“Oh, that’s how it’s solved? You forbid it?” she fired back, the same amusement on her face as earlier. “How are you gonna ensure that happens, Abbott?”
“Guess we need to hang out more. Only way to be certain.”
“I mean, that doesn’t sound horrible.”
I rolled my eyes, pulling her back against my chest and breathing her in. “Wow, talk about giving a guy confidence.”
“You don’t need any more of that, big guy. Look at you,” she said, her voice muffled because her face pressed against my shirt.
I wanted to correct her, that I was not in fact this super confident, sure-of-himself dude. But I loved that she saw me that way. I held her closer, closing my eyes and letting myself enjoy this moment with her. The wheel circled around, and we were almost to the top, and that was when an idea struck. “You ready for an adventure list idea, Em? Or are you too scared?”
3
EM
June
I snorted and burrowed closer, because my survival instincts were trash and my body thought Noah Abbott was a weighted blanket. The wheel rocked, and my stomach did an Olympic dive. I breathed him in and counted to ten like a child.
“Depends,” I said, voice muffled against his chest. “Is your idea stupid or is it fun-stupid?”
“Fun-stupid,” he said immediately. “Best kind.”
“Convince me.”
He tipped his head, and his jaw brushed against my hair. My pulse thudded like a drumline. If I opened my eyes, I would see the whole city spread out, glittering and wide, and I might forget how to breathe. Instead, I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and tried to pretend I was not plastered to an NFL lineman like a koala.
“Okay.” His thumb traced lazy circles on my hip. “Two-part dare. One for you. One for me. No backing out.”
“Rude to make rules while I’m pretty much defenseless.” I waved my hands in the air, gesturing to being stuck in the cabin.
“You climbed into the Ferris wheel car willingly. That’s on you.”
“Fine,” I said, squeezing him once because I could. “Two-part dare. Hit me.”
“For you,” he said, voice low, “I dare you to do the thing you actually want instead of talking yourself out of it.”
I went still. “That’s not a dare. That’s… a motivational poster. A sticker for my laptop. A motto,” I said, brushing it off. His words lit something inside me, a challenge. An itch I wanted to scratch but ignored out of silly old fear.
He laughed, the sound rumbling against my cheek. “Excuses, Sanders. What’s the big wish? Not the tiny versions you tell people so they stop asking questions. The one that scares you a little. It’s me. You know you can share with me.”
A breeze slipped through the car, and I smelled the lake for real this time. Cold. Familiar. My palms went damp under his hands. I could say something safe like sell more on Etsy or get a thousand new followers and it would be true, sort of. But those answers would not be completely honest. There was a comfort in sharing this with Noah, someone who knew the real me.
“My big wish,” I said, my voice lowering to a whisper, “is to design for an organization. A whole line. Something that gets people to see athletes like I see them. Gritty and loud and fun. If a girl puts on a jacket I made, I want her to feel like she can walk into any room and be the entire show. I want people to see my work and have to have it, that it’s an expression, a way for them to share their story in a way nothing else could.”
He never stopped brushing his fingers along my lower back, the repeated pattern more comforting than I expected. My body tensed, waiting for him to laugh at me or tell me it was foolish or something like that. Even though Noah would never hurt me on purpose. He wasn’t built like that.
He didn’t move or speak. But he sighed and nodded, the movement causing me to bounce on his chest. “Pitch yourself.”
“What… do you mean?”
“You’re Em Fucking Sanders. Your smile lights up every room you’re in, girl. Look who’s at this event tonight. Former students, friends, athletes who know you and have seen your work. Pitch yourself to them. Do it. Tonight.”
My stomach dropped, and I forgot I was on top of a Ferris Wheel. “I couldn’t…”
“Sure, you can. Make the first move. Talk to someone, email, DM, all of it. What do you have to lose, Em?”
Dignity. Respect. Once again being humiliated and forced into a role I didn’t want. I swallowed those replies as the uncomfortable truth weighed down my gut. I was scared. I pushed off Noah’s chest, mouth parted as I gasped. “Oh my god.”
