Page 55 of From Square One

Hesitantly, I bring my other hand up to cup his slender face, my pinkies latching under his jaw. He watches dazedly, like he fears this might be a dream. A shimmering sheen of water glasses his eyes. I want him to blink and let them trickle down his face, so I can brush them away like he brushes mine. But I guess we’re similar in that regard.

I don’t have to cry, so I won’t.

He told me I don’t have to hide my emotions. But he has a wall of his own. It’s different from mine, built from feigned confidence rather than feigned apathy. Whereas I stubbornly bury things with a level face and flat voice, he brushes them away with a grin and an airy wave. We’re the same.

Have I ever told him he doesn’t have to hide in front of me?

“There are some things I’m not sure about—like moving in with you, leaving my family, enrolling at some random college. But I’m starting to understand how this…how we…” Embarrassment rushes through me, but I maintain eye contact, my grip firming around his face. “The point is that I’m rediscovering you. Nobody has ever put me first before, and it feels strange. But good. I thought you were trying to lure me in, but I think that’s just who you are.”

He’s barely blinking, and his familiar intensity is causing my head to spin.

“Um. So. Basically, I just like learning these things about you, and not because I’m irritated that you know more about me,” I blurt, because I can’t stop halfway. “I said there’s a gap between my mind’s reaction to you and my body’s. Spending time with you like this is closing the gap. I feel more comfortable. Maybe even safer. It’s just nice to know that if something happens, there’s someone I can call for help.”

Aaron finally moves. Only so he can spread one hand over mine, hugging it to his face. He leans into my grip like it’s his safe place.

“It’s wrong to hold you accountable for my bad decisions in the past,” I say. “I made them myself, just like Logan made his. So yeah. Just assume that when you’re talking about yourself, I want to know all the nitty-gritty details, okay? And…one more thing, while I have you.”

He waits. I swallow nervously, and say:

“I’m glad you were born, Aaron Beckham.”

Aaron exhales with a kind of force that makes me wonder just how long he’s been holding it. “Riley,” he breathes, tilting his face to press his lips into the base of my palm. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything,” I say, finally able to rip my eyes away. The Ferris wheel is rolling to a stop—the attendant is waiting to unlock our gondola door.

Aaron doesn’t give me reprieve, taking my chin and guiding it to face him. “Thank you,” he says, his thumb drifting up to graze my lips, “for making this the best hour of my life.”

I feel scarlet searing through my limbs. The moment our gate swings open, I’m flying to my feet and stumbling out of the gondola, tripping over the taller boy across from us.

“Watch it!” the feral one snaps. “Honestly, kids these days…”

“Sorry,” I squeak. “I didn’t mean to step on your boyfriend.”

“Fiancé!” he says shrilly, and I wince from his volume. “He’s my perfectly hot and sexy fiancé, thank you!”

My eyes are rolling in my head at that point, anxiety rippling through me. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the taller one says, slapping a palm over his partner’s rapidly moving mouth. Only then do I notice they’re wearing a matching set of rings. “Sorry about him. He’s not normally this much of a dick. It’s just the adrenaline from being suspended off the ground, so he’s wailing a bit—”

“I don’t wail!” the feral one wails, his voice shoving through his partner’s cupped palm. “Remove your hand or I’ll break off this engagement!”

“Do what you want. You’ll just have to propose a second time.” The taller boy nods a farewell at Aaron and me. I flee, hurling myself through the exit gates while Aaron follows at my heels, giggling.

“Hope that’s us one day,” he says brightly.

“Seriously?” I demand, still shaken. “All they did was argue and bicker.”

Aaron’s arms slink around my shoulders, and he crowds up against me from behind, arching my neck back so I have to look up. He grins and presses a fleeting kiss to my forehead. “And we don’t?”

I give him a skeptical glare, which he returns with a wink.

“Shall we continue on?” he asks. “I think we have a few minutes left in the hour.”

The sun has been completely swallowed by the horizon, leaving the glittering neon lights of the carnival to lead the way. I know I’ve wasted half a day coming here, but I can’t find the energy to be upset. Maybe it’ll hit me tonight at home where Aaron can’t distract me.

But I’m not home, and Aaron’s irises are shimmering all kinds of colors under the lights radiating from the rides, walkways, and food stands.

“Just a few more minutes,” I say quietly.