Page 51 of Let's Kiss and Tell

When we enter the passenger car, it’s a lot bigger than I expected. Rather than a two-seater pod, it’s shaped like a circle, large enough to fit a family of four or five. I let Lucy take a seat first and I sit across from her.

“Enjoy your ride,” the woman working says as she closes our door. A few seconds later, we start moving and Lucy waves her hand toward me.

“Sit beside me,” she says.

We have more than enough space, but it occurs to me that Lucywantsto sit next to me. Most likely to get the full effect of going on a romantic Ferris wheel date.

I inch around the seat until we’re side by side, and she loops her arm around mine. I try my best to not let the contact faze me, but then I remember this morning and how it felt to have her underneath me while she was stretching. Her unsurprisingly toned body and skin smoother than anything I’ve ever felt. The collection of tiny droplets slowly making their way deep into the crevice between her breasts sent my thoughts into a spiral that I’m embarrassed to admit.

“It’s beautiful,” I hear Lucy say under her breath.

Ahead, the horizon begins to look like a ripe summer peach, pinks and oranges bleeding into a soothing hue. An amber glow illuminates around us as the salty sea breeze tingles my senses. I remain concentrated on the breathtaking view of Los Angeles ahead of us, the sparkling ocean lapping at the pier. When the ride moves a few feet higher, Lucy’s fingers grip my arm.

I look down at her. “Are you afraid of heights?”

Lucy peels her gaze to mine, a sheepish smile on her face. “A little.”

“Then why are we on here?” I frown, concerned.

“Because you’ve never been,” she says, and my stomach plummets.

“Lucy, if you’re afraid of heights, we should get off when it comes around—”

“I’m fine,” she insists. “It’s not a phobia or anything, I just sometimes get nervous. Seriously, I’m okay.”

I look at her intently and she’s serious. I haven’t known Lucy very long, but I trust that she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to. So, if she’s up here, that’s her choice. Instinctively, I wrap an arm around the back of the seat, careful to not touch Lucy’s shoulders but also wanting to make her feel secure. She leans in a little until our sides are pressed against each other.

The quick banter we had back and forth all day is now at a pause. The two of us just watch the rippling of the water in the distance and the lights of the Malibu hills along the Pacific coast. It feels like mechanical, chaotic energy beneath us, but up here, Los Angeles is beautiful.

On our final round of the ride, Lucy rests her head on my shoulder. It’s brief, but I could’ve fallen asleep there if we were allowed to go around a few more times. When we get off the Ferris wheel, we walk through the rows of carnival games. We both agree to not try to win the ring toss because it’s a scam and nobody in the history of carnival games has ever won.

It seems like neither one of us wants the night to end because we continue to walk farther away from where we parked. We end up along the shoreline, the Pacific Ocean to our left. The night air has now dropped almost twenty degrees from earlier today—standard for Los Angeles, especially by the water. I give Lucy my jacket while I hold both our pairs of shoes.

“When was the last time you walked along the beach at night?”Lucy says, staring at our feet and the imprints we’re making in the sand with every step.

“It’s been years.” I try to remember. “Maybe when I first moved here. I don’t come out to the beach as much as I’d like. It always seems like a chore, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but this is nice. Maybe we should do it more often.”

I take in the feeling of sand and surf in between our toes, the crisp ocean air and the moonlight bouncing off the water’s ripples. Eventually we turn back around and ahead is the pier we were just at, now a neon spectacle in the dark.

“I had fun today,” I say.

“Me too,” she agrees softly.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

She smiles. “I just didn’t know how this would all go. I know it was my idea topretendto date, or whatever you want to call it, but I don’t know, it’s a lot easier than I thought.”

“Yeah, it is,” I say, and we continue walking.

She looks my way, her eyes lingering a beat too long. “Remember when you asked me why I write about sex?”

I remember every conversation with Lucy. Every moment, every laugh, every touch. Everything.

“Mhm,” I say.

She pulls on the sleeves of my jacket so they’re covering her hands. “Can I tell you something not a lot of people know?”