Page 57 of Falling in Between
The racket of the rollercoaster zooming past catches my attention, and I grin. “That one looksfun!”
“You’llridethese?”
“Most ofthem.”
“That’s a surprise.” He grins. “The woman who’s afraid of bridges will ride carnivalrides.”
I hold up a finger. “Only if you don’t ruin this; I suggest you keep your safety information toyourself.”
“I wasn’t going to say aword.”
“Really?” I nudge him with my hip as we pass under the archway. “Because I used to really enjoyUber.”
He throws his head back in laughter, and the sun catches his face. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners causes my chest to go a little tight.I’m in so much damntrouble.
The sun creptbelow the horizon long before we’d ridden and re-ridden every ride in Luna Park, and afterwards, Elijah insisted we grab food from Nathan’s hot dogs—which shocked me. I would think a man accustomed to five-star restaurants and fine wines would turn up his nose at greasy carnivalfood.
The colorful lights of the Wonder Wheel flash over the worn, wooden picnic table while we finish ourmeal.
“Those hot dogs are disgustingly delicious,” Elijah says, balling his napkin in hisfist.
“Yep.” I slurp the last of my watered-down soda through my straw. “I assumed your refined pallet wouldrevolt.”
His expression dulls. “Is that what you think? That I’m unable to enjoylife?”
A twinge of guilt tugs at my conscience. I didn’t intend for my comment to sound condescending. “I didn’t mean it like that. Ijust…”
“You think having money makes me unable to enjoy things like this?” He jerks his chin toward the hot dog stand behind us. He pushes to his feet and dumps our trash in the aluminum garbagecan.
I struggle to find a nice way to explain what Imeant.
He leads me down the crowded boardwalk. “What did you meanthen?”
There’s no way to put it, because now that I’ve thought it over, I guess that is exactly what I meant. “Fine.” I drop his hand with a frustrated groan. “I meant that you were too rich to eat hot dogs.” And now I feel like abitch.
“Exactly. I may have a nice apartment. A nicecar—”
“Don’t forget a driver.” I add before ducking into one of the small boardwalkshops.
“That’s not what my life is all about though.” He steps inside, sweeping his fingers over the knick-knack mugs and beerkoozies.
“I’m sorry.” I snag a mermaid trinket with the Coney Island logo stamped across the glitter-covered tail. “I wasn’t trying to berude.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” He takes the figurine from me, placing it back on the shelf. “It’s most people’sperception.”
Elijah thumbs through a stack of postcards, and my attention goes to the carousel of souvenir hats behind him. I spin the rack, snagging the black cap with Coney Island written in a bikeresque font below a skull. It’s the most unrefined thing I can find, so I plop it on his head, tugging it down by the bill. The way Elijah’s dark hair sticks out from the side is annoyinglycute.
“That’s sexy,” I nod, fighting alaugh.
His lips tilt in an unamused smile that causes only one dimple topop.
“You should get it.” I turn back to the shelf of trinkets, grabbing a snow globe and shaking it so hard the waterbubbles.
“And…” Elijah chuckles just as something covers my head. He spins me around by the shoulders, his face beaming with amusement. “Just as I suspected.Adorable.”
“Ball caps look ridiculous on me.” I angle my head around his shoulder to glance at my reflection in one of the shopmirrors.
“Wait.” He turns the cap around so it’s backward. “That’s perfect!” Elijah pushes my ponytail over my shoulder and leans down beside me, his ridiculous novelty cap still inplace.
