Page 51 of Tempting the President
I don’t think I care to repeat it though. And kiddo – I’m warning you. You must never ever grow up to be a biker, okay? Bikers are jerks.
Love, Your Big Sis
HE BROUGHT ME TO DISNEYLAND. A darn amusement park. Because the jerk wanted to make me speak. Scream. Anything to have him hear my voice.
When the rollercoaster screamed to a stop, Kellion turned to me with a grin.
If I could, I would have barfed on him, just to get my revenge.
When we were back on the ground, Kellion asked cheerfully, “What do you want to ride next?”
I raised my foot and stepped on him hard. That was my answer.
He grunted in pain, but amusement twinkled in his green eyes. He looked around us, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Fearing that he was looking for another death-defying ride to take me to, I tugged on his sleeve. When he glanced down at me, I wrote on my board and showed it to him.I’m hungry.
It was a total lie, and the way Kellion smirked at me, he knew it, too. “I’ll feed you—-”
I started to sigh in relief.
“—-if you let me feed you.”
I ended up scowling instead.No.
Kellion rubbed his jaw. “Mmm...then what do you think we should ride—-” A tug on his sleeve had him raising a brow at me.
I showed him my board. FINE.
He took my hand, and this time I didn’t bother pulling away. It was just a waste of my effort, and that wasallit was. It had nothing to do with the way I felt secure in his hold, the way I felt hot all over every time we were connected like this.
“How fake-hungry are you?”
I wrinkled my nose.Ha-ha.
“Hotdog or cotton candy?”
I flicked two fingers out, indicating No. 2 as my choice.
Behind me, I heard a girl gasp. “I think she’s deaf and mute.”
“What a waste,” her companion muttered.
When I saw Kellion’s face harden at the words, I automatically reached for his arm. Our eyes met, and I shook my head, scribbled on my board, and showed it to him. IT’S OK.
“It’s not.”
I DON’T MIND.
For a moment, he only gazed at me. Finally, he said, “You really don’t mind, do you?”
I nodded.
His grip on my hand tightened. “Strangely, that’s what I like about you the most.” His Greek accent had thickened, almost making his words indecipherable. “I like that you don’t care about what other people think.” His lips twisted. “Even me.”
I couldn’t look at him after that, and he didn’t press the issue. We walked hand in hand towards the cotton candy stand. Around us, most of the other patrons were either young families or kids on a field trip. The few couples around were mostly tourists, and their words, made up of a dozen different languages, combined with classic Disney songs playing in the background, blended into a happy kind of cacophony by the time it reached my ears.
With the biker holding my hand, the world had become painfully vivid again. I tried not to notice it. Tried to pretend the world was still blurry, but it was impossible.
