Page 38 of Handy

I grunt and hope he won’t misinterpret my nervous frown as I shove cash at the guy and take my food too. But when I glance at Ledger again, he’s still just smiling. Always smiling, never taking anything I do the wrong way.

Is it possible he won’t let me fuck this up?

LEDGER

“You’re not a puker, are you?” I toss my empty plate into the trash after I’ve licked every ounce of powdered sugar off of it.

Griff rumbles a chuckle that seems to move through his whole body, reaching for my hand again as soon as his are free of trash too.

“One of those high-speed spinning rides might be risky, but I should be able to handle the Ferris wheel, even on a full stomach.” He tugs me closer, his eyes zeroing in on my mouth just a half second before he darts his tongue out and drags it along my bottom lip. “Powdered sugar,” he explains in a low, gravelly murmur that makes my nipples tighten and my cock start to swell.

“Mm, I think you’ve got some too,” I flirt, closing the space between our mouths again and sinking into a languid, tongue-heavy kiss for just a minute.

He as good as called this a date, he’s been holding my hand, and now he’s rumbling happily in his chest as we kiss right herein the middle of the fair… It’s okay for me to be doodling our names surrounded by little hearts in my head, isn’t it? It’s okay for me to be falling for him and not trying to do anything to stop it, right? Fuck it, even if it’s not okay, I’m doing it anyway.

When we break the kiss, I drag him to the Ferris wheel. We hand over our ride tickets and climb into a seat together. It’s a snug fit for two grown-ass men, but as far as I’m concerned, that’s a feature not a bug. Griff has to put an arm around me for us to have enough space, and I happily snuggle into his side.

The ride lurches and Griff tries to hide a grimace, his fingers digging into my shoulder a little more roughly than before.

“Everything okay?” I put my hand on his thigh and study the thin line of his lips and the deep scrunch of his eyebrows. I haven’t seen this particular scowl of his yet, so I can’t read it as easily as the others that I’ve gotten more used to over the past few weeks.

He gives a jerky nod and grips the lap bar with his other hand, digging his fingers into my shoulder hard enough that I wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises tomorrow. The ride lurches again and Griff closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring with a slow, measured exhale.

“I… um… used to be afraid of heights,” he murmurs, his brow crinkled and his eyes still closed.

My lips twitch and my insides go all squishy over his confession. I can’t decide whether I want to laugh or squeeze him until his eyes pop out like a teddy bear.

“You dope.” I chuckle gently. “Why didn’t you tell me that? We could have gone for the go-karts instead.” I guide his head onto my shoulder, and he doesn’t resist.

“I didn’t want you to think I was a wimp,” he mumbles, then laughs, nuzzling into my shoulder. “Good work, right? Are you impressed with my bravery?”

I snort and kiss the top of his head. “Absolutely. Stupid, but brave.”

“In my defense, I thought I might have grown out of it.”

“Sure, that’s usually what happens with phobias,” I deadpan, carding my fingers through his hair and happily letting him cling to me for dear life. “Hey, how about for our second date we go bungee jumping?”

He sputters another laugh, his warm breath puffing against my throat as he burrows his face in as deep as possible to keep from looking at the ground.

“I was thinking skydiving, but maybe that’s more third or fourth date material.”

“Actually, I think skydiving is traditionally done on the tenth date. You know, unless you’re some kind of dirty skydiving tramp who just jumps right out of a plane on the fourth date.”

He laughs even harder, the tension in his body making his whole frame shake with it.

“Alright, tenth date we’ll skydive,” he agrees.

If my insides were all ooey-gooey a few minutes ago, they’re pure mush now. Maybe this is just banter, and obviously I’m not going to take this poor man skydiving when he’s about to have a panic attack on a Ferris wheel, but I think he means it about the dates.

Helikelikes me, even if he’s still struggling with the words to say it.

“Alright, so we’ve got dates two and ten planned, that just leaves seven others to figure out. Any ideas?”

“I don’t know, we’re tackling my fears, what about yours?”

I grin, enjoying the view of the fair from the top of the Ferris wheel and the feeling of Griff pressed tightly against me.

“Clown dolls,” I say with an exaggerated shudder. “My grandma used to collect them. She had a whole room lined with shelves of the damn things. I had this recurring dream as a kidthat they would come to life and eat me while smiling the whole time.”

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