“I’m scared,” I admit, swallowing down a lump in my throat.
Holt turns back to me and smiles. His eyes are sweet and begging me to trust him. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” And I believe him when he says this, even though my insides are screaming at me to run far away from this Ferris wheel. I remember my dad begging me to ride it with him, telling me I could see for miles from the top. After all these years, I still struggle with the regret of many things I didn’t do or never got to do with my father.
So today, I will ride the Ferris wheel with Holt—for my dad.
Holt stands in line to pay for our tickets, and I step away, trying to calm myself with deep, cleansing breaths. I can’t let him see me have a breakdown over a Ferris wheel, even though it’s highly likely to happen.
“Saige,” I hear him call to me. “Saige.”
I turn around and find him waiting for me. I take in Holt Hamilton from a distance, and my heart flutters. That kind of flutter that happens when you have your first crush, except I’m not in third grade anymore, and we’re not passing notes in class. He’s my boss.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, forcing myself to be brave, and my feet finally move. “As I’ll ever be.” I rub my hands together nervously, and he snakes his arm around my lower waist, pulling me closely to him.
We slowly make our way to the front of the line where a car waits for us. Holt holds my hand, helping me in. I slide onto the bench seat and grip the edge on either side of my legs.
“You’re fine,” he says calmly as he sits next to me. The small door closes, and I hear the lock latch. “Give me your hand.” He pulls my hand into his and laces his fingers through mine. The car moves slowly up before suddenly stopping to let the car below fill with occupants.
This process repeats until I’m nearly on the brink of tears. We get higher and higher, and with each stop, the rocking of the car has me nearly ready to vomit.
“Saige, just breathe,” Holt says, turning toward me. He taps my knee, and I turn toward him. His crystal blue eyes are sympathetic, and he smiles softly at me. “I want you to enjoy this.”
Ha. Funny. “I kind of feel like I’m going to throw up.” I glance at him out of the corner of my eye before snapping them closed again. “So if puking is fun for you, then yes, this a blast!”
He laughs at me, that kind of laugh where he tips his head back and places his other hand on his stomach kind of laugh. It’s deep and innocent, and hard not to laugh in response. “You’re not going to throw up.”
“Well, if I do, it’s landing on you.” I open my eyes long enough to give him the stink eye while fighting back a smile. But when we climb even higher, I close my eyes. My knees begin to knock together, and I squeeze Holt’s hand so hard it has to be numb.
“Saige, open your eyes. It’s beautiful up here.”
“I can’t.” Even my voice is shaking.
“You can. I promise you, you don’t want to miss this.”
“Holt . . .”
“I dare you, Saige. I dare you to open your eyes and look.” There it is again, the dare.
With my eyes still closed, I bite my bottom lip. “Why do you use those words against me?”
He’s silent for a moment, processing. “I would never dare you to do something I believe would hurt you, and I’ve learned that you have a really hard time saying no to a dare.” I can actually hear his smile. I sigh loudly and crack my right eye, barely enough to see through my eyelashes. “There you are,” he says, and squeezes my hand back. “Look.” He points. “Lake Michigan.”
I turn my head and, without thinking too much, I open my eyes fully. The lake is full of beautiful sparkling blue water, and the sun bounces off the small waves, making the lake look like it’s full of diamonds.
“It’s beautiful,” I admit before turning back to Holt.
“It’s breathtaking,” he says, looking at me with his eyes that match the color of Lake Michigan below. Gorgeous sapphire blue eyes stare at me and I nod in agreement. “It is.”
His expression is tender. “Not the lake, Saige. You.”
I blush with his admission and drop my eyes to my right hand, which is still cocooned in his. I take a deep breath. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’m not sure I ever would’ve done this without you.” That’s not true. I definitely would not have done this without him.
“You’re welcome,” he says quietly as he looks over my shoulder and out at the blue sky we’re floating in. My dad always tried to get me on the Ferris wheel, but I just couldn’t do it. My heart flutters a little when I think about Holt Hamilton finally pushing me out of my comfort zone and getting me on this damn ride.
“But we’re never doing this again,” I mumble.
He roars with laughter and I can’t help but laugh in return. “Deal,” he says and squeezes my hand.