Page 64 of Love You Truly

It’s nutty, but I decide I can do better with a bright blue beanie that looks like a foam airplane landed on top of it. When Mallory puts it on, the wings stick out on both sides, and the big grin on the face of the airplane makes me smile right back.

“This is it,” I say.

“You sure?” Mallory looks in the mirror, tilting her head from side to side. As she does it, tiny lights on the airplane light up. “Oh my god, there are motion-sensitive lights. I actually kind of love it!”

She grins beneath that ridiculous fucking hat, and it hits me that I could fall in love with this woman.

Yeah. Except…I already have.

CHAPTER 24

Mallory

Agreeing to wear this ridiculous hat should be enough of a victory for Dash, but somehow I let him convince me to go on one ride.

All the spinny things are out, so I agree to the Ferris wheel because it seems benign. Or rather, Dash shames me into it after I lobby for the bumper cars. “Bumper cars aren’t a ride,” he says definitively.

“I’d be riding in a tiny car. That makes it a ride,” I insist.

“No, you’d be driving in a small parking lot. You need to leave the ground for it to be a ride.”

“I’ve never heard that definition. What makes you the expert on what is or isn’t a ride?”

“Trust me, Marshmallow, I know what constitutes a ride. For one thing, it needs to be fun, and it should make your heart do a flip at some point. There should be a tiny bit of fear involved.”

I almost tell him that being with him today has already made my heart flip over itself several times, but he doesn’t need to know that. It’s been happening since the day we finally lost control and had all the amazing sex. And now, even though I’m mostly bathing in the afterglow of what I’m sure half the ladies in the county have experienced, I’m still all tingly inside.

When Dash grabs my hand as we walk through the carnival and try a few other games, I’m aware that no one seems to be looking twice at us. Our engagement is already old news. So is the idea of a couple holding hands while they walk around a public space.

So why do I suddenly feel his hand against mine like it’s leaving a heat seal on my skin? I can barely concentrate on anything except how my hand feels in his, and I find myself wanting his hands on more parts of me.

“I think you should kiss me.” All in the name of public displays of affection. I stop and stand in front of Dash so he either has to kiss me or move around me. He makes the right choice.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, hon.”

I feel a secret little thrill at the endearment. It’s meaningless, and he probably doesn’t even know he said it. For all I know, he’d say it to his sisters. But I don’t care. It has meaning to me.

“I like when you call me that.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. Maybe he’ll think it’s weird. I promised him honesty, though, so he might as well know.

“What? Honey?”

“Or the abbreviated version you just did. It’s sweet.”

It surprises me when he squeezes my hand, almost as though he’s doubling down on the affection. “You’re sweet.”

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. Like we’re a couple. Not the kind of fake couple we’ve been pretending to be. Somehow, today I feel like a real couple.

It’s the sex, obviously. It’s confusing me, and I need to get a grip before I catch feelings that have no business in our arrangement. And yet…we are keeping up appearances, after all. No harm in going along with it. If I let myself get swept up today, I’ll just talk myself down later on.

It’s fine. It will all be fine.

Meanwhile, Dash is steering me toward the bigger rides. The area with the kiddie rides felt comforting. I figure I could handle a merry-go-round or a rocking horse, but that’s not where we are now. The roller coaster towers overhead, and I fear that’s Dash’s idea of fun.

“You’re not serious with this.” I point at where the yellow cart whizzes by overhead, filled with screaming teenagers with their hands in the air. “I am not going on that.”

“You made that clear. How about a compromise?” He points at the Ferris wheel off to the right. It’s huge and light with neon stripes on the spokes, but I have to admit that it doesn’t seem to be moving very quickly. “Even old ladies can handle the Ferris wheel.”

His smirk is back, complete with a dazzling dimple in his cheek. I want to punch him for comparing me to the elderly, but I’m also a tiny bit curious about the ride. Not that I’ll give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

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