Page 68 of The Promises We Broke
He offered me his arm, and after a moment's hesitation, I took it. The simple gesture felt momentous somehow, like we were crossing some invisible line from whatever we'd been pretending to be into something real and terrifying and wonderful.
"So," I said as we started walking down the crowded street, "what's our game plan? Food first, or do you want to jump straight into bankrupting yourself at the ring toss?"
He laughed, and the sound sent warmth shooting through my chest. "I was thinking we'd start with the essentials. Apple cider and kettle corn." He ticked them off his fingers like he'd been thinking about this for just as long as I had. "Then we work our way up to the more serious business of winning you ridiculous stuffed animals."
"Just like old times," I said softly.
"Just like old times," he agreed, but there was something different in his voice. More mature, more certain. Like he knew exactly what he was risking and had decided it was worth it anyway.
The next hour passed in a blur of shared funnel cake and gentle teasing and the kind of easy conversation I'd forgotten we were capable of. Gage bought us matching cinnamon sugar donuts and made a show of feeding me bites when I claimed my hands were too sticky to eat properly. I pretended to be scandalized when he licked powdered sugar off his thumb, but the truth was, watching his mouth had become my new favorite form of torture.
"Your turn," he said, leading me to the ring toss booth where a collection of stuffed animals hung from the ceiling like a fluffy rainbow.
"My turn for what?"
"To bankrupt me trying to win you a prize," he said, pulling out his wallet with exaggerated seriousness. "It's tradition."
"Gage, you don't have to..."
"I want to," he said simply, and something in his tone made me stop protesting.
Twenty dollars and fifteen rings later, he finally managed to land one around a milk bottle, earning a cheer from the growing crowd of onlookers who'd been rooting for him.
"Pick your prize, beautiful," the booth operator called out, and I felt heat flood my cheeks at the endearment.
I scanned the available options, my eyes landing on a small brown horse with kind eyes and a white star on its forehead. "That one," I said, pointing.
Gage followed my gaze and grinned. "Looks like Bullet."
"That's why I want it," I said, and watched his expression soften into something that made my heart clench.
He accepted the stuffed horse from the booth operator and handed it to me with a little bow that was both ridiculous and charming. "For you, my lady."
I clutched the toy to my chest, probably looking like an idiot but too happy to care. "Thank you. I love him."
"What are you going to name him?"
I considered this seriously. "Peanuts."
His eyebrows shot up. "Like Mr. Peanuts?"
The reference to the pink elephant he'd won me when we were sixteen hung between us, loaded with memory and meaning.
"Different Peanuts," I said quietly. "This one's brown."
"This one is definitely brown," he said in agreement, but his eyes were soft with understanding.
As the sun started to sink toward the horizon, the festival began to transform. String lights flickered to life between the trees, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. A small stage had been set up in the town square, where local musicians were starting to tune their instruments for the evening's entertainment.
"Dance with me," Gage said suddenly.
I looked around at the couples already swaying to the sound check, then back at him. "Here? In front of everyone?"
"Here," he confirmed, offering me his hand. "In front of everyone."
My heart was beating so fast I was surprised it didn't bruise my ribs. Dancing with Gage, here, now, in front of the entire town. It would be a declaration. An announcement that we were... what? Dating? Trying again? Figuring it out?
"Billie," he said softly, and his voice was gentle but sure. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But I'm tired of being careful. I'm tired of pretending this is just friendship when we both know it's so much more."
