Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
He's right. I do love carnivals.
"They feel like magic," I whisper, unlatching my seatbelt as I stare at the Ferris Wheel slowly spinning people through the night sky. "They just spring up from the ground overnight, give people joy, and then disappear with the rising sun, like they were never there at all."
"Well, then let's go partake in a little of this magic before it disappears," he says. "What do you say?"
"Do I have to ride anything?"
"Uh, hell, yes." He flashes me a half-grin that makes my stomach turn a flip. "I want to hold your hand while you freak out that we're going to die like you did when we were younger."
"I did not freak out," I protest.
"Yeah, you did. It was cute as hell. The damn Ferris wheel wouldn't even be off the ground, and you were panicking. I fucking loved being the one who calmed you down."
My stomach turns another flip. How did I ever think this man was standoffish or that he didn't like me? It seems crazy to think that now. He was always my most steadfast protector. Even when I resented it, he was always right there.
We messed up along the way, and little pieces of who we were got buried, but as he hops out and circles around the truck to help me out, I realize for the first time that they weren't ever lost to us. They've been there all along, just waiting for us to dust them off and learn to wear them again.
He pops open the door and then lifts me from the truck, making sure he slides me down his body until I'm on my feet. I groan softly, stumbling into him, which earns a deep laugh from him.
"Terrorist," I grumble.
"You fucking love it," he retorts, linking our fingers together.
We stroll toward the entrance hand-in-hand and then pass through the gates. The entire lot is a riot of bright colors and loud music, with happy laughter spilling over the top. It instantly brings a smile to my face. I can't remember the last time I went to a carnival.
Trystan buys armbands for both of us, insisting that we'll need them, and then loops an arm around my waist. He keeps me tucked against his side as he leads me toward food vendors, where the smell of sugar and cooking meat permeates every inch of the air.
"Pink?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at me when it's his turn to order.
"Always pink."
He flashes me that smile—the one that makes me forget anyone else even exists—and then places our order. Within seconds, he's got a giant ball of pink cotton candy in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.
We wander through the carnival while we nibble on the turkey leg and eat way too much cotton candy, just looking at everything. Eventually, he stops in front of a dart game, reaching for his wallet.
"You're going to lose," I tease him.
"I never lose," he says, as if he's mastered whatever trickery these places use to ensure no one ever really wins. He nods at a giant teddy bear hanging from a net. "You're going home with that tonight, Coco."
"If you say so."
"I do."
I stand aside, eating cotton candy while he tries like hell to win that teddy bear. Even when his darts hit the balloons, they just bounce right off half the time. But he just narrows his eyes, focusing, and tries again.
I'm not sure who is more surprised when he actually manages to win—him or the carnie. But the guy hands over the massive teddy bear, and Trystan saunters toward me with a devilish smirk.
"Your prize, princess," he says, holding it out to me.
I grin, shaking my head, and wrap my arms around it. It's soft and fuzzy…damn near as big as I am. He laughs and snaps a photo of me hugging it before we offer it to a toddler in a princess dress and a tiara who keeps staring at it in awe.
She squeals when I place it in her arms, the bear's feet dragging the ground as she races back to her dad's side to show him her new prize.
"You don't mind, do you?" I ask Trystan, just to make sure.
"Nah, baby." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I've wanted to win that goddamn bear for you since I was ten. My job here is finally done. She can have it."
I laugh quietly, grateful for him in ways I can't even explain.
For the next two hours, we eat carnival food, and he drags me on every ride we come across. I spend most of them with my face pressed against his shoulder, shrieking in terror. He spends them with his arm around my waist, holding me tightly.
It's perfect.
Until he pulls me toward the Ferris Wheel.