I HADN’T BEEN to the carnival in ages. When we were dating, Hunter and I and Sam and his flavor of the week came out here almost every weekend during the summer. Sam was big on winning those oversized stuffed animals for his girl. He saw it as a show of manly competitiveness and every girl ate it up with a spoon.
Look what Sam won me! They’d jump up and down, their big boobs popping out of their skimpy tank tops. Sam would eat that up, no spoon necessary.
I used to wonder about the unfortunate life of those forgotten and neglected stuffed animals. Back then, Sam didn’t stay with a girl for long. In fact, he never brought the same girl to the carnival twice in the entire time I’d known him. Which meant there had to be lots of those stupid stuffed prizes scattered around the New Bedford bedrooms of many a broken-hearted casualty of Sam Goodwin.
I never understood the fascination with them anyway. They were cheap and poorly made, usually distorted, and far from plush. Not to mention, all those games were rigged and impossible to win, so I saw it as a waste of time and money. I’d rather spend both on the rides or funnel cake.
Mmm, funnel cake. Just the fried sugary smell of it brought me back to cut-off shorts and carefree summer nights. I missed this. We should’ve never stopped coming. I wondered why we did. There was no specific reason other than we grew older and things changed. I guess it seemed silly to come here as an adult. But not tonight. Tonight it felt long overdue and refreshing at the same time. Bryce and I held hands, swinging our arms as we walked through the crowd.
“Thank you,” I blurted out of nowhere.
“For what?”
“This. Tonight. Everything.”
“Everything? That’s kind of vague.” He laughed.
“Vague or not, it’s true. You always seem to know exactly what I need, exactly when I need it. And tonight . . . I needed this.”
“The carnival, you mean?”
“Uh, huh. And you.” I smiled, pulling him closer as we approached the line for the Ferris Wheel.
“Please, we just had hot dogs and cheese fries for dinner. I’d hardly call that a dream date.”
“Oh, but it is!” I wrapped my arms around his waist and gazed wistfully up into his eyes. “I feel like a kid again. No worries, no responsibilities. Just the music from the carousel, the stillness of a humid August night, that mouth-watering aroma of fresh funnel cake and . . . my man.” I lifted up on the balls of my feet to kiss him.
He kissed me back, gently at first. Then he burrowed his fingers into my hair and deepened our connection, stealing my breath and intensifying my heartbeat. When he pulled away, his eyes remained closed and his tongue swept away the wetness at his lips as if tasting me and savoring the flavor.
“I was hoping you’d save that for the ride.” I placed my hands on his broad chest and relished in the galloping beat beneath my touch.
“Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from.” He leaned down, pressing his nose to my neck. “I might even try to get to second base up there.”
His playful nature and the tickle of his whisper caused me to break out in euphoric laughter. “I think we’re the oldest people on this line, yet we’re the least behaved.”
The line crept up to the freckled ticket collector, one couple at a time. We were next, still holding hands, thieving little kisses from each other every few inches. When we finally took our seats in the rocky carriage, I was feeling happy and impulsive, much as I had the first time I ever rode this thing with a boy.
I nestled next to him, loving the way our bodies molded together so naturally. It was funny because we hadn’t been together all that long. Our relationship was still new with discoveries to be made at every turn, but I was comfortable with Bryce, as if he’d been part of my life much longer than he had. It was strange, but it didn’t worry me in the least. Maybe things moved faster the older you got. Kind of how time passed quicker now than when we were children. The eight or so weeks of summer vacation were an endless eternity to a school kid. But as an adult, with innocence and naivety behind us, the years whizzed by like weeks, the hours mere minutes.
“You seem very content.” Bryce brushed a wild strand of hair away from my face as the Ferris Wheel ascended into the sky.
“I am.” A confident truth. “Those cheese fries really hit the spot,” I joked.
“Sure, give the credit to greasy carnival food.”
“The credit belongs to you.” I angled my body so we were face to face. Our eyes met and then mine traveled down to his plump lips, as if to command them to kiss me.
When he didn’t do as my eyes asked, I bit my lower lip and brought my hand up to my mouth. “I have hot dog breath, don’t I?”
“Your breath is as sweet as the rest of you.” He pulled my hand away and proved my theory wrong.
The carriage was soon tipping to one side with the unbalanced weight of our bodies. It was hard not to get carried away, knowing what Bryce was capable of. His kiss alone had me writhing in the seat, ready to shed my clothes and toss them right over the railing. But the motion of the ride created a warm breeze that tossed my hair around us and the veil of silky strands felt like enough to hide us from the rest of the world.
Once the ride stopped at the very top, Bryce ventured for a brief moment to turn our make-out session from PG to R-rated. He lowered the neckline of my shirt and dipped his tongue into my cleavage. I arched against his mouth, my breasts heavy with want. Just before the ride sped up again, he copped a quick taste of my beaded nipple. He clamped his teeth around the bud, driving me wild. It was impossible to stifle the moan that escaped me, but before it could echo into the expansive night sky, Bryce’s lips silenced me and remained that way until it was time to give up our seats to the next group of riders.
We exited the line with heated cheeks and tousled hair. The feeling of nostalgia swirled with euphoria shrouded us every step of the way. I giggled at his sweet words, unable to keep my hands off of him. He guided me through the throng of equally cheerful people from ride to ride, finally stopping at a game in which the goal was to shoot water to fill a target and challenge the other players to reach the top first.
“These games are silly. Let’s go ride the Ferris Wheel again.”
Ignoring me, he sat down on one of the stools and pulled out his wallet to hand the operator a few singles. “But I want to win my girl a prize.”
“Bryce, it’s okay.” I shook my head. “I really don’t need one.” I scanned the display of prizes, rows of bright pink plush flamingos, shaggy white puppies, and cute little lions with furry manes. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of a young and eager Sam trying to impress all those girls by winning the largest of the ridiculous selection. And before I could object further, Bryce gripped his gun in both hands and aimed with one eye closed, the other focused on the tiny target a few yards in front of him.
A deafening buzzer went off and Bryce and four other players—two teenage boys, a little girl, and her mother—hunched forward to shoot with competitive intensity. After less than a minute of spraying water into a clown’s tiny mouth, a balloon popped, indicating that Bryce was the winner.
He jumped up off his seat and pumped his fist in the air. The operator showed him which of the prizes he could choose from and he turned to me. “Lady’s choice.”
I rolled my eyes. I really hated these stupid things, but if it made him happy . . . I scratched my head, deciding, and then noticed the little girl who’d been seated a few stools down from Bryce. She was on the brink of tears, her mother already digging into her purse for money to play again. She wanted that prize a lot more than I did, and I knew Bryce wouldn’t object to granting her wish.
“Hey,” I whispered, nudging him with my elbow. “Why don’t you . . .”
The words weren’t even out of my mouth before Bryce was walking over to the strawberry blonde beauty with a fluffy white dog in his hand. “My girl over there thinks you’ll give this furry guy a much better home than she can. What do you think?” He eyed the mom for approval and when she beamed back at him with a nod, he handed it to her with a heart-melting grin.
“Really?” The little girl snatched it from him and squeezed it against her chest. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re very welcome.” Bryce petted her atop her head of curls and smiled at the mom.
She mouthed thank you to him and then smiled at me before taking her daughter by the hand and walking off.
“You really are perfect, aren’t you?” I kissed him on the mouth and then stood back to appraise him.
“Far from it. And now you’re empty handed.”
“I told you, I don’t need one of those things to keep me warm at night. I have you.” We’d spent close to two and a half hours at the carnival and I was ready to make good on that massage I promised Bryce yesterday. Since our plans had changed and he never made it to my place beforehand, I hoped he’d come over now and maybe even spend the night.
“Want to get out of here?” I whispered against his lips.
“Uh . . . yeah.” He picked me up by the waist and spun me around. I was immediately dizzy, but it wasn’t only from the spinning.
I laughed uncontrollably until he put me down. Finding my footing, I leaned into him and then looked up to find a familiar face staring back at me.
Make that two familiar faces.
“Heyyyy!” Sam laughed as he swallowed a cloud of pink cotton candy. “Well, this is funny.”
Bryce chuckled in return, walking forward to shake Sam’s hand. “Ha! Yes, it is.”
But it wasn’t. Nothing was funny about the way Sam’s arm was draped around the bare shoulders of Patricia, the realtor. I had no idea he was even interested in her, let alone taking her out on a date. This was the kind of thing he always told me.
“Hey, London. Good to see you again,” Patricia said, wielding—yep, you guessed it—a big, lime green stuffed frog. It was an ugly freaking thing.
“You two know each other?” Bryce was at my side, his arm now wrapped around my waist.
“Mmm hmm.” I swallowed back an unexpected lump of . . . something I couldn’t quite decipher. “We met yesterday. At the showings. Patricia is Sam’s realtor.”
“Oh, nice. I’m Bryce, by the way. London’s boyfriend.”
I should’ve introduced them at the start. That would have been the right thing to do. But I was too busy burning a hole in the hand Sam used to cup Patricia’s shoulder.
Why are his hands on her?
Is that her lipstick on the corner of his mouth?
Why do I care?
“Sorry.” I shook my head and darted my gaze between Bryce and Patricia. “I’m still a little . . . dizzy. Bryce, did I tell you Patricia found Sam a house already?”
“You did.” He smiled at me and then at Sam. “Congrats, man. That’s awesome news. Any idea when you’ll be moving in?”
“Should be rather quickly,” Patricia answered for him. “The sellers are anxious to move on. Seems a lot of my clients are in similar situations lately, so the inventory is turning around pretty fast.” She was soon in full-on business mode and Bryce latched on with an enquiry about potential investment properties. Which left Sam and me in a silent, eye-locked standstill.
If the weight of a penetrating stare could inflict bodily harm, one of us was about to drop—but who’d fall victim first?
“When did this happen?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice low enough for only Sam to hear.
“What’s it to you?” He popped another piece of cotton candy into his mouth with a shrug.
I narrowed my eyes, my jaw slackening. I didn’t realize I’d been clenching my teeth until now. “I didn’t even know you liked her.”
“Well, I do. So here we are.”
I laughed through my nose.
“What? Something funny?”
“No, I . . .” I, what? Why was I acting like this? My behavior was completely unwarranted. I was on a date with Bryce. My boyfriend. And Sam was doing what most single guys did on a Saturday night. I just thought I’d know if he was attracted to her. Or that he would have told me he was interested in asking her out. Then again, he hadn’t even told me about his screening today. Grateful for remembering that tidbit, I suddenly changed the topic. “Oh! How did your appointment go?”
“It went.” He outstretched his arm to show me the Band-Aid covering the crook of his elbow.
“When will we know?”
“Monday. I’ll rush the results.” Bryce was at my side again, his fingers laced with mine.
“You can do that? I thought that was ‘made for TV’ shit.” Sam handed the cotton candy off to Patricia, who bit it straight from the stick.
“He still has to go through the evaluation process, but yes, I can do that.” Bryce bent and placed a chaste kiss at my temple. “Anything for my girl.”
Five minutes ago that sentiment, those words, would have made me dizzy all over again. Now they made my stomach lurch because Sam’s reaction was impossible to overlook. His nostrils flared, his chest puffed up, and his left eye twitched ever so slightly. I wondered if Bryce saw it.
Shit. I really hope Bryce didn’t see that.
“Well, then.” Sam forced a smile. “I guess we’ll know Monday. Thanks for the rush job, Doc.”
Bryce nodded and Patricia’s eyes ping-ponged between all three of us. “What did I miss?”
We all looked down at our feet, abandoning the poor girl’s curiosity.
It was Bryce who broke the silence, his arm wrapped even tighter around my middle as he explained. “Sam’s being tested as a donor for one of my patients.”
“For London’s mother,” Sam added. “She needs a kidney.”
“And you’re handing over one of yours just like that?” I didn’t appreciate the snarky undertone to Patricia’s question but I was sure she didn’t mean anything by it.
“He’s my best friend. He’s like family.” I felt the need to defend myself, my mother, Sam.
“Yeah,” Sam chided. “London’s like a sister to me. She treats me like a brother.”
The emphasis on certain words was not lost on me but luckily the explanation was enough to answer Patricia’s question.
Bryce, however, tensed beside me. “It’s very generous of you, Sam. London’s really lucky to have a friend like you.”
Oh, God Almighty. This is ridiculous. What are they trying to prove?
“Oh, Sam! Look! The line for the Ferris Wheel finally went down.” Thank you, Patricia!
“Would you look at that?” Sam smiled and then grabbed her hand before shooting an unenthusiastic look my way. “I guess we should let you two get going, then.”
Bryce garnered my attention by brushing my shoulder with his thumb. “We were done here, right? I mean, we can hang around longer if you guys want to . . .”
“No, no. I’m ready to go home.” Not for the right reasons, though. Whereas before I couldn’t wait to get home and be with Bryce, now I just wanted out of here to escape all this awkwardness and avoid watching Sam escort Patricia onto that damn Ferris Wheel.
“Well, good night, then,” Patricia sang, pulling Sam toward the ride. He was too caught up in her to turn around and say good night himself.
“Good night.” Bryce waved to their backs and then turned toward me. “That was interesting.”
I released a heavy huff and mumbled, “It certainly was.”