Page 198 of Terms of Exposure
The way he smelled—clean, warm, something woodsy I couldn't place.
His smile, curving each time we locked eyes.
Stop it.
This wasn't a date.
This was two people chaperoning their disgustingly-in-love siblings.
That was all.
Ahead of us, Emma was showing Damien something on her phone, their heads bent together. He said something low, and she laughed—bright and unguarded—swatting his arm.
He caught her hand. Kissed her palm.
"Five bucks says he proposes by Christmas," Sebastian murmured.
"That's a sucker's bet."
"Thanksgiving?"
I considered it. "Halloween."
He raised an eyebrow. "Bold. I like it."
The line shuffled forward. We were almost at the front now, close enough to hear the mechanical groan of the wheel and the attendant's bored safety spiel.
"Okay, real talk." Sebastian turned to face me, expression shifting into something almost serious. "Are you actually okay with heights? Because I was joking around, but if this is genuinely going to freak you out—"
"I'm fine." I met his gaze, surprised by the concern there. "Heights don't bother me. Spinning does. Flipping does. This is just... sitting. I can sit."
He studied me for a moment longer, like he was checking for cracks.
"Okay," he said finally. "But if you need to grab my hand, I won't judge."
"How generous."
He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a giver."
The seat swayed as we entered.
Sebastian settled beside me, close enough that our thighs pressed together. The attendant checked our lap bar, gave us a thumbs up, and sent us lurching forward.
"Oh god." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"You okay?"
"Totally fine," I lied.
The wheel climbed, lifting us above the crowd. Above the noise. Above it all.
The fair spread beneath us—bright lights, winding paths, distant screams from rides I'd never touch.
And then we stopped.
Right at the top.
"What's going on?" I asked, voice pitched high.
