? If you try anything weird, I know self-defense.”
“You’re the one who violated my personal space.” I push off the shelf she shoved me into. I’d presumed I wouldn’t need my phone or be at the fair for long, so I left it in my truck. Fucking hindsight. “Rather than getting yourself all worked up, why don’t you call someone?”
Crickets.
“You’re not doing anything,” I point out bluntly.
“I stored my bag in a locker at the entrance,” she murmurs, feet scuffing on the floor.
Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I exhale a slow breath. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.”
After the month I’ve had at work and being forced to mingle with my brother’s friends, my mental bandwidth is at max capacity.
“There’s no need to be rude. Where’syourphone?”
“Not with me, obviously.” I attempt and fail to hide my jaded attitude.
Something jabs me in the chest.
“Did you just poke me?” I step back.
“Yes. I’m sorry for ruining your pity-party-for-one. Believe me, the last place I’d like to be is in here with an impolite.” Poke. “Patronizing.” Poke. “Asshat who lurks at funfairs.”
The heat of her body hits me as she closes the distance, chest brushing mine. Though the color of her eyes is a mystery, they’re definitely throwing daggers my way. Something floral floats through the air, subtly sweet, the opposite of the dressing down she’s giving me.
“Quit pointing fingers so we can figure out how to get out of here,” she whispers menacingly.
It shouldn’t turn me on, but it does, especially when she stomps her foot in frustration. When was the last time anyone got this much of a reaction out of me?
“Are you done?” Shadows hide my smirk or she might test her self-defense moves.
Her breath washes over my face, a combination of mint and spiced wine. “Far from it.”
If an emergency arises, I’m more than capable of kicking the door down. Not wanting to be slapped with a bill for damages, though, I keep my boots firmly on the floor.
Settling against the shelf, I fold my arms. “Listen, my friends will probably be searching for me.”Unfortunately. “And I’m sure your boyfriend is wondering where you are. Let’s just hang tight. We’re not dying in here.”
“Friends,” she mutters. “I came here with my friends.”
I don’t ask if this means she’s single. Not my business, nor should it interest me.
An awkward silence stretches between us. The eerie soundtrack from outside echoes through the door, and every so often, a chorus of screams sounds. She’s either unaware of how close she’s still standing to me or is preparing to strangle me.
