Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Paparazzi are gathered on the pier, flocking the base of the Ferris wheel, and I’ve had two other temp guards assist me since New Year’s Eve ten days ago. Every time our bucket rotates to the bottom, our extra security restrains cameramen from bum-rushing the ticket-taker and reaching us.
Sulli picks at the cotton candy and stares off into the bright sun and the rolling foam tips of ocean. Despite being cold winter, it’s a pretty day. She’s wearing her jean jacket and leans her weight into my side.
Her green, green eyes lift to mine. “But he could fire you. We don’t know what he’s thinking while he’s alone.”
“He’s probably thinking he misses us and he hates this and it’s what he has to do.”
“Like he might think he has to fire you—that we’ve given him no choice,” Sulli says with a haunted look. “I don’t want to take that fucking risk, Banks.” The Ferris wheel swings to a pause midway to the top. We rock back and forth. “I can’t lose you too.”
I hold her broken gaze. “You’re not gonna lose me. He wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But I know Kits—if he’s set his mind to something, he’ll see it through.” She squints in the light. “We have to protect some part of what we created—we have to.” Her chest rises and falls like we’re on the brink of the end.
I picture being torn from her detail.
Abandoning Sulli.
Muscles flexed, I breathe through my nose, and I know that Akara is going to win this round. Gotta hand it to him, he came to play. Our Mini-Akara popsicle stick versus his job termination threat. Looks like we need to up our game.
“Okay,” I nod strongly to Sulli. “Let’s confirm us to the world.”
We’re doing this.
My pulse picks up vigor as Sulli digs for her phone. I take the cotton candy and hoist the big fluffy cloud of pink and blue to block sunlight from her eyes.
Under the sudden shade, Sulli smiles, but her lips falter fast. “So…should we just do an Instagram post like what Moffy did?”
“Probably.”
“Help me find a pic of us.” She scrolls through her camera roll, and I peer over her shoulder. Most pics are either selfies Sulli took or they’re photos Akara snapped.
As the Ferris wheel moves again, we ascend to the very top. A drop of blue splats on Sulli’s cheek. Fuck.
“What was that?” She looks up.
“The cotton candy is melting. Here.” I brush my thumb over her cheek, her breath shortens—our eyes crashing together, and in a quiet moment, I show Sulli the melted blue sugar.
She takes my hand and tastes the blue sugar off my thumb. Her gaze still on mine, as though lassoing this sweet moment around us, knotting the thread, and I feel the emotion squeeze us together. I slide my hand beneath her unkempt hair, against the hardness of her jaw and softness of her cheek.
While I cup her face, she holds onto that hand, our eyes latching stronger. “Banks,” she rasps. “We can kiss in public…”
The new realization settles between us with anticipation and grief. Our greedy asses want more. She wants more. I want more. And we’re not ready to let go of Akara. I’m not picturing the life he’s ready for us to live. The one without him, but I feel that future rolling into us like the ocean in the horizon.
Our bucket sways to a pause at the top.
Paparazzi can catch us making out. We’re about to confirm we’re together. Technically speaking, the only thing stopping us is fear.
Fear that we’ll lose him forever if we go forward, but I can’t stay stationary. I can’t sink into quicksand and struggle to come out.
I clutch her cheek with a stronger hand. Her breastbone lifts with a bigger inhale, and I whisper huskily, “You want me to kiss you?”
Her eyes scream, fuck yes. Her lips say, “Every day…every fucking night.”
I move in fast, and we slam into each other with a string of desperation and affection and something else, something we’re hoping to heal and hang on to.
We kiss on a Ferris wheel. Sweet, sweet taste of cotton candy on our tongues, and we pull closer, kiss deeper, slower. My fingers lost in her hair, I feel her lips urge mine to keep going, don’t stop. Never stop. And so we keep going ‘round and ‘round.
Ignoring the camera flashes as we reach the bottom.
Ignoring the gasps and questions.
Ignoring comms in my ear.
It’s a perfect heart-aching moment, and after two full rotations, I press my forehead to hers, staring down into Sulli while she stares up into me. Guilt paddles inside our affection and love, and I hope that changes in time. And not because we left him behind.
“One pic just to solidify it?” Sulli asks.
“Yeah.”
We choose one that Akara took in her bedroom.