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“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Vigorously shaking his head, he finishes the remnants of the flask, following with a satisfied moan. “Now, you wanted to have fun. Have fun with me.” He grabs my hand, taking the monkey and placing it on the ground, bringing me closer to his body and leading me into a waltz, right in the middle of the amusement park while he sings Barry Manilow’s Can’t Smile Without You. It’s corny, cheesy, yet perfect at this moment.
“You’re crazy.” I laugh as he dips me. “Who would have thought you were a closet Barry lover?”
“And you’re beautiful. Just for tonight, be crazy with me.”
I laugh again, spinning around. “There, crazy enough for you?”
He shakes his head, determined for me to let loose and be wild. “You can do better than that.”
I look around us. There’s a bumper car lot on the right, but bumper cars aren’t exactly living on the edge. In front, are a few kiddie rides, and beside them, a spinning octopus. It isn’t the ride that catches my attention, it’s the crazy adventure house beside it, standing tall, oddly-shaped mirrors in front with stairs and a spinning circle on top. It reminds me of the movie Grease when Sandy gets her groove on at the end.
“Okay, you want crazy? I’ll give you crazy.” I pull his hand, leading him to the adventure house.
The mirrors show our reflection as we walk past while our bodies morph from abnormally short and fat to tall and skinny. We both laugh at ourselves, moving inside where the ground becomes uneven, and it’s incredibly dark. The moonlight provides limited light, but I don’t care. My adrenaline is high, something that often happens whenever I’m around him.
My hands clutch onto his shirt, pulling his body to mine, allowing me to bring his lips closer. The beat of my heart quickens while his lips warm mine and taste so goddamn good.
“I don’t know what it is when I’m with you…” I breathe between kisses, lost in this man who’s consumed me in a way I’ve never experienced, “… you’re so—”
“Bad?”
“Yes,” I pant.
“And I’m nothing like you’ve ever had.”
“Yes,” I repeat, running my hands through his hair.
The warmth of his lips leaves mine, his body now distant with a bitter smile. “I thought you were different.”
The loss of contact leaves me uneasy. It takes me a moment to respond. “What kind of a question is that?”
“It’s not a question,” he responds, flatly.
Adjusting my dress that hitched up during our heated kiss, I straighten my posture, trying to get a hold of myself. “Maybe I should go.”
“I thought you were different.”
“What does that even mean? Different from who? Okay, so I love to read and would rather spend my night playing Monopoly. This isn’t my scene tonight. So, I’m different, who cares? The world needs different. Not everyone can be like you and Emerson.” The words come out harsh, not at all as I intended. I’m frustrated we’re even having this conversation when a minute earlier I was caught up in the best make-out session I’ve ever had.
“Do you think you’re the first girl who’s called me bad and told me I’m like no other man you’ve been with?”
“No…” I trail off, pausing. “But it’s the truth. You’re bad… for me. Every part of me says not to be with you. You will hurt me, and I’ll end up with a broken heart and have to move back home because I can’t deal with the shame. You’re not like any man I’ve been with. The last four years I’ve spent with Liam. Liam’s caring. He’s kind. He doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.”
“And I’m none of those things,” he answers, smugly. “I don’t fucking care about anyone, right?”
“What do you want me to say?” I throw my hands up with frustration. “I can’t seem to win. If you want the truth, this is it. You’re not Liam. You’re Wesley. The guy who’s gotten on my nerves and crawled under my skin. The same guy I haven’t stopped thinking about every day since that day in the café. The same guy I’ve fantasized being with not because he’s bad but because he does something to me, this butterfly sick-to-the-stomach feeling. The thought of your hands all over me makes me want to throw all caution to the wind and live for this moment.”
“I’m right here,” he whispers, closing the gap between us.
“I know you are.”
The tip of his finger runs down my cheekbone and across my bottom lip. My eyes close—focusing on my internal sensations—controlling my breathing while his gentle touch consumes me. With a slight tilt, his mouth has found mine, the warm feeling and taste of desire find me again.
This slow, sensual pace heightens all my senses until he pushes me against the wall, slamming our bodies together, his tongue feverishly battling with mine.
I pull away to catch a quick breath, gulping for air as if my life depends on it.
“You’re bad for me.” His face is buried in my chest, kissing my skin eagerly. “Too innocent.”
