7 #4
By the time we reached the Ferris wheel, twilight had fully given way to night and the fairgrounds glowed beneath thousands of bulbs. Walter had been temporarily entrusted to a teenage ride attendant after Ryan tipped him twenty dollars and made him promise the panda wouldn’t be kidnapped.
“You realize you just paid someone to babysit a stuffed animal.”
“He’s family now.”
“You hated him an hour ago.”
“I’ve evolved.”
The gondola rocked slightly as we climbed in.
Ryan sat beside me instead of across from me. Our thighs touched immediately, and his arm stretched behind me along the seat. Once the safety bar locked, he pulled me close enough that I could rest against his chest.
The wheel moved.
From higher up, the fair softened into color and sound. Music drifted between the rides while children became moving dots among the booths. The lights blurred beneath us, red, gold, and blue reflecting against the dark fields beyond the grounds.
Ryan’s fingers traced lazily over my upper arm while I rested my head against his shoulder.
“This was perfect.”
“Was?”
“It is perfect.”
“Better.”
I smiled, and his mouth touched the top of my head.
“You went all out.”
“You’re surprised.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
I turned enough to look at him. “You don’t seem like a carnival-date guy.”
“What kind of guy do I seem like?”
“The kind mothers warn their daughters about.”
Ryan laughed. “Your mother definitely will.”
My smile tightened before I could stop it.
Ryan felt that too. His laughter faded, and for a second, the guarded expression from my conversation with Evan returned. He didn’t mention Crystal, though his hand slid down my arm until his fingers found mine.
“I wanted you to have a good night.”
“You succeeded.”
“I’m glad.”
“Why this?”
His eyes moved over the lights. “You told me you loved it.”
“Three months ago.”
“I remember shit that matters.”
My throat tightened. “I didn’t matter to you then.”
Ryan looked at me. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
The Ferris wheel climbed higher.
“What do you mean?”
“You mattered before this summer.”
“We weren’t like this.”
“We didn’t have to be.” His thumb moved across my hand. “I noticed you.”
That word again.
“You were quiet around everybody you didn’t trust and loud as hell with Bliss and Aura. You dressed like every hallway was a runway, then spent half the night at parties hiding in kitchens because too many people looking at you made you weird.”
I stared at him. “You knew that?”
“I pay attention.”
“I thought I was subtle.”
“You’re terrible at subtle.”
“You’re telling me this after I successfully hid a crush on you for four years?”
Ryan smiled. “You think you successfully hid it?”
My mouth fell open. “I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“From when?”
“Sophomore year.”
“Oh my gosh.”
“You stared at my tattoos every time you thought I wasn’t looking.”
“I like art.”
“You stared at my mouth too.”
“I appreciate symmetry.”
Ryan laughed hard enough to shake the gondola. “Keep going. This is entertaining.”
I covered my face, but he pulled my hand away.
“Don’t hide.”
The words came softly, and his amusement faded until only the warmth remained. Beneath it sat the first trace of something more vulnerable.
“Not from me.”
The gondola reached the top and slowed. For a few seconds, we hung above the fair while the wind lifted strands of hair across my face. Ryan caught them before they could stick to my lip gloss, and his fingers lingered against my cheek.
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” I said.
His expression softened. “Yeah.”
“I know you told me nothing changes.”
“I told you distance doesn’t change what I’m doing.”
“That’s different.”
“It is.”
I looked down toward the lights. “What if you get there and realize this only felt intense because you were here every day? What if it’s easy to want me when I’m sitting beside you and harder when I’m not?”
Ryan was quiet for a second before he turned toward me fully.
“Charm.”
I kept looking down until his hand came beneath my chin.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“I’m not afraid of another woman in Flint.”
“That’s easy to say before you’re there.”
“I’ve been there.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” He rested his forearm against the safety bar. “There have been women available to me since I was sixteen. More once hockey got serious. That isn’t new.”
Heat rose into my face. “I know.”
“I’m not telling you that to be an asshole.”
“You’re doing a convincing impression.”
His dimple flickered. “I’m telling you because opportunity isn’t what decides whether I want somebody.”
My chest tightened.
“You think I haven’t noticed women since I started wanting you?”
“That is a terrible question to ask someone with my anxiety.”
Ryan laughed softly. “Fine. Women exist, and I have functioning eyes. None of that has anything to do with what I’m choosing.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“You.”
I swallowed. “You’re choosing me.”
“Yeah.”
The simplicity almost hurt.
Ryan looked mildly confused by the fact that I needed to hear it again. “I’m seeing where this goes with you. I told you I’m not fucking anybody else. I’m not dating anybody else, and I’m not collecting options in Flint in case this gets inconvenient.”
My heart kicked harder.
“Before you ask, I don’t want you doing that shit either.”
I smiled faintly. “So possessive.”
“I’ve never lied about that.”
“You trust me?”
“Completely.”
His answer came fast.
I looked down at our hands. “Then why worry?”
Ryan’s mouth curved. “I trust you. I don’t trust twenty-year-old college guys with functioning eyeballs and six days of poor decision-making opportunities.”
I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know exactly what dudes on campus think when they look at you.”
“They don’t look at me like women look at you.”
Ryan stared before laughing again.
“Charm.”
“What?”
“You have absolutely no fucking idea.”
“No idea about what?”
“How many guys watch you.”
“They don’t.”
“They do.”
“Ryan.”
“I’m standing next to one of the prettiest women who ever walked across that campus.”
My face heated immediately, but he didn’t smile.
“I’m serious. They notice you. Half of them are intimidated, and the other half are hoping someday you’ll notice them back.”
I looked down. “I don’t.”
“I know.”
“I only notice you.”
Ryan’s thumb stopped. The tenderness moving through his expression almost undid me.
“And I only notice you.”
The Ferris wheel stopped at the top while music floated up from below and the gondola swayed gently beneath us.
I leaned closer, and Ryan met me halfway.
The kiss started softly, his hand sliding into my hair while mine settled against his chest. The privacy created by darkness and height stripped away whatever restraint had kept the rest of our kisses appropriate for families.
His mouth deepened over mine, and I shifted toward him until my thigh slid partly across his.
Ryan made a low sound against my lips as his hand moved from my hair to my waist.
I kissed him harder.
The safety bar was the only thing preventing me from climbing completely into his lap. Ryan broke the kiss long enough to look down at the metal separating us.
“I hate this ride.”
I laughed breathlessly. “You were the one who suggested it.”
“Poor planning.”
I kissed the corner of his mouth, and his head turned immediately to catch me again. The kiss grew hotter until the gondola jerked and started moving.
Ryan pulled back, his breathing rough enough to match mine. He rested his forehead against me while his thumb moved slowly beneath my jaw.
The pause felt too familiar.
My body recognized the invisible line before Ryan said anything, and the old fear arrived before anything had happened. I had spent the night watching him touch me without caring who saw, yet some part of me still believed every moment of restraint was the beginning of rejection.
Ryan’s gaze narrowed. “What happened?”
“The ride moved.”
“You just disappeared on me.”
“I’m right here.”
“Your body is. The rest of you went somewhere.”
I forced a smile, but he didn’t believe it. I could tell from the way his eyes searched mine.
People became visible in the gondola below us, and the closer we moved toward the ground, the more my body remembered we weren’t alone.
Ryan looked toward the lights. His hand stayed around mine, but he didn’t kiss me again.
I hated how much that hurt.
The rest of the night should’ve fixed it, and in almost every way, it did.
Ryan bought me cotton candy because I said I hadn’t had it since I was a kid, then laughed when the first piece stuck to my lip and kissed the sugar away. He let me drag him onto a spinning ride he claimed violated several laws of physics and emerged looking mildly offended by gravity.
When the temperature dropped after ten, he went back to the truck for a lightweight black hoodie and pulled it over my shoulders himself. I drowned in it, and Ryan looked pleased.
“This is enormous.”
“It looks better on you.”
“You say that about everything you own.”
“I like my shit on you.”
My stomach fluttered.
He zipped the hoodie halfway before slipping his hand beneath the fabric at my waist anyway, his palm settling directly against my shirt like putting another layer between us had personally offended him.
Women looked at him. I noticed every one of them, and Ryan seemed to notice none.
A blonde near the beer garden smiled directly at him as we passed. Ryan was looking down at me because I had started explaining why the lighting on one ride was criminally ugly.
Another woman called his name from somewhere behind us.
He turned long enough to wave before immediately bringing his attention back to me.
“Who was that?”
“Girl from KFU.”
“Which one?”
“No fucking idea.”
I studied his face, and he laughed.
“You’re cute jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re asking me for a roster.”
“I like context.”
“Sure.”
He hooked two fingers through the belt loop at my hip and tugged me closer.
“There is no roster.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I’ll keep saying it until you stop asking.”
“What if that takes a while?”
His expression softened. “Then I guess I’m repeating myself for a while.”