Page 114 of Kiss Me Tonight

Guilty. So, so guilty. “It’s not nearly as much fun now, though everyone in town eats it up. They even have a fantasy league going down every Wednesday night at the Golden Fleece. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the town is in on it.”

Her lips form a roundO.“Seriously? Oh, my God, that isawesome. And totally genius!”

I’m sure Shawn thinks so. From what I understand, he’s the one that pulled the whole thing together. The Golden Fleece is probably raking in thousands of dollars every week, all because Londoners can’t resist watching one of their own up on TV. After weeks of putting his blood, sweat, and tears into the high school football team, Dominic has gone from out-of-town celebrity to a London transplant, like many others who have moved here over the years.

Plus, when I played for Boston College, all my parents’ friends put together a betting-pool website, just so they’d have a personal stake in me winning games. Londoners are loyal to their core—and if they like you, they bet on you. Dominic has been welcomed into the fold, London-style.

Scraping together what confidence I have, I ask, “Have you ever . . . met her? Savannah Rose, I mean.”

“Savannah?” Mina pulls her pink hair over one shoulder. “No. I mean, I guess I could if I wanted to. Nick’s on good terms with her. I’m sure we’ll speak at the reunion show in August—Itotallyplan to go. Between us, I sort of live for the gossip rags.”

Will Dominic bring me to the reunion show? Are we even that far along in our relationship? We certainly aren’t engaged—or even dating—the way Nick and Mina are. Shoving down the stupid, useless insecurities, I slip the keys from the ignition. “Thank you. It’s stupid to even ask; I just figured . . . you dated Nick after the show wrapped up filming, and I thought, maybe, you might have some—”

“Advice?” At my small nod, Mina laughs softly. “Girl, we might not know each other but Dom? Maybe he hasn’t told you yet—probably because he doesn’t even know how to admit it to himself—but he adores you.” She points to her phone as she pops the door open. “Thirty-seven times. Thirty-seven! Also, if you want to try and plant a kiss on him sometime around noon today that would beperfect.”

I laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

In the end,Nick wins the Kiss Bet.

Thanks to time spent shuffling kids around from location to location, I don’t have the chance to catch up with Dominic until hours later. It’s the Ferris wheel photo op, the last stop of the day, and as I climb out of my car with Harry getting out of the passenger’s side, my gaze immediately searches for a Hulk-sized man wearing a backward ball cap.

“Oh, there he is!” Harry loops a backpack over his shoulder, then jogs toward the group of people standing at the base of the Ferris wheel.

Dominic turns, a camera held in his hands, and I’ll be lying if I say my heart doesn’t thump a little too fast at the sight of him. He’s dressed in his customary “Dominic Uniform.” Dark everywhere, jeans, T-shirt, that hat he wears to death. Though, when I stroll closer, it’s hard to miss the tired lines creasing his rugged face.

He’s running himself ragged.

The way he is now—intense and super-focused—might as well be a replica of the Dominic that trained with the Bucs and came out with two Super Bowl rings and what feels like a gazillion MVP awards. Except that we’re coaching high school ball, not the pro’s, and this calendar is supposed to be fun foreveryoneinvolved, not only the kids.

Glancing to my right, where the Ferris wheel’s longtime operator, Mr. McKerron, is sitting with his head bowed, like he’s reading something or sneaking in a nap on the job, I scurry over and put my hands on the booth. “Mr. McKerron!”

The sun glistens off his shiny bald head as he looks up at me. Gradually, a slow smile grows behind his bushy, gray beard. Arthur McKerron can’t be a day under seventy-five. “Well, look-ee who we have here! Aspen Levi. I haven’t seen you since you were yay-high”—he holds up a flat hand, leveling it off at his waist—“and crying your little heart out because you were terrified to go up on The Monster.”

Terrified is putting it mildly.

I’d clung to my mother’s leg and refused to let go, like a monkey hanging from a tree limb.

Hand shielding my eyes from the setting sun, I peer up at the Ferris wheel. “You guys really haven’t changed the name in twenty years?”

“Now why would we do that? It’s a tourist attraction. You can see it clear across the bay.”

Growing up, The Monster and I developed a mutual hate-hate relationship. You know the worst time to discover a fear of heights? When you’re strapped to a mechanical wheel, nicknamed “The Monster,” with nowhere to hide.

I shiver at the memories.

Switching my focus back to Arthur, I paste anI’ve-got-thissmile on my face. “So, I was thinking—”

“A dangerous activity,” he says with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. No wonder he hasn’t sought out a different job. The Monster is a perfect fit for him. I swear he takes an almost sadistic pleasure in watching little children shout for their parents at the top of that damn wheel. “Go on, Miss Levi.”

“Before we wrap up the photo shoot, would it be possible for us to run a round for whoever wants to go for a ride?” I think of the determined set to Dominic’s mouth. “I think it could do everyone some good to cut loose for twenty minutes.”

Arthur flips his magazine closed. “And how fast would you like The Monster to go?”

My stomach threatens to upheave my breakfast. There is no way I’m stepping foot on that thing. Already the cinnamon bun I grabbed an hour ago for a snack is shimmying in my belly, ready to show up for the cause if needed. “Slow.Reallyslow.”

“Kids prefer the thrill.”

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