“Right this way.” I led us through the fast track lane of the ride.
“People are staring,” she said softly as we passed the waiting line.
“You’re not used to it?” I asked, then caught her flinch. “I mean because of your brother, not…Voldemort.”
“Voldemort?” She sputtered a laugh as we reached the little velvet rope.
“He who shall not be named.” I shrugged. “I figure you grew up as Caz’s sister, so stuff like this has to be pretty normal for you. Passing lines and stuff.” I wasn’t egotistical enough to think that anyone in line actually recognized me. Hell, the attendant at the front only knew because it was listed on our VIP pass request.
“Honestly, I did my best to give Caz some space, hoping he’d do the same, but he never did.” She sighed as the coaster pulled into the dock and the riders shuffled, the new ones taking the place of those who had just finished. “I don’t think he ever really got over losing me that day. Not that it was his fault, because it wasn’t.” She raised her eyebrows at me and said the words emphatically as if I’d ever question her brother’s character.
“I don’t doubt that he did everything he could to find you,” I said softly as the ride attendant checked our passes and let us through. “So, the front car can be scarier, but you might not feel as trapped since there won’t be anyone ahead of us.”
“Front it is,” she said with a nod, straightening her shoulders as we walked into the stall.
These things always made me think of herded cattle, not that I was going to say that to her. She was nervous enough. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“It’s not like you’re sticking me in a closet. I’m good.” She bounced up on her toes as the coaster pulled into dock.
“Here we go.” We shuffled in as the other parties made their way out, putting our belongings into the pocket in front of us, and then she pulled the shoulder harness down, clicking it into place.
“Am I going to fall out of this thing? It feels loose.” She pushed on the bar, her voice pitching upward a little.
“I’ve got you.” I gave it a tug and clicked it tighter, then locked myself in.
The attendant gave his little talk about keeping our arms and legs inside, and then we were off, shooting forward to begin the incline.
Click. Click. Click. The coaster started to journey upward on the track.
“You okay?” I asked, turning my head as much as I could to look at her.
“Um. Yeah. I mean. I think?” Her hands clenched at her thighs.
“You’re doing great.” I offered mine, brushing it lightly over hers, and she quickly laced our fingers, squeezing tight.
Click. Click. Click.
“What happens when we get to the top?” she asked as the breeze whipped over us, thick with September humidity.
“We fall.”
Much to my surprise, she laughed the whole way down.
Four rollercoasters, two spinning rides, and something called The Scrambler later, we finished up our lunch at a picnic table.
“I never pegged you for a funnel cake guy,” she teased as I popped the last bit of sugared dough into my mouth.
“I’ll run it off later,” I answered after I swallowed. “I’m usually way stricter about my diet during the season, but I swear, I smell one of these, and I’m powerless.”
“You like the sweet stuff, huh?” She smirked and took a sip of her lemonade.
“You have no idea.” I devoured her with my eyes, unable to help myself. Tendrils of her hair had slipped free during the rides, and her smile was even brighter than when we’d gotten here. I’d grown used to seeing her suited up or in heels at the arena, but seeing her relaxed and…touchable was twisting me into knots. I’d never been so turned on by the scent of coconut sunscreen in my whole damned life.
The straw slipped free from her lips and our eyes locked, the space between us going taut with a feeling that bordered on anticipation. It was like we’d stepped off the ride only to become the ride, steadily clicking our way to the top.
But the top of what? I couldn’t shake the memory of seeing her in Maxim’s arms.
“So, what next?” she asked, her voice sounding a touch breathless.
“Whatever you want,” I said the words slowly, and her eyes flared.
She gulped and broke eye contact, fumbling for the map of the park we’d picked up along the way. “Um. Let’s try pushing it a little,” she offered, her fingers tracing a path near the colorful designation for the picnic area.
“How far would you like to push it, London?” Shit. Even when I wasn’t trying to flirt, it came out flirty.
She pointed to a ride. “Journey to the Center of the Earth.”
“It’s inside.”