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"Churros," she said. "And those concerningly long hotdogs with chili fries. The carousel, that big swing thing, and maybe the Ferris wheel…if I can get over my fear of heights in the next hour or so. Do you think that's too much?"
"We have more than enough time." I nodded. "And if not, we'll come back tomorrow night. Pretty sure they're here for the next few weeks."
She raised a brow. "You'd come another night? With me?"
"Why not? That's twice the opportunity to get a soft pretzel."
Noah laughed. "We've passed at least two pretzel stands, and you haven't even glanced at one."
"I'm building an appetite," I insisted.
"Uh-huh." She smiled like she was in on a secret. We moved up a few paces as the line shortened. "So…I'm in your dreams now?" Noah tilted her head to the side as she studied me.
I bit my bottom lip as I shook my head. "Do you ever let shit go?"
She grinned. "Never. How do you think I got to Harpy?"
"Was that you emailing Tyson your portfolio every day for two years?" I whistled. "Bold move, even for you."
"What? No." Noah's eyes widened with concern. "I just did a buttload of manifesting. I'm determined, not obsessed."
"I can see you being both. I mean, you have been laser-focused on beating me for the past eight years," I reminded her.
Noah rolled her eyes. "It takes two to tango."
"Nah. I'm already on top. Defending one's spot is different than longing for it."
When we got to the front of the line, I paid for the both of us before Noah could even pull out her wallet. She gave me a soft 'thanks' before picking up her gun, and I smiled at her sudden switch from challenger Noah to shy Noah. Now that I'd seen both sides more frequently, I was starting to enjoy the dichotomy. Despite her soft features, clothes, and overall appearance, she'd only ever been hard around me. I liked seeing the range, and I desperately wanted to see every other side of her.
"How much for the bear?" Noah asked the teen manning the booth. She pointed to a lavender bear with a heart-shaped belly and a carefree, pink-stitched smile.
He had to remove his toothpick from the side of his mouth before he answered. "Ten thousand points."
Noah's mouth formed an 'O.' I did some quick calculations and figured it'll take ten rounds and twenty perfect shots to get that many points.
"Doable," I said in a more casual tone than I felt to encourage her brow to wrinkle.
"Definitely," she agreed. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she did the math.
"Ready?" the teen asked with a smile. He could already tell we were going to be there for a couple of rounds.
"I am," I said without missing a beat.
Noah nodded, not as sure but definitely just as determined. Her gaze flashed to the bear once more, and she squared her shoulders while looking at it, then took a better stance. I knew she didn’t think she’d get it, but she was going to do everything in her power to try. That's who Noah was: constantly trying to prove herself, not backing down from a challenge, even if she didn't know how to face it properly.
"Hold up one sec?" I asked the teen before he started our timer.
Noah frowned when I set down my gun and moved closer to her.
"Hold it up again," I instructed.
"What are you doing?" she asked instead of listening.
"Hold it up. I want to see your grip."
Noah made a disapproving noise.
"I'm trying to help you, hardhead." I smiled when she groaned and did as she was told for once. "Are you always this difficult, or am I just special?"
