Still, it feels better to know that in two weeks I’m not marrying someone I hate, but at least someone I kind of care for.
When Asher swallows the apple I track the movement, watching his throat work in a way that shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is. I feel Maggie pinch my arm and I jolt in place, forcing myself to be the first one to break eye contact with Asher as I turn away.
We begin walking again and I can feel her eyes on me, a teasing smile as I level her with a sideways look.
“Shut up.”
She’s been giving me shit about Asher ever since I told her about me and the guys. She obviously knew about Ronan and she assumed there was something with Liam. Then she noticed Vincent hanging around me more but didn’t say anything. That is until she opened my door one day, a door I very much thought I locked but apparently didn’t, while Vincent’s head was buried between my thighs. Ever since, she’s been asking me when Asher will join the harem and if I have a spot on my list for her.
She snickers, looping our arms together but doesn’t say anything as we make our way over to the carnival games. I’ve never been to a carnival before, so everything I know about them is from the TV. I’m not sure why Steph never let me go when I was younger. I remember a few carnival-like events happening around town, but she always came up with something better to do at home. I didn’t care very much in the end, but now it has me wondering why I had to miss out. It’s a little chaotic and noisy, and absolutely packed, but I kind of love the energy that is buzzing around here. It feels like joy and happiness. I wish I could trap this moment in a container and look back at it on the harder days.
We sit down on a couple of swivel bar stools as we hold this gun thing in our hands.
“See the circle?” Maggie says, as she points to the target in front of me.
I nod.
“You want to make sure you hit it right on the dot, it will make your balloon blow up faster.”
“My balloon?” I question as my gun starts squirting water.
Yanking it over the several inches that it’s off I hit the target, but the balloon blows up so slow it’s no comparison to Maggie’s. When her balloon pops, I’m assuming that means she’s won. She gets up and begins shaking her ass in my face, before the carnival guy hands her a little stuffed owl.
Asher steps forward, handing the guy some cash before crouching down behind me. His arms wrap around me, hands gripping the handles just below my own as he levels the thing out. I can feel his breath dancing against my neck as his head leans over my shoulder, his deep voice doing something to me it never has before.
“You hit the circle last time, but you want it to hit the little black dot in the circle.”
I turn to look up at him, our faces inches apart as I nod softly.
“C’mon, Bartlett. Double or nothing,” he says to Maggie, to which she happily accepts.
As soon as the water kicks on we are slightly off, but Asher adjusts us slightly and it’s a guaranteed win from there. Our balloon blows up huge and fast before it pops. Excitement rushes through me as I jump off my stool and into Asher’s arms. He catches me easily as he spins me around a few times, meanwhile I’m cheering like I just won the Olympics.
When he lets me down, my body slides against his slowly, my chest brushing against nearly every inch of him until my feet hit the ground. Those three golden flecks are on full display in this lighting, when a stuffed bear with a witch’s broom and a witch hat is shoved in between us.
Maggie gives us a knowing smile but doesn’t say anything as she casually strolls away.
“Do you want it?” I ask, offering the bear to Asher.
He gives a half laugh and shakes his head.
“All yours, Princess. You can cuddle it at night when you’re missing me,” he says with a quick wink.
It’s so fast I almost feel like I made it up, but his quick steps away from me tell me he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to look me in the eye right now. Asher Putnam doesn’t get embarrassed, and he definitely doesn’t flirt with me. Maybe this whole celibacy thing is getting to him. What the hell is happening to us?
He keeps his distance for the rest of the night, following no more than five steps behind Maggie and me the whole time. Things are about to start winding down and despite being in canvas shoes, my feet are killing me.
“One last thing!” Maggie says as she points to the ferris wheel.
I let out a bitter laugh as I shake my head.
“Absolutely not.”
She pouts, practically dragging my arm out of its socket as she pulls us in line.
“Maggie, seriously. Stop. I hate heights. This thing doesn’t look safe.”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It’s fine!”