Page 94 of House of Desire

“That wasn’t near enough.”

“I can’t do what I want to do to you here. We’d get arrested.”

“Is it really date night if you don’t end up in jail?”

“There are families present.”

“You’re a real party pooper.”

He kicks his head back laughing, and I press a kiss to his exposed throat.

“Okay, fine. We’ll keep it PG. Now, what ride are you going to take me on first? And be warned, there is a correct answer.”

“Adrenaline Alley,” he says naming the multi-loop, high-speed rollercoaster Dominic and I rode so many times we almost threw up when we first moved here.

“Perfect place to start,” I say, stepping back out of the circle of his arms. “Let’s do this.”

The line to the ride is quick since it’s the end of the season. Within ten minutes, we are getting loaded into our seats, but part of me wishes the line was a little longer because there weren’t cameras on us. I could hold her hand and no one would be dissecting it in the morning. I could give her a kiss or put my arm around her, and a talk show wouldn’t spend five minutes talking about all the other women I did that with and which one is the most important.

I could just be Parker.

On a date with my girlfriend.

And I sure don’t think I’ll get tired of thinking about how Anastasia is mine.

We get loaded into the front car, pulling the overhead harness down around our chests. Our feet are currently touching the ground, but once everyone is loaded, the floor will drop away.

“Are you a screamer?” Anya asks me, and all I do is raise my eyebrow. I know she didn’t mean that how it sounded, right? “I love screaming.”

“Could have fooled me,” I said, laughing as she blushes and looks forward.

I reach out, touching her hand as the employee comes by, testing our restraints in an automatic fashion then sticking their thumb up to the one across the ride from him.

“Clear,” the one in the booth says, monotone, and the floor drops away.

As we start making our accent, the chain click, click, clicking pulling us up the hill, Anya turns this way and that, looking at the lights of the park below us.

“It’s so beautiful up here,” she says, not paying attention to the ride.

We hit the top and crest. Turning to our right, we gain momentum and go through the first roll and that’s where the scream is pulled from my throat.

I tried to hold it in, but it is no use.

Anastasia laughs and screams with glee as we are flung around, my head bouncing off the restraint like a ping pong ball between paddles. Our legs fling around through the corkscrew and after only sixty-four seconds, we slow, coming into the first pit stop on our way back into the loading area.

“I might be a screamer,” I tell her and she throws her head back, laughing like a little kid.

Since the day I met her, this is the most unbridled joy I have seen on her.

No stress.

No cares.

Nothing.

I feel a spark of what could be an all consuming fire light in my chest. Despite the threat of possible rejection, I’m glad I took the chance to ask Anya to be mine.

“That was amazing. Do you want to go again?” Anya asks.

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