Page 8 of Smoke and Mirrors
“How so?” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I stood from the wall, allowing my fingers to slide down his arm to his hand.
“The winner choses what ride we go on afterward,” he smirked, threading his fingers through mine as he followed. “Loser sucks it up and deals.”
“Hah! Joke’s on you, I love crazy rides,” I declared. “Maybe I’ll lose on purpose so you can give me all your spoils,” I added with an exaggerated batting of my eyelashes.
“No way.” He pointed at a balloon and darts booth up ahead. “That unicorn is mine.”
“Yours or Rinna’s?” I giggled. The plush unicorn on display was the size of a large dog, with a long golden horn and a rainbow-colored tail and mane.
“Mine,” he repeated in mock seriousness before a smile cracked his face. “But will probably end up hers.”
“Don’t worry if you lose, I’ll win it for you,” I teased as we stepped up to the booth.
“Aren’t you a little fox,” he shot right back, his fingertips grazing my waist and lower back as he approached the attendant to pay.
It was the first time I heard anything resembling a nickname from him, and the touching only made me hyper aware of that word’s implications.
“I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing, coming from you.”
He caught me in that golden gaze as I’m sure many prey animals had been before. I felt captured, frozen to my spot, but not afraid.
“Good for you. Bad for me.”
“Why’s that?”
He handed cash to the booth attendant and accepted a handful of darts in return.
“Because a clever fox can drive a wolf crazy.”
4
MELODY
Despite several tries, neither of us won the unicorn.
“I bet all of these games are rigged,” I muttered as we walked away in defeat, both of our wallets much lighter without anything to show for it.
“Just ‘cause they don’t traffic shifters doesn’t mean they’re saints,” Hunter chuckled.
We tried a few different game booths, losing badly at every one. The ring toss attendant felt bad enough that he gave us consolation prizes— toy squirt guns, which Hunter and I had too much fun chasing and shooting each other with.
After a few minutes of playfully squirting each other, I asked if we could call a truce. Hunter agreed. And then I stuck my gun under his shirt to blast his bare skin.
“Ah! This is what I’m talking about, you little fox,” he growled playfully as I darted away cackling.
He got me back just as badly— wrapping a long arm around my waist, holding my back against his chest while his other hand disappeared under the hem of my tank top. I barely had time to register how much of him was touching me when I felt the plastic nozzle against my bellybutton and the icy blast that followed.
“Ahhh! I give, I give! You win!” I shrieked.
“Not falling for that again.” His warm breath fanned against my ear, his torso a solid wall of heat against my back. The contact of him against me almost distracted me from his relentless squirt gun assault until…
“Hunterrrr! It’s dripping into my underwear!”
He released me, laughing so hard he nearly fell over.
“Say that louder. I don’t think the whole carnival heard you,” he gasped before bursting into laughter again.
Meanwhile I waddled around in a circle, bending over in front and trying to look behind to see if I appeared to pee myself.
