Page 28 of Riot

I lower my mouth, ensuring she can hear me clearly.

“I wasn’t, and you know what I remember? It isn’t the fine dining and money. It’s these moments from when I was younger. I have money now, Fallon, enough to buy the world for you. I could take you to every expensive restaurant, spoil you, and buy you whatever you want, but then I’d be just like every other man you dated—forgettable. You can buy all that too. No, today, sweetheart, I plan on being memorable and taking you on dates you’ve never been on before because I want you to remember them for the rest of our lives, until we are old and gray together. I want this to be our first proper date.”

“Presumptive of you to assume there will be a second date, never mind us getting old together.” She narrows her gaze on me.

“Sweetheart, I plan on stealing all your dates until the very end. I don’t need to pressure you. I know. I always have. I always know what I want, and I knew from the minute I saw you that you were mine and nobody else would ever come close. Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to catch up, and in the meantime, I want all your firsts—first picnic, first sunset, first love—but let’s start here, first market . . . unless you’re scared.”

Her eyes flare with challenge, her shoulders straightening. “Fine, where do we start?” she asks as I lead her inside. “It’s like a maze.”

“That’s part of the fun. You walk and get lost, and you find hidden gems. Come on.” Holding her hand in mine, I keep her side to the wall so no one can accidently hit her.

I kind of feel sorry for Fallon because she never had experiences like this. Those are the days I remember most—not because of the money, but because I was learning who I was and who I wanted to be. I was finding happiness, exploring this world without judgment or prying eyes, and spending time with friends, and I don’t think Fallon ever had that. She always had to be perfect for the cameras watching her, so today, I’m going to let the little girl inside of her out. I’m going to let her have the childhood she missed.

“There are so many people here,” she comments as we wander through the short, man-made halls. The building is large, and some of it is outside, but most stalls are inside, selling all sorts of wares, from clothes, hats, shoes, bags, and food to jewelry and homeware. I walk her through it so she can get a feel, watching people shopping, couples holding hands and flirting, families joking and laughing, and teenagers taking pictures and enjoying themselves. “Nobody seems to care what anyone is buying or doing.”

“Isn’t that great?” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her head. “Here, you can be anything you want. If you want a five-dollar pen with boobs on it? They have it. If you want a T-shirt with your face drawn on it, they have that too.” Her laugh is soft and small but there, and I take every single sound as a victory. “Come on, you’ve seen, now let’s shop.”

“Here?” Her eyes widen, but I tug her after me, winding through the stalls until I find one selling cheap jewelry. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful and handmade, but compared to the diamonds and thousands upon thousands, maybe even millions of dollars that my girl wears, it’s nothing, but that’s the whole point. “Pick something,” I tell her.

Her eyes are wide as she scans the rows of rings, necklaces, and bracelets stacked across the small stall. A smiling older lady watches us in case we need help. I hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t take this wrong, but Fallon smiles at the lady, her hand flowing over the stacks. “These are beautiful,” she murmurs. “Did you really make them?”

“I did. They aren’t anything compared to the jewels in your ears though.” The older lady laughs.

Fallon grins widely. “The ones that half the world owns? They don’t compare at all.”

Fuck, right then and there, my heart melts.

“You’re too sweet, girl.” The woman turns to serve someone else as Fallon leans over the rings, checking them out.

“Oh, I like this one.” She picks up a simple silver heart ring with a double band, smiling down at it.

“Ah, that one.” The lady holds out her hand. “May I?”

Fallon nods, handing it over, and the lady smiles at us as she breaks it apart. “It can be worn as a single heart or as two bands—one for each person to create a heart.”

Fallon blinks, glancing from me to the ring as I grin. “We’ll take it.”

“Wait.” She tries to stop me, but it’s too late. I hand over some cash and then carefully hand her one half of the ring. While she watches me, I slide the other one onto my pinkie finger since it’s so small. Separate, it looks like a half wave, and I can’t help but grin in victory when she slides the other half onto her middle finger.

One day, she’ll wear another ring for me, and it won’t be on that finger, that’s for sure.

“You pick one.” She smiles up at me so trustingly that I would pick them all if she’d keep looking at me like that.

TWELVE

Fallon relaxes after a while, clearly realizing no one here cares. There are no eyes or cameras, just us. She shops, we laugh, and we wander. She talks to people and gives it her all, and the shy smiles she shoots my way makes it all that much better.

The more we walk, the more it becomes clear her bag is annoying her, hitting her side with every step, so I grab it, and without skipping a beat, I slide the strap over my other arm. She doesn’t even protest, which makes me smile.

We are walking around the outside stalls when I spot something and drag her over. “Pottery!” I tell her, pushing her to it and wrapping my arms around her from behind, resting my head on her shoulder. It’s as natural as breathing, but she stiffens. I still don’t let her go, however, and when the man running the stall starts to talk to her, she relaxes.

Call it delusional, but Fallon is totally falling for my charm.

I listen as my girl talks to the man about his wares and the workshop he runs. Her eyes light up with genuine happiness. It’s clear she loves this hobby. I make a note of it and vow I’ll make sure she gets to do it as often as she wants.

Anything that makes my girl that happy is a win in my book. I even sneak a leaflet and save his number. If I can learn, then I can help her, and it’s something we can do together.

After another hour, we find the food court, and I sit her down with a kiss on her head. “Wait here, sweetheart.” She sits nervously on the plastic chair at the small table. It’s quiet here since it’s early for dinner, and she looks around at the rows of food stalls apprehensively.

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