Page 71 of Getting Over You

Cade’s eyes look to the spoon poised in the air, then shift to me. A smile spreads across his face as he raises his spoon and connects it with mine with a softclank!

“To special occasions,” he replies smoothly, his smile still evident.

“To us,” I add, a giggle breaking through. Heat rises up my face.

“To you,” he supplies, chuckling. “The reason for it all.”

My legs turn to jello. I’ve never been more thankful to be sitting down. I drop my spoon back into my ice cream, capturing a spoonful. “Care to tell me what you mean by that?”

“Well,” Cade says through a sigh, “we wouldn’t be here if not for you teaching me how to do this properly.”

I smile up at him. “You think?”

He guffaws, gray eyes meeting blue. “Princess. Trust me, Iknow.”

“Thank you,” I tell Cade as the sunset spills into the sky. We’re at the boardwalk, where we stopped for cotton candy and a second ice cream. I’m glowing as bright as the sunset above our heads. “This has been such a fun day.”

He reaches into the bag of cotton candy I’m holding, pulling out a chunk. “You needed this. You deserve a break, even if you don’t think you do.”

My heart squeezes. “This has been the best not-date I’ve ever had.”

Cade doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Me, too.”

I fight the smile that wants to spread across my face. “You’re good at taking a girl on a date for a guy who doesn’t want to date.”

“Learned from the best,” he says, his arm stretching out behind me on the bench. “Is there anything else you wanna do?”

I bite my lip.Now or never, Gigi.“I always thought the Whack-A-Mole game looked fun. I’ve never played it.” The heat of embarrassment rises at my request. “But that’s silly.”

“This is your day,” Cade says, getting to his feet. “If you want to whack a mole or whatever, we will.”

Cade ends up playing the game on my behalf. We realize rather quickly that I’m not the kind of person who should be confident with her strength, or lack thereof, behind a mallet. A few swings, and Cade wins a prize.

“You pick,” Cade says. “It’s yours.”

“You played,” I counter as I survey the array of stuffed animals hanging above the head of the bored booth worker in front of us. “You pick.”

“I’ve never won a girl a stuffed animal at a fair before,” Cade counters.

The worker is looking at us with an expression that screamsI don’t get paid enough for this.

“Um.” I flash apologetic eyes at the worker. “We’ll take a… seahorse?”

“A seahorse?” he confirms.

I nod, still uncertain. He hands it to me, and as we walk away and I survey the beady eyes, Cade says, “A seahorse?”

“You should’ve picked!” I exclaim. “I don’t know. I’ve never chosen a prize before.”

“I like it,” he says. “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes. “I think we’ve covered everything on the carnival date bucket list.”

Cade shakes his head adamantly. “I think I need a redemption arc with the Ferris wheel. I didn’t appreciate it enough last time.”

I study his face, those gray storm clouds not backing down. “You’re serious.” He nods once. “Alright. Come on.”

He wrings his hands as we wait in line. Once we’re in the cart, his leg starts bouncing with anticipation. As we rise, the carnival crowd shrinking into ants beneath us, he captures my hand in his own calloused, rough palm.

---