“Yes!” I throw my hands in the air. “We did it!”
I spin around and find myself face-to-face with him, close enough I could rise on my tiptoes and kiss him.
His eyes drop to my lips and I pause, then throw my arms around him instead.
“Good job,” he murmurs in my ear.
When he lets go, he takes a small step back.
I don’t want space. I want his arms around me.
“Why don’t you try it again?” He nods at the darts. “This time on your own.”
“But you’re so good at it.” I’m not ready to lose him yet.
“You just need practice,” he says.
I don’t want to push him, so I move some of my darts toward him. “We’ll take turns. But can you show me again? So I can get it right?”
“If I must,” he teases, the tilt of his mouth telling me he’s enjoying this.
I hold up another dart, and he moves close to me again. This time, instead of stepping behind me, he just touches my hand, adjusting my arm into the right position. “You’ve got this, Rossi.”
His hand brushes my lower back in a moment of encouragement, and I launch the dart toward the balloon. It’s not quite centered, but it hits the outside edge enough to pop it.
“See?” He holds up his hand for a high five, and when our palms connect, he doesn’t let go right away.
“Okay, you’re up next.” I hand him the pile of darts. “I really want to win this dolphin.”
“We’ll do it together.” He pays the carnival worker for a ridiculous number of rounds.
We spend the next twenty minutes throwing darts and wasting an obscene amount of money. By the time we earn three hundred points, he could’ve purchased five dolphins. But when we finally nail that last target, I jump up and down.
“We did it!” I yell. “We scored the dolphin!”
He picks me up, swinging me around in a circle. “You did it,” he says in my ear, sending electricity through me.
“Thanks to your help,” I add with a soft laugh, dizzy from the spinning, and the sugar, and the way he’s touching me. “I couldn’t have done it without a good coach.”
He grins. “You only needed a little help.”
“No, I’m serious. We make a good team, you and I.” The words slip out before I think about them.
He goes quiet for a moment. “Yeah, we really do.”
TWENTY-THREE
Scarlett
“Which stuffed animal do you want?” the carnival worker asks.
I step away from Brendan, which is probably for the best, given how my heart is reacting to him.
“The biggest dolphin you have.” I point to the giant stuffed animal in the corner.
The dolphin is obnoxious—nearly four feet tall—but Brendan is kind enough to carry it as we walk through the carnival aisles.
“How about we go on a ride next?” I suggest, taking the last bite of the elephant ear.