Page 65 of Ruse
“A ticket and a wait in that long line behind us,” Darcy says, saving me from the ear-splitting silence.
Maverick raises a sharp brow, his face full of humor as he looks between the two of us. “Is that so?” he asks once again, challenging me to meet his sarcasm with a snarky remark of my own.
“Not even if you were the last guy here,” I mock, before turning back around and rushing toward where the guys are hidden behind the curtain.
Darcy follows me, pulling my arms when I don’t respond to her calling my name. “Phoenix, hold on,” she says, reaching for me. “What was that all about?”
I shake my head, not wanting to go there right now. “It’s nothing, now can we please make sure the booth is running smoothly so we can get out of here.”
“Hey there girls,” Fitz calls out, stepping into the booth. Now it’s the three of us, standing in proximity inside the kissing booth.
Remember that tension I was talking about earlier, the same one Dee claims happens every time Maverick and I are near each other. Well, let’s just say it’s equally palpable at this very moment, and he’s nowhere to be found. That’s because this time the tension isn’t because of me.
“Just checking to make sure everything is good. You’re making money, being respectful, and not taking anything more than a kiss from every paying customer.”
“Scout’s honor,” Fitz says, playfully saluting me.
“You were not a boy scout,” Darcy sneers, rolling her eyes at him.
“For a whole decade darling,” Fitz replies, his gaze stuck to her like Maverick’s was just glued to mine. “Don’t make any assumptions before getting to know me.”
“I know you well enough,” she retorts, and that is my cue to get out of here. I really hope Maverick’s done the same and disappeared.
“Well, I’ll just let Darcy here check in with you. I gotta go check on the Drama Club. They’re in charge of the funhouse and I know that must be going horribly wrong.”
“Phoenix!” I hear Darcy shout after me as I sneak back under the curtain. Though what I’m not expecting, is the hard, and I mean cement hard, wall I run into as I exit. His muscular arm comes around my waist just as the scent of his dangerously delicious cologne mixed with the lingering scent of tobacco, hits me, making me delirious.
“Careful there, you might hurt yourself.” He chuckles as I take another deep breath, this time a loud moan leaves me as my hands move up his chest. His breathing turns unsteady, matching my own as my hands continue to move up his chest. I lean back slightly, my gaze meeting his, and the intensity with which he watches me, like fuel ignites the blazing fire within me.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to his neck and the way his Adam’s apple moves as he swallows, his pulse beating against the ink wrapped around his neck. I want to lick my way around it and trace every black line with my tongue.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t let me answer before dragging me off with him toward the edge of the pier where an eighty-foot Ferris wheel sits, its neon bright lights in shades of blue, green, and pink, illuminating the darkening sky. It’s the Autumnal Equinox, a day where sunlight and night are equal in length, and although the sun is merely setting on the horizon, it’s sure to get dark soon.
“I shouldn’t,” I call out as we maneuver around the crowd making our way toward the Ferris wheel.
He stops abruptly, my chest crashing into his back before he spins me around to face him. “That’s exactly why we should. Don’t think just trust me. Come with me, I promise you won’t regret it.”
I nod, unable to say anything rational, and follow him toward the line of people waiting to board the ride. This isn’t your typical fair Ferris wheel, no this is something bigger, better, more magnificent than anything I’ve ever seen. Small carts that seat at least six people, swing back and forth as they slowly rotate around the wheel, each in a different bright color. Lights flicker along the edge of the wheel in a pattern matching the beat of the music playing in the loudspeakers.
“I can’t,” I mutter but he doesn’t stop walking. “Maverick stop, I can’t.” This time I pull him back, halting him in his tracks.
Mav smirks, “What’s the matter huh, scared of being alone with me eighty feet into the sky?”
I shake my head at his cocky attitude. “Being with you has nothing to do with it. I don’t do Ferris wheels.”
“What?” he asks, confused, as if what I've said makes no sense to him.
I scoff, taking a deep breath before I confess a truth no one knows. “When we were little, my mom took us to a fair on Coney Island when we went to visit my great grandmother in New York one summer. Brooklyn and I were ten, and we got stuck at the top of the wheel for over an hour. To make matters worse, he was swinging us back and forth the entire time, while everyone down below watched shouting for him to stop. I closed my eyes for an hour straight, begging to be saved. I’ve never stepped foot on one since.”
Worry and understanding cloud his eyes, and suddenly I’m more vulnerable than I’ve ever been. It’s like I’ve just pulled the curtain that’s kept me shielded safely behind the walls boarded up around my heart, and my soul has been revealed, out in the open for him to see every flaw, every insecurity, every single fear.
“You’ll be with me. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, and his promise shouldn’t mean anything to me, but it does. So much more than it should.
The sincerity in his eyes as he takes my hand in his and leads me toward the front of the line, paralyzes me and I’m walking on air, floating along the clouds succumbing to his influence.
Mav reaches into his back pocket and hands the kid working the ride some cash, bribing our way to the front of the line. The kid lets us in as the people behind us whine and groan, but just before he allows the next group in to join us, Maverick stops him.
Reaching back into his pocket he takes out another hundred-dollar bill. “No one else rides on this one,” he orders, whispering something else I can’t hear into his ear. The kid anxiously nods, closing the gate of the cart behind us.
