Page 44 of How You See Me
Me:Wishing you were here. [check emoji]
The ride hitches into motion, crawling up the track to the first drop off. After zipping the phone safely inside my pocket, I grip the bar and force myself to enjoy the twists and dips like I would if Avawerehere.
The cars inch over the peak and the commotion around me grows louder.
“This is for you, Cupcake,” I mutter and let the thrill take me away.
Chapter 10
Josie
I’m a coward.
Hayes asked me to do one thing—step outside my norm—the very thing I asked of him, and I chickened out. Classic. If I were him, I’d tell me where to stick my self-growth speeches the next time I attempt one.
While he risks life and limb on the death trap, I keep busy wandering through gift stores. Even from inside the candy shop, I can hear the rollercoaster screeching to a stop.
My stomach twists, hoping he’s still in one gorgeous, broody piece. It would be a tragedy to mess up that masterpiece.
Every time he comes into view, it’s like someone presses a slow-motion button on just him for my viewing pleasure. The same happens with every subtle shift in hisemotions—as rare as they may be—and I can’t tear myself away from the show.
Like now, as he steps off the ride with that usual crease between his brows because he doesn’t see me right away. It’s similar to the one from the shower room last night and in line for the coaster earlier. He wears concern like a signature, and it’s fascinatingly beautiful.
I press a chocolate sample to my tongue and watch the scene unfold.
After a few seconds of waiting for me, he rises to his toes and scans the crowd, which is totally unnecessary since he towers over everyone here. He breaks through the knot of tourists, solid and determined, and I lean my weakened body against the shop’s porch to wait.
I hate how my body anticipates his proximity before my brain can process a defense. I shouldn’t be excited to see him. My heart shouldn’t stammer, and my skin shouldn't tighten in response to the simplest things—like the way his jaw ticks when he spots me standing here, pretending I didn’t break my end of our deal.
He pushes past a dad with a stroller and mutters something apologetic. Along the way, his eyes never divert from mine.
He stops in front of me, too close but not close enough, and I have to resist the urge to step right into that heat.
“Are you okay?” His voice is low, coarse with concern threaded through every syllable.
“I’m fine. I got lost in the fudge aisle.” I try to sound casual, but my heart is thrashing so loud I’m scared he can hear it. “I promise to be better next time.”
A ghost of a smile cracks through the worry. But his eyes still dart over me, checking for damage. Like I’m delicate. Like I’m his.
Great guacamole—I’d love to be. Just for a night or until I remember how to breathe without tasting him in the back of my throat.
I want his hands on me. His lips on my skin.
But he’s taking his surrogate brother role seriously, and that gooey heart of mine could be misreading all the breath-snatching moments. This one included.
“Hayes?”
“Yeah?” His gaze burrows into my soul and lights a fire there.
“How was it?” I ask, instead of anything remotely useful.
I’d wanted to be genuine. Tell him how much his concern means to me. How he challenges me in all the best ways, and how no one has ever made me feel the way he does.
But I chicken out. Again.
“The rollercoaster?”
“Yeah.”
