Chapter 28 #2
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I glanced over at the girls who had run past and felt a jolt of surprise as I realized one of them looking back was Eva—the first girl who had gushed about Tino and I being a couple back at the party a couple of weeks ago.
She only glanced at me for long enough to mouth a “sorry” then continued on with her friends, without making any sort of comment or look about me and Tino.
She didn’t care about what we were doing anymore.
And more importantly, I realized, I hadn’t even been faking anything for this whole evening.
Every time I’d leaned into Tino, every time I’d let him take my hand, every time I’d imagined kissing him—none of that tonight had been fake.
This was love. I was in love with Tino. When on earth did that happen?
“Let’s go on,” I blurted.
He followed my gaze and hesitated. “You sure? That thing looks… questionably safe.”
I smiled at him, the decision steady in my chest. “Trust me.”
That seemed to be enough. “Always.”
The line had shortened. The lights outlining it glowed brighter now against the dark sky, the metal structure groaning softly as it rotated.
The carts swayed gently at the top, silhouetted against the stars.
We joined the line, standing close as it inched forward.
The higher the wheel turned, the louder my heartbeat became.
By the time it was our turn, my hands were cold for reasons that had nothing to do with the weather.
The attendant waved us in. Tino helped me up into the cart, steadying me by the elbow before climbing in himself. The safety bar clicked into place, sealing us into our small, swaying compartment.
The wheel began to move.
At first, neither of us spoke. The ground drifted away beneath us, the carnival lights blurring together as we rose.
The higher we went, the quieter it became, the sounds of the quad fading into a distant hum.
It meant that all I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding in my ears instead as I realized what I was about to do.
Now or never, Lilah.
“I can’t believe the plan worked,” I said. My voice came out much quieter and timid than it normally was and I cleared my throat. “I mean, everyone has been so unphased by us all night.”
I glanced over at Tino, not quite sure what I was expecting. He wasn’t looking at me, though. He was staring at the bright Christmas lights strung across the campus, and for a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard what I said.
Then he said, “Well, I guess that’s that, then. It’s over now.”
The words were like the worst punch to the gut I had ever felt, which only made me even more certain of what I was about to do. I couldn’t live without him. I didn’t want to live without him. And I hoped that he felt the same about me.
“I don’t think it’s time to end it yet,” I blurted.
After a beat, Tino spoke again, carefully. “Does that mean… you want to keep fake dating?”
The question landed exactly where I knew it would. I looked out over the lights for a second, pretending to think, letting the moment stretch. Then I turned back to him and said, “Actually, I thought this time we could try it for real.”
For a heartbeat, he just stared at me. Then the biggest smile in the world crossed his face. He looked a kid on Christmas morning.
The Ferris wheel reached the top and slowed, pausing as the world seemed to hold its breath with us. Tino’s hand lifted, unsure, then settled against my cheek. His thumb brushed just under my eye—barely there, warm despite the cold—as if he needed to make sure I was real.
“Yeah?” he asked softly.
I nodded. He leaned in, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to. I didn’t.
When his mouth first brushed mine, it was light and searching.
My lips parted on instinct, and when he kissed me again, firmer this time, it sent a jolt straight through my chest. I grabbed the front of his coat, knuckles tight in the fabric, and he made a soft sound against my mouth before deepening the kiss.
The cart swayed faintly beneath us, throwing us closer, and his other hand slid to my waist to keep me steady.
I could feel the pressure of his thumb there, the rise and fall of his breath, the way he adjusted when our noses bumped, like he was just as focused on getting this right as I was.
The lights below blurred into color and motion, but everything else sharpened—his mouth warm despite the cold, the scrape of his gloves as they shifted at my jaw, the quiet urgency in the way he kissed me back when I leaned in harder.
We kissed at the top of the Ferris wheel, the cold air biting and the lights blazing below us, and for the first time since all of this had started, nothing felt fake at all.
When the wheel started moving again, we didn’t pull apart right away.
His forehead rested against mine, our breaths uneven, his hand still at my waist like he hadn’t realized he was holding me.
The cart swayed beneath us as the night rushed back in slowly—the noise, the height, the glow—but the kiss stayed with me, bright and solid, as we were carried back down into it.
When he finally pulled back, he was smiling—not careful or uncertain, but genuine.
“So,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Real.”
“Real,” I agreed.
Below us, the carnival kept spinning, unaware that anything had changed at all—but for once, that felt exactly right.