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I arch a brow. “Sometimes.”
“Why would you take me here? There are children. I don’t like children. Let that be known.”
I chuckle.
“This is funny to you?”
“A little.”
“You brought me on a date to a place full of sticky little demons and bright colors. Of course it’s funny to you. You’re insane.”
I shrug. “You like sweets. You like games. I thought this covered your range.”
His mouth parts slightly as I smile and take his hand. He tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip. “Don’t worry,” I say. “No one knows you here.”
His hand stops tugging, and I start walking him toward the entrance. We pass through the gates, and the second we do, his eyes widen.
He tries to hide it. But the park opens around us in a riot of color and sugar: booths stacked with candy and rows of game stands. Ilya looks at it like someone has just handed him heaven.
“There are…” He trails off, staring ahead.
I glance at him. “A lot of sweets?”
His gaze drags from one stand to the next.
We walk a little farther into the park, and I can see him trying to maintain his composure, but his eyes keep wandering toward every stall overflowing with sweets. They’re sparkling now, the green growing so vivid it puts the moon, the sun, and every star caught between them to shame.
He slows near a stand selling enormous spun-sugar towers. He says nothing, but I know what he’s thinking. “You want one?” He tears his gaze away. “No.”
His hand is still in mine. I notice because he hasn’t tried to escape it again. “Come on, prince. I’ll get you whatever you want.”
The first twenty minutes are very entertaining for me and a bit humiliating for him.
Ilya’s eyes keep catching on every sugar-drenched stand and rigged little game booth.
He stops at the first sweets cart with candied apples, and I buy him the black cherry one and a second coated in crushed pistachio.
He looks at both in my hands, then at me. “I didn’t ask for two.”
“Mhm,” I say, handing them over. “You’re welcome.”
He mutters something vicious under his breath, but he takes them both, and then he bites into the first one. He looks so happy. His eyes turn bright the moment something sweet lands on his tongue. It’s endearing how easy it is to please him.
I reach over and put my hand in his hair while he eats.
He doesn’t duck, just looks up at me, mid-bite, genuinely confused. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.”
He clears his throat and looks away.
“Can I try it?”
He tilts his head at the apples and narrows his eyes at me like I’ve just proposed a heist. “Buy your own.”
“I want to try yours.”
I duck my head and take a bite out of the one in his right hand.
