The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  My mouth is dry as I ask, “What did you say?”

  He grins, his eyes lighting up. “Well, I was twelve years old, and I didn’t really have a fucking clue what he was trying to tell me. He’d just hugged me, and I always felt better when my grandpa hugged me. But I knew he was talking about living, and I definitely wanted to do that. And I wanted to make him happy. So, I got on the plane. And it was the best decision I’ve ever made. I copiloted the fuck out of that plane, and I loved it.

  “If I hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t be the man I am today. I wouldn’t have the businesses I have. My airplanes wouldn’t be flying millions of people all over the world to exotic locations. And I wouldn’t have met you, and I wouldn’t be sitting here next to you on this ride, helping you conquer this fear. My choice to conquer my fear brought me to this moment. It brought me to you.”

  Sweet Jesus.

  There’s a lump the size of this roller coaster stuck in my throat. Out of nowhere, I feel tears start to creep in. I blink away from him and turn my face forward as I close my eyes.

  I feel Liam’s body move closer, his shoulder pressing to mine.

  “Open your eyes, Boston.” His breath brushes over the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

  I take a deep breath, making sure I’m not going to bawl like a little girl, and I open my eyes to see that we’ve stopped.

  And we’re at the top of the roller coaster track.

  I can see the whole of London from up here. The sun is setting in the distance, and the sight is incredibly beautiful—just like Liam.

  My eyes sweep the view, looking at the dusky pink and orange glow from the sun, as the last remnants of it brush over the tops of the buildings, like an artist’s paintbrush. And below, the streetlamps are coming on, and lights inside the buildings are turned on.

  It looks like a painting. A beautiful painting.

  “You were right,” I whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Liam’s free hand touches my cheek, turning my face to his. He presses his lips to mine. Then, he slides his lips over my cheek and says into my ear, “He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.”

  I tilt my head back a touch to look in his eyes. “You’re quoting Aristotle to me?” I grin.

  An impressed look flashes through his eyes. “Boston, I’m as smart as I am good-looking, which is extremely, in case you had any doubt.”

  “Nope. Never doubted that for a second.” I shake my head, a smile still fixed on my lips.

  “So”—his eyes leave mine to look over the view—“do you feel free right now?”

  “Yeah,” I exhale. “I guess I do.”

  “Good. You’re about to feel a whole lot freer—”

  His words are cut off by the loud screams around us as the roller coaster plunges forward at breakneck speed.

  Actually, I think I might have broken my neck. Not that I can feel anything or move.

  My head is stuck to the headrest. My hair is plastered back to my head. The wind is rushing in my ears along with screams of delight from other riders, and I’m pretty sure my stomach is still at the top of the ride.

  And even though I’m terrified out of my mind and I just realized that those screams I hear are actually coming from me…even with all of that, my heart feels light.

  And that’s because of the man sitting beside me. The man who is still holding my hand, just like he promised he would.

  With some effort, against the g-force, I manage to turn my head to look at him.

  Liam’s stare is on me, and he’s smiling and laughing. Probably because I’ve been screaming like a little girl.

  Even still, my heart squeezes in my chest at the sight of him laughing.

  I smile back at him—at least, the best I can with my lips that have been g-forced to my face.

  I feel happy and free. I feel alive.

  The shock of those words reverberates around inside me. Like a ball spinning around a moving roulette wheel.

  I feel alive.

  For the first time in a really long time, I feel alive.

  And it’s because of him.

  I’m smiling and laughing and doing something that scares the crap out of me.

  I’m living because of Liam.

  And that thought alone brings with it a whole new brand of fear in me. A fear that terrifies me in a way that I have never known before.

  “You really suck at this.” I laugh, putting cotton candy in my mouth—or candy floss, as they call it here.

  Liam bought it for me when we passed the last food booth. I needed sugar. The choice of cotton candy was blue or pink or both. I chose both. I’ve already eaten all the blue. I’m onto the pink now, which is pretty close to my hair color.

  I lick the cotton candy off my sticky fingers.

  Liam gives me a dirty look. “If you think you can do any better, then, by all means, try.” He holds out a ball to me.

  He’s playing a game called Knock ’Em Down, which is basically nine cans stacked up into a pyramid—four at the bottom, three in the middle, and two on the top. You have to knock the cans down by hitting them with a ball, and if you knock off the two top rows, you win a medium prize. Knock all the cans down, and you get a big prize.

  Sounds simple, huh? Apparently, it’s not.

  I’ve sat this game out, so I can eat my cotton candy.

  But we played darts and Bull’s Eye, which is basically archery and you had to hit the bull’s-eye to win. And we played a shooting game where you have a pellet rifle and you have to hit a playing card with a pellet. I was especially bad at that.

  But, so far, we haven’t won a thing, and I really want a stuffed animal. Something to keep. A keepsake of this day with him.

  But then what’s the point? It’s not like I’ll get to keep it for long.

  Even still, I want one.

  Tucking my sad thoughts away, I put my bag of cotton candy under my arm and hold my hands up. “My hands are sticky from the cotton candy.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  I stick my tongue out at him.

  “Your tongue is blue from the candy floss.” Liam chuckles.

  I lean in close to him and whisper into his ear, “Well, if you’re a good boy and win me a prize, I’ll lick your cock with my blue tongue.”

  I lean back a little, staring into his eyes, which are currently dark and lusty.

  “Deal,” he growls, sending shivers hurtling through me.

  I move back to my standing spot and watch him get back to the game.

  He picks up a ball and throws it. Hits the edge of a can, but it doesn’t go down.

  Guess he doesn’t want a blow job.

  “I’m sure these cans are fucking glued down,” he says in a low growly voice, making me laugh.

  “I don’t think they are. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. You just have a weak arm, Hunter, and your aim sucks.”

  That earns me a dirty look.

  I love winding him up. Seeing him flustered and off his game like this…it’s fun.

  “You seriously used to play rugby in college?” I tease.

  Liam told me that he used to play rugby. It was how he broke his nose—twice apparently. Men and sports—I’ll never understand it.

  “How did you ever manage to throw a touchdown?”

  “You don’t have touchdowns in rugby.” He grits his teeth, so his words come out in single syllables. “It’s called a try, and the position I played, was Winger, and it mostly required me to run fast and score a try.”

  “Good job. Otherwise, you’d have lost a lot. Did you lose a lot?” I grin.

  He flips me the bird. I laugh.

  He exhales through his nose, which makes him sound like an angry bull. That makes me laugh harder.

  Ignoring me, he pivots and sets up to throw his last ball.

  He’s managed to knock the top two off, so he only has seven more cans to go.

  Seven cans and one ball. I d
on’t see it happening, but if he manages to knock the next three off, he’ll win a prize—meaning, I win a prize.

  Thing is, he only has one ball left, and his aim is appalling.

  Sheer concentration is on his face.

  Leaning over, I tilt my head to the side in front of him.

  “What?” he grumbles without looking at me.

  “You’re totally pulling your sex face right now.”

  He frowns. “I don’t have a sex face.”

  “You so do. Just as you’re coming, your face looks…well, just like it does right now.” I gesture a hand to his face.

  “Stop trying to put me off with sex talk. Back the fuck off, Boston, and let me throw my ball.”

  I splutter out a laugh. He almost cracks a smile.

  “Sorry. Please continue.” I flutter a hand at him and move away.

  His sex face is back. I stifle a giggle.

  Liam draws his arm back and throws.

  And misses.

  I clamp my hand over my face to stop from laughing.

  He’s scowling at me. “That was your fault.”

  I move my hand from my mouth. “How was that my fault?”

  “You talk about sex, and I get distracted.”

  “Okay.” I give a contrite look. “Have another turn. My treat.”

  “So, you can take the piss out of me. No thanks.”

  “Aw, come on. I want a stuffed animal.”

  “I’ll buy you one.”

  I give him a look of disgust. “You can’t bring a girl to a carnival and then buy her a stuffed animal. You have to win it.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he growls. He sticks his hand in his pocket and slaps a bill on the counter. “Another go,” he tells the guy behind the stall, who is only happy to take Liam’s money.

  The guy picks up the bill and places three balls on the counter in front of Liam.

  “I said I’d pay.” I frown.

  He won’t let me pay for anything. It’s seriously annoying.

  “You pay for the game, and it’s like you’re winning the prize yourself.”

  Fair point.

  “So, you are actually going to win me a stuffed animal?”

  He ignores me, which oddly makes me smile.

  I put the last of my cotton candy in my mouth and deposit the wrapper in a nearby bin. Then, I go sit up on the counter beside where Liam is standing, angling my body, so that I can watch him throw the balls.

  Liam picks up his first ball and gets read to throw. His sex face is back on—sorry, his face of concentration. I hold in a laugh and watch him throw it.

  He knocks off the top two.

  “Yay!” I clap my hands although I don’t know why I’m excited because he managed that last time.

  He picks up his second ball, and wasting no time, he throws. He knocks off two of the three cans on the second row.

  My cheer is louder this time.

  He looks at me, a prideful glint in his eyes.

  Picking up his last ball, he takes aim and throws.

  He manages to knock off the last can on the second row.

  “Any prize off this bottom row,” the guy tells us, walking away to a waiting customer.

  “You did it!” I jump down off the counter and wrap my arms around his neck. “You won me a prize!”

  “Thank fuck.” His arms wrap around me. “I was starting to worry for a moment there. Felt like I was losing my man card.”

  I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his lips. “Never. And thank you.” I tip my head back to look into his face.

  His hands slide down my back to my ass, and he gives it a squeeze. “Go pick your prize, Boston.”

  Leaving Liam, I head back to the counter and lean over, looking at the bottom row of prizes. I see all kinds of crap here, including really cheap-looking stuffed animals and dolls.

  I definitely do not want a doll. They freak me out.

  Then, I spy this sad-looking odd toy. Reaching over, I grab it.

  Liam comes up behind me as I right myself. His chest is pressed to my back. “Is that a…fucking knitted jellyfish?”

  I turn my head to look up at him. He’s squinting at the toy I’ve picked up.

  I look back down at it in my hands, and I think he’s right. It is a knitted jellyfish toy. “I think so.”

  It’s white and pink and looks like a little princess jellyfish. And the more I look at it, the cuter it becomes…in a weird knitted jellyfish way.

  “She looks like a jellyfish princess,” I say.

  “It looks like a piece of shit.”

  “Hey! You’ll hurt her feelings.” I jab him in the arm. Then, I hug her. “I shall call her Squishy, and she shall be mine.” I laugh, meeting Liam’s blank expression. “Finding Nemo? No?” I say.

  Liam slowly shakes his head, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Okay, makes sense. You were probably too old to watch it when it first came out—you know, when I was still in diapers and you were out serenading teenage girls with the Backstreet Boys—hey!” I squeal when he digs me in the ribs with his fingers. “We’ll watch Nemo later, and then you’ll get the reference.”

  I turn to the guy. “I’ll take Squishy,” I tell him, holding the stuffed animal up.

  “Okay, what’s next?” I hook my arm through Liam’s, holding Squishy to my chest.

  “Hook a Duck.”

  “Hook a what?” I give him a confused look.

  “Duck.”

  “And what’s Hook a Duck?”

  “You don’t know what Hook a Duck is?” Liam looks appalled.

  “No…but I feel like I should.”

  “You should.”

  “What’s so special about it?”

  “Well, nothing special per se, but it’s like a rite of passage. Every kid plays Hook a Duck when they come to the fair.”

  “Hate to break it to you, Hunter, but we’re not kids.”

  “Maybe not. But it’s your first time at a fair in England, and you have to play.” Liam grabs my hand and sets off, I assume, in search of this Hook a Duck game.

  We find one a few minutes later, and it’s closed. All shut up with the tarpaulin covering the booth.

  “It’s closed. Never mind,” I say to him.

  I start to walk away, but Liam tugs me back by the hand he’s holding.

  “Like a little thing like it being closed is going to stop us from playing.”

  He gives me a grin and drops my hand. I watch as he unhooks the tarpaulin at the bottom and lifts it just enough so that he can sneak in underneath it.

  “Hunter, what are you doing?” I hiss.

  He ducks his head back out. “Come on,” he whispers, holding the material up for me to go under.

  “I’m not going in there.”

  “Yes you are. Now hurry the fuck up, or you’ll get me arrested for breaking into a Hook a Duck tent,” he whispers.

  “Ugh,” I complain.

  I do a quick look around to make sure no one is watching, and then I duck under. Liam drops the tarpaulin, and we’re inside the Hook a Duck tent. Thankfully, there’s a dim light on in here otherwise it’d be pitch black.

  “Okay, so we’re in here. Now what?”

  “Now, you hook a duck.” He grins and picks up a stick that has a wire hook on the end. He points to what can only be described as a fake pond in the middle of the stall with rubber duckies floating around it.

  “So, that’s it? I just use this stick and hook a duck on it.”

  “Well, yeah.” He gives me a stupid look. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

  “Sure it’s not.” I snatch the stick from him.

  Liam leans against the edge of the fake pond and folds his arms, watching me. “Go on then. Hook a duck, Boston.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head. I put my bag on the floor and set Squishy on top of it. Then, I hover my stick over the water.

  I try to catch one of the little fuckers—I really do—but they’re moving a lot quicke
r than I realized, and they’re all bumping into each other, knocking the others away.

  I nearly catch one, but another bumps into it and knocks the fucker away from my hook.

  “Little bastard,” I hiss.

  Liam laughs. “You can’t call a duck a bastard.”

  “It’s not a real duck.” I give him a look. “Aha! Got one!” I proudly lift my stick with the duck hanging on the end of it. “So, now what?”

  “What do you mean, now what?”

  “I mean, now what happens?”

  “Nothing. That’s it. Well, you win a prize, but considering that we broke in here, taking a prize would be stealing.”

  “Oh.” I take the duck off the stick, stand the stick against the pond, and set the duck on the small ledge below. “Well, it just feels kind of…anticlimactic now.” I lean against the pond next to him.

  “Anticlimactic, huh? How about I make you feel climactic?”

  I turn my face, meeting his gaze, and see the desire right there in his eyes. “Here?” I whisper.

  “You wanted to have sex outside. It’s on your list.”

  “Yeah, but this is hardly outside. We’re in a tent filled with a fake pond, rubber ducks, and cheap toys.”

  “Well, I’ve always wanted to fuck before an audience.” He gives me a sexy smile. Putting his hand on my thigh, he slides it upward, taking my dress with it.

  “You’re not a stranger. I said I wanted to fuck a stranger.”

  He leans his face down to mine. His breath is burning over my lips, and I’m suddenly in dire need of his kiss.

  “So, pretend I’m a stranger.”

  I lift my eyes to his. “So…just pretend like I don’t know you?”

  “Mmhmm.” He brushes his lips over mine, softly, teasingly. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. We’re two strangers with insane chemistry that we need to fuck out.”

  I graze my lip with my teeth.

  Next thing I know, he’s in front of me, pulling me against his body and kissing me, hard.

  I wind my fingers into his hair, gripping, as his tongue explores my mouth.

  He steps forward, moving me back against the pond. His hand comes up my side to cup my breast.

  “The rubber duck is jabbing me in the ass,” I whisper against his mouth.