How You Know It Won’t Work:
He makes you ride the wheel of death
I was overdressed.
Glancing down at my attire, I cringed at how I stood out in the crowd of country girls. Oakland County always brought out the want-to-be farmer’s daughters when the fair rolled into town. Complete with daisy duke shorts, plaid shirts, and cowboy boots.
Leaning into Caleb’s side, I whispered, “I think I should change.”
“You look beautiful,” he promised, putting his arm around my waist. “What do you want to do? Rides? Games? Get some fried dough?”
My mouth watered over the thought of fried dough, despite having eaten on the way over. Who didn’t have time for fried food and powdered sugar?
It’s the most important food group!
I bit my lip, smiling at him. “Dough, please.”
“A girl after my own heart. The real question is what you put on top of it. Did you know Iris puts marinara sauce on hers?”
I gasped. “Blasphemy!”
He chuckled. “Imagine having to call her family. Disgrace.”
“What do you put on it?”
He peeked over at me as we walked along the line of food venders. My stomach growled at the mixture of grease and sugar in the air. “Cinnamon sugar. Let me guess. You’re a powdered sugar kinda girl.”
“Guilty.”
He gestured toward the booth in front of us. Wrapped around the side was a picture of chocolate coated peanut butter fried dough. The picture alone made my stomach bloat, my pants suddenly feeling a little too snug.
“Want one?”
I blinked. “Uh…”
He stopped in front of the ordering window, brows arching as he waited for a reply.
Running my tongue across my bottom lip, I examined the picture once more. I’d had my fair share of sweets from the basket he sent today and having this sweetness would make me diabetic. Well, borderline.
But I nearly drooled catching a whiff of the liquid peanut butter coming from inside the food truck.
Internally groaning, I gave in. “Yes.”
He held up two fingers. “One peanut butter fried dough, and one cinnamon sugar please.”
Passing the lovely old woman money, he guided me off to the side so the people in line could order while ours was cooking. After our dough was done, we made it to a picnic table near the truck and sat across from each other.
Some of the chocolate drizzle was escaping off the side of the plate. I stuck my tongue out and licked it right up. Caleb watched me intently, eyes flashing at the movement. Self-consciously, I blushed crimson.
“Thanks for this. It smells yummy.”
He ripped a piece of dough off and stuffed it into his mouth, wiping his fingers off on a napkin.
The top of my dough was covered in melted peanut butter and chocolate and sprinkled with powdered sugar. There was no way I could eat it without making a mess, but I tried anyway.
Tearing a piece off, I folded it to capture the toppings from dripping onto my fingers. It was sweeter than I would have thought but melted on my tongue. I made sure not to make any embarrassing noises this time, though I think that disappointed Caleb.
“Is it good?”
I nodded, still chewing.
He had over half his dough devoured before I could even take a second chunk of mine. “What’s your favorite thing to do at the fair?”
I thought about it, remembering all the times my parents let me go to the game booths and helped me win prizes. “The games, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the fair. I think the last time was when my parents took me in high school. Dad won me a white unicorn from the water gun game. You know the one? You squirt the little hole?”
He raised a brow, lips quirking.
“Ug, perv.” I rolled my eyes. “Not like that!”
He got over his humor quickly and shook his head smiling at me. I had a fantastic time with my parents. Even if it was a little embarrassing, I still had that unicorn hidden in a box in the closet. Don’t judge.
“I don’t know about the water gun game,” he said sarcastically, a smirk raising his lips, “but I’m a badass when it comes to darts. Maybe I can win you something.”
Just the thought of him winning a stuffed animal for me made my pitiful heart skip a beat. Just another thing one of those stupid boys never did for me.
“I’d like that,” I admitted quietly.
The smile he graced me with eased any anxiety that was left over. I took a deep breath and exhaled away the worries, digging back into my favorite dessert.
We kept an easy conversation going, learning more about each other. Like how he liked to read at night before bed. While I was strictly a fiction girl, he was all about historical nonfiction. Of course, I loved history documentaries and could binge watch just about any show relating to World War II or the 1920’s, so I wasn’t one to judge.
I told him about my middle school crush on Aaron Carter, and how I used to take tap lessons…and failed spectacularly. He told me about his many attempts at getting Maggie Edmunds’ attention in middle school, even learning how to ballroom dance for the semiformal he was going to ask her to. He ended up tagging along with Iris and her date when Maggie brutally turned him down in front of their entire class.
We shared the same favorite color, blue. Although mine was the cerulean shade of his eyes, while his was navy. Pizza was a similar obsession in our lives, but he preferred chicken wing pizza to my veggie lovers. But I wouldn’t waste a slice of chicken wing if he put one in front of me.
His love for coffee was identical to mine of chocolate, and I momentarily wondered how much money I’d need to spend on a coffee maker for my apartment in case he’d stick around. But I quickly wiped the thought away, worried I’d jinx us before it went further.
“Mashed Potato loves her new toys,” I told him, leaning my elbows on the table.
“I’m glad to hear.”
“You don’t need to bribe her.” I sighed. “She likes you enough already.”
He studied me, pushing his empty plate away. “Does she now?”
I nodded.
“And you?”
“I like the chocolate you sent,” I answered, grinning.
He laughed. “I see how it is. How about that stuffed animal I promised you?”
Caleb won me a black stuffed cat. It had white paws and a pink button nose, and when he asked me what its name was, I frowned. It’d been a long time since I named my stuffed animals.
He declared his name was Boots, tapping the white paws in explanation. I held it tighter, smiling into the soft fur. He nudged me with his elbow, playfully trying to steal it from my grasp.
Giggling, I swatted him away. “Stop! Boots is mine!”
“Aha! So, you like the name.”
I rolled my eyes. Playfully of course.
We stopped in front of the Ferris wheel, he was staring at me in question. “No,” I said plainly.
“Oh, come on.”
Shaking my head, I stepped back. “Nope. I am not going on that-that thing. Do you know how many people die from falling off fair rides?”
He glanced at the lit-up death trap doubtfully. “It’s just the Ferris wheel. Do you really think I’d let you get hurt?”
I scoffed. “What can you do if it breaks apart? We’d both die. Plus, I doubt we can take prizes on the rides.”
“And why not?”
I dug for a reason. “There are only two people per cart. So…”
He tried hiding his smirk behind his hand but failed. I saw it. “Boots is a stuffed animal, Paisley.”
I popped my lips.
He angled his body toward me. “I promise that it won’t kill us. We’ll go on, have fun, and then we can do something else.” He checked his watch. “I think they’re doing fireworks in twenty minutes. It’ll be a good time killer until then.”
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, watching the wheel spin with the current riders. They seemed to be having fun, but I still wasn’t convinced. Watching them made me a little queasy.
“We don’t have tickets,” I reminded him in a last-ditch effort to worm my way out of it.
“We can pay at the front of the line.”
Damn.
“Is it about heights?"
My lips parted, then closed.
He reached out and wove our hands together, our fingers linking tightly. “I’m terrified of snakes.”
I looked at our hands, heat warming my body when he squeezed our fingers. “Why would you tell me that?”
He shrugged. “Felt like it was only fair that you knew something I was afraid of. I also hate when it gets dark.”
Blinking, I peered over his shoulder at the ride. It was slowing down, ready to get a new batch of people in its clutches. It was almost eight thirty, which meant the rides would be shutting down soon. It was now or never.
“We have time,” I relented, gesturing toward the wheel. The way his eyes lit up made my not-so-irrational fear seem worth it. Unless we died. Then I’d have to haunt his ass for eternity.
It wasn’t until we were seated, the bar laid across our laps, when my heart raced erratically. The white-knuckle grip I had on the handle made Caleb chuckle, putting his palm on the top of my hand.
“Deep breaths,” he directed.
I forced myself to take a rough breath in, loosening my death grip slightly.
“You’ve got to breathe out,” he mused, showing me how it’s done. I sat back and looked around. Everybody else was laughing like they weren’t at risk of falling to their death.
“This was a bad idea.”
“You’re fine.”
The ride started moving, causing me to yelp as we lifted off the ground. Cursing under my breath, I went back to gripping anything within distance of my grabby hands.
Caleb eased my hand from his thigh, holding it loosely on his lap. It caused me to shift my focus from the night sky around us to where we touched.
“I served two tours in Iraq,” he told me, staring off into the sky. His voice was calm. “The first time me and my buddies were proud to be representing our country, you know? We didn’t know what we were getting into. By the second tour, half of those guys were either dead, medically discharged, or so fucked up in the head that they weren’t mentally there.”
My body eased into the seat, no longer worried about the ride.
His eyes were distant, cloaking himself in his memories, his voice shifted deeper when he sunk into them. I wasn’t sure if he knew he was gripping my hand tighter than before, or that his body was suddenly tense.
With my free hand, I brushed his forearm. He seemed to snap out of it, looking down at me with hollow eyes.
“What happened?”
“It’s hard to talk about,” he whispered.
I nodded in understanding.
“Some guys come back and brag about everything that happened, but they were the ones who never saw the real action. They should be grateful. The things that happened were awful, Paisley. They can screw a guy up. It’s…it’s worse at night when you have time to think about it—remember it.”
“Is that why you don’t like the dark?”
Pressing his lips together, he nodded. “I used to have nightmares, post-traumatic stress issues, but they’ve gotten better with time.”
I wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how.
He blew out a breath, raking his hand through his hair. “Sorry. I don’t usually talk about it. Not great first date material.”
“You should talk about it.”
He rested his head back, watching me through the corners of his beautiful blue eyes. We stayed like that, focused on each other. The outside noise faded as I felt the cool breeze caress my cheeks.
His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, mine matching the pace. I didn’t want to push him for more, but I also didn’t want him hurting. We all had demons, but not all of us deserved to bare them.
“Look,” he said quietly, after a long moment.
We both looked forward taking in the scene around us. The wheel was lowering back down, giving us one last chance to see the layout of the fairgrounds from way up in the clouds. The lights from the other rides lit up the darkness, which made me smile at the display of flashing yellow, green, and pink glittering across Caleb’s face.
Fairs used to be my favorite part of summer, but I stopped going when I started college and began working two jobs. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
“Thanks for this, Caleb.”
“Anytime”
I swallowed.
“Paisley?”
I stared at him.
“Go out with me again.”
I laughed. “Shouldn’t you be asking that later?”
His hand was warm as it squeezed mine, the rough pads of his fingers jumpstarting my heart as they started moving in circular motions.
“Just say yes.”
I didn’t have to think about my answer this time.
“Yes.”