Page 73

Ethan just smiled and nodded, sharing the understanding of losing someone you love.

We walked the pier a while longer, watching as the Ferry drifted in the distance, its lights cutting through the Bay’s darkness. I was starting to relax, which was nice—too nice, actually.

Being comfortable was dangerous for both of us. Hell, I shouldn't have done a lot of things, but Ethan had a way of making things just feel so damn easy.

So normal.

Human.

The Ferris wheel loomed above us, casting blue and purple light across our faces as we gazed up at it. The glass cages of the gondola moved slowly, steady in their rotation.

“Let’s go up?” Ethan asked, nodding toward the wheel.

Horrible idea.

“I don’t know…” I muttered.

“What? Evie—dark, mysterious, and avid horror connoisseur…scared of heights?” he teased.

I raised my brow, eyes glinting at the challenge. “Actually, I’m not scared of shit. Thank you very much.” Except I was scared, terrified of being trapped in that close of a space with a boy who made my pulse race and breath hitch every time I was near him.

Everything within me screamed to say no.

“Let’s do it,” I said, already regretting every decision that had led me to this point.

Dumb. Stupid. Idiot.

Ethan's face lit up. “Yeah, you sure? You really don’t have to.”

I turned and yelled back at him, already halfway to the ticket booth. “Better hurry up before I change my mind!”

We bought our tickets and stood in line, waiting for the cycle to end. I tried to ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach, but the closer it got to our turn, the more I dreaded my choice.

I could already hear Layne's voice in my mind, still feel the ghost of his breath on my lips.

“How deliciously reckless of you, darling,” he’d say, or something ridiculous like that.

I rolled my eyes. If he got upset, it would be on him. I’d handle him later. Plus, I really enjoyed seeing him squirm.

When it was finally our turn, Ethan climbed into the gondola first, and I trailed behind reluctantly. The clear glass bubble was smaller than I remembered, but it offered amazing panoramic views of Seattle.

The door closed with a soft click, and my stomach dropped as we began to slowly lift off the ground.

Silence filled the tiny glass container. That quiet was something I was so used to in the vastness of the water, but experiencing it this high up in the air felt jarring.

Ethan, on the other hand, was practically bursting with excitement as he pointed out the different areas of downtown that he recognized. Why was he so damn adorable?

Pressing myself against the curved glass, I peered down below as the ground slowly fell away beneath us.

You really could see everything up here. The boats that were docked along the pier, the bustling lights of downtown, all of it was easily spotted. By some horrible instinct, my gaze drifted to where our shop used to be, and I fought the lump in my throat.

As I looked at the sprawling lights of the city, I tried to forget about everything that had happened these last few weeks.

The waters of the Sound stretched out before us, and with each rotation of the wheel, we rose higher. Further and further away from the place I now called my home.

Existing in this moment, here with Ethan, was all I wanted. Watching the city lights twinkling below us, just like the stars above.

The world was full of darkness, but right now, as everything blended so seamlessly into one beautiful mosaic of shadow and light—I let myself pretend to still be a part of it.