Page 80 of Because I Liked A Boy
Then came bumper cars, both of us ruthless, him slamming into my side on purpose, me shrieking loud enough for people in the next row to laugh. By the end, I was breathless, cheeks aching, and he looked like he’d never had more fun in his life.
We slowed down after that—lazy rides, fried food, stolen bites of churros and greasy fries by the lake. He leaned back, sunglasses low, arm draped behind me.
“Not bad for a date, huh?”
“If your goal was to terrify me, mission accomplished,” I said.
“If my goal was to hold your hand all day and make you laugh until you can’t breathe…” His grin curved sharp. “Mission accomplished too.”
The words hit deeper than I wanted to admit.
By the time we hit the midway games, the sun was high and my stomach hurt from laughing. Hunter threw bills at the basketball stand, tattoos flexing as he spun the ball.
“Hunter, no. Nobody wins these—”
“Correction.” He swished one. Then another. Then another.
Minutes later, I was buried under the world’s biggest bunny, white fur and ridiculous pink bow.
“I can’t believe you actually—”
“Told you,” he cut in, brushing a kiss over my temple like it was nothing. “You’re carrying it the rest of the day though. Gotta protect my rep.”
“Cocky. Insufferable.”
“And yours,” he added smoothly, smirking downat me.
God help me I couldn’t argue.
We stayed until the sky melted pink. Water rides, haunted houses, neon lights buzzing across his grin. Somewhere between the teacups and another round of bumper cars, I realised my cheeks hurt from smiling.
The Ferris wheel carried us up into the sunset, the whole park glittering below. Hunter tugged me close, voice softer now. “Not bad, huh?”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered.
For a moment he just stared, like he was memorising me against the skyline. Then he kissed me slow, deep, different from the teasing touches all day. Like he couldn’t stop himself.
And when the ride creaked us back to the ground, all I could think was I don’t want this to end.
The drive home blurred into soft playlists and open windows. Hunter’s voice hummed off-key, hand warm on my thigh. Halfway back, a song I loved spilled through the speakers, one I’d hummed once weeks ago. My chest tightened when I realised he’d queued it on purpose.
“Hunter—” My voice broke, too soft.
He flicked me a glance, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Told you I pay attention, princess.”
I turned toward the window so he wouldn’t see the smile I couldn’t fight. For the first time in forever, I felt safe.
My eyes slipped closed, his hand steady on my thigh, the rumble of the engine lulling me under. I dreamed of sugar, laughter, neon lights, and the stupidbunny squashed in the backseat. A day that felt like freedom.
“Princess.”
His voice pulled me back as the truck slowed, tires crunching gravel.
“Wake up, baby.” His thumb brushed lazy circles on my leg. “We’re home.”
I straightened, blinking groggily out the window. Not Maplewood. Not my street.
A porch light glowed against dark siding, ordinary and unexpected.
