Page 74 of Fault Lines
By the time we finally stepped out, I was more than ready to stretch my legs. It hadn’t been a long drive, but something about being in his car made time move slower.
We had a long walk to the main gates, the grounds loud with early evening energy. I silently thanked myself for wearing sneakers instead of something fancier.
“I wish I could hold your hand,” Nate said, grinning at me as the crowd jostled past. “This feels like a high school date.”
I laughed. “Just friends tonight, remember?”
He sighed theatrically. “I know. But it’s going to be tough, Livi. Just so you know.”
I nudged his arm. “Same for me.” Then I stopped, turning serious. “Nate—I don’t know what’s happening here, but it scares me. I’ve never been attracted to anyone except Cam. Not ever. He was my first everything. You and me? This feels dangerous. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Nate cupped my cheek, the barest touch, and his smile softened. “Just let the cards fall where they may, Livi. If you and Cam are meant to be, that’s where you’ll land. If not… maybe we’ll see where this goes. You can’t always fight it.”
“You really believe that?” I asked, heart thumping.
He started walking again, slow and easy, and I followed.
“I do,” Nate replied, his voice soft as he pulled out his wallet and handed cash to the teenager inside the booth. He handed me my ticket, then quickly purchased his own, and we stepped through the metal turnstile together.
The smell of fried food and sugar hit me right away, and I hesitated there, just inside the gate, slightly overwhelmed. “I haven’t been to one of these since I was a kid,” I confessed.
Nate fell in step beside me. “Then you’re overdue. Hungry?”
I thought about it. “A little.”
“Me too.”
I gave him a mock glare, resisting the urge to laugh. “Of course you are.”
He winked. “What are you thinking?”
We strolled past row after row of booths, each one shouting for attention: corn dogs, pretzels, slices of greasy pizza, caramel apples. I wanted all of it and none of it at once. The choices loomed, dizzying and impossible.
Finally, I said, “Well, I can’t come to a fair and not get funnel cake, right?”
“Funnel cake it is. With fruit?”
I shook my head decisively. “Nah, let’s go old-fashioned.”
He ordered, and we found a picnic table under a buzzing string of lights. The funnel cake came out scalding, dusted with powdered sugar that sprinkled over the cardboard plate and onto our laps.
I pinched off a piece, blew on it, and let it rest on my tongue. The heat and crispy sweetness almost made me moan. I did,actually; it felt impossible not to. Nate was looking at me, his gaze so focused it was like a hand pressed to my cheek. The air between us grew thick and warm, like the sugar drifting down. I broke off another piece, cooled it, and held it out to him. He leaned forward, lips brushing my fingers as he took it from me, the brief contact so gentle and so electric I felt the touch settle somewhere deep in my stomach.
This was already getting out of hand.
We finished the funnel cake in silence, neither of us in a hurry, both watching the crowds as night rolled in and the lights glittered to life overhead. I found myself watching the families: a toddler on her father’s shoulders, a couple wrangling a trio of kids through the line for lemonade. One little girl, blonde ringlets bobbing, tugged her red balloon behind her and waved at me as she passed. I waved back, my smile fading just a little as I wondered if my own daughter, the daughter I’d never have, might’ve had Cam’s black hair or my copper-tinged blonde.
Nate caught me staring. “Where’d you go?” he asked, tracking my gaze to the family as they drifted away.
I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said.
“Did you also dream of a big family?” he pressed, gentle.
I nodded. “It was Cam’s idea, really, but… it grew on me, too. I wouldn’t mind being a mother.”
He looked at me with a kind of steady certainty. “For the record, I think you’d be a great one.”
I gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”
