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Maggie gasps. “He won the last two years.”
“You didn’t hear?” Naomi says, appearing unexpectedly beside me.
One look at her and I have to bite back a groan. She looks edible in frayed jean shorts and a purple tank top, the straps of her pink bra slipping out. I’m dying to lean in, drop a kiss to her shoulder, run my nose up her neck, but we’ve been keeping our involvement on the down low.
We’ve spent every night together the past week, but we decided to maintain boundaries. There’s been plenty of mind-blowing sex. We stay up late talking and laughing, and I cook her dinner, but we don’t do sleepovers. Aside from our continued banter at Sugar and Sips, we don’t hang out in public. I’m not sure what to expect from her here.
“What didn’t we hear?” Ricky asks while finishing his churro and licking his fingers.
Naomi steps close enough that our arms brush. “Mr. Bajwa lost his title to a thirteen-year-old.” A chorus ofnos ring out—our gossip hungry group eager for more. “Turns out,” Naomi goes on, “Jada Sims has been training her daughter, Tamisha, nonstop for, like, six months. The kid built a six-foot arrangement in record time.”
Ricky snickers. “I’d have killed to see Mr. Bajwa’s face.”
“I feel so badly for him,” Delilah says, seeming more interested in our gossip. “He works so hard at his bouquets.”
The back of Naomi’s hand grazes mine. The smallest contact, but I tune out our friends as they debate the minutiae of flower arrangements. The bustling festival fades too, all excepther—Naomi’s warm breath hitting my clavicle, her fingers tangling with mine, our bodies slowly facing each other.
“Is this allowed?” I ask quietly.
“Is what allowed?”
I drag my thumb over her palm, lacing our fingers more firmly. “Holding hands in public feels like a couple thing. We’re not exactly a couple.”
She studies our held hands, then her dark eyes lift, shimmering with something I can’t decipher. “Friends hold hands too. Wearefriends, right?”
I honestly have no clue what we are. I also don’t really care to analyze it. Not when the end results won’t change. “I believe we are. I bet friends also ride Tilt-A-Whirls together.”
Her face lights up. “Pretty sure they drive bumper cars too.”
“And ride the Ferris wheel.”
“And play the frog toss together.”
I curl my lip. “As long as no one subbed real frogs for the bean bag ones this year. I won’t abide cruelty to animals.”
She cringes. “I forgot about that disaster.”
Frogs hopping willy nilly. Townsfolk darting around to avoid stepping on the little suckers. As chaotic as that debacle was, my chest feels even more turbulent now. Flirting with Naomi like we’re a normal couple wasn’t part of today’s plan. But thisismy cheat day: eat all the sugar I want, spend frivolous money on silly games. Have a date with my casual hookup, who should stay in the casual zone.
“Since the fair is a special day,” I say, “maybe we can be more than justfriendsfor the afternoon. You know, to better experience festivities.”
She tilts her head. “Like, have an actual date?”
“Just as a one-time thing,” I say quickly. “Since you’re leaving soon.”
She nods thoughtfully, the corner of her lips quirked. “It’s not a bad idea. I mean, it’s a known fact that fairs are more fun on dates.”
“Exactly,” I say, a tad too eager. “Not taking advantage of the opportunity would be criminal.”
“It’s settled then.” She squeezes my hand tighter, almost like she hates the idea of letting go. “One fair date, to optimize the day.”
Greedy to get Naomi alone, I nod to our friends. “Catch you all later.”
Ricky scrutinizes our held hands and raises a questioning eyebrow. I give him my back and lead Naomi away. There will be an interrogation later, but I don’t have time or patience for his meddling now. I’m high on the sugar I’ve eaten. Naomi’s hand is soft and small tucked into mine, her beachy scents stronger than the sweetness filling the air.
Cheat day has taken on a life of its own.
We hit the Tilt-A-Whirl first and clamber into the two-person cart. There’s enough room to sit with space between us, but this is cheat day. I wrap my arm around Naomi, run my nose through her hair.
