FALSE 9: Red Card Series

by Erickson, Megan

  “Hey B,” came Dre’s deep voice from behind me.

  “Long time, no see, Bianca.” I could hear the smile in Shane’s voice.

  Her wide eyes took them in and I braced. Shit, I probably fucked up. I should have warned her. “I’m—”

  “You brought them to make me feel safer?” she asked, her expression still unreadable, and her voice carefully devoid of emotion.

  I nodded, willing my heart to stop pounding in my ears.

  Her eyes shone, and my stomach dropped. “Oh shit, Bianca—”

  She threw her arms around me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before drawing back. Her hand traveled down my arm before she linked her fingers with mine. “Thank you, guys,” she said to my roommates.

  “Of course. You’re one of us,” Shane said.

  “Anytime,” Dre added. “Coach’s family is our family.”

  “Oreos.”

  I rolled my eyes at the last voice.

  “Ma’am?” A voice called from the other side of the pen. An older woman sat on a stool, wearing overalls and a flannel shirt. She pointed to a bucket of sliced apples. “If you want to feed Brownie, you can head inside and give him some of these.”

  Bianca’s eyes lit up. She gripped my jacket without question and tugged me to the entrance of the pen. Of course I was going in with her.

  I gestured to the guys, but they didn’t follow. Dre crossed his arms over his chest. “Nah man, these Jordans cost $175. If you think I’m stepping anywhere near horse shit, you have another thing coming.”

  “They’re ponies,” Shane corrected.

  “Do ponies not shit?” Dre fired back. “Everybody poops, Castle.”

  Shane rolled his eyes and waved to me. “You go on in. It’s a small pen and we’ll just take up room.”

  I was already being dragged inside. Bianca gripped me with one hand, and in the other she clutched a handful of apples. She made a beeline for Brownie, who nickered at her. Honestly, it was cute as hell watching her feed the pony. His little lips extended, and she laughed as his whiskers tickled her palm. He crunched the apples, blinking at her from behind his floppy mane.

  There were a few kids in the pen with us, cupped hands holding brown pellets and dried corn kernels that the animals pecked at. Bianca was still baby-talking Brownie and I was trying to ignore the goat at my side that was giving me the stink eye.

  “Hey buddy,” I said, all casual-like, sizing up his little horns. “You having a good day? Nice weather, huh?”

  The goat’s nostrils flared and his ears went back, which didn’t seem like a good sign he was enjoying my company. His head bobbed, and his foot stamped. Oh shit, was he pissed? Jesus Christ, the last thing I needed was a horn up my ass.

  I leaned down, lowering my voice. “All right, let’s have a talk. Man to…goat-man. You gotta work with me here. That girl over there,” I pointed to Bianca who was feeding Brownie an apple. “I like that girl. I like her a lot. And I’m trying to show her that I’m a good guy she can depend on. You acting out and possible head butting me is going to be a bad look. I’m sure you have a little goat girlfriend back home you try to impress, right?”

  I looked him right in the eye, trying to show him I was the alpha here. I didn’t think that worked on goats, but I was desperate.

  A throat cleared. I was still bent at the waist, so I just turned my head to see Bianca standing next to me, arms crossed over her chest, amused smirk firmly in place. “Man to Goat-man?” Her voice was choked with laughter.

  I straightened. “Look, while you were over there making a new best friend, this one is trying to intimidate me.”

  “Intimidate you.” There was zero sympathy in her tone.

  “Yes, I told him to cut me some slack.”

  She laughed and then had pity on me. After a goodbye to Brownie—she kissed his forehead and I realized it was possible to be jealous of a pony—we left the pen. The guys were waiting right where we left them. Zac rubbed his hands together. “Can I get the fried Oreos now?”

  “Lead the way, man,” I said.

  After shutting Zac up with a whole basket of fried Oreos, we strolled around, grabbing food at different trucks and spending way too much money on greasy calories. By now, the sky had mostly darkened, but the lights from the fairgrounds and the many booths were harsh and bright. A group of young kids, probably middle school age, ran out of a funhouse giggling, one nearly crashing into Dre.

  We drifted from the food to the booth games. All these games were rigged. I’d been to fairs before, but my dads were always reluctant to hand over cash just to watch me get frustrated. Because that’s what I did—it wasn’t fun to keep losing. It just pissed me off.

  But more than anything, I wanted to win something for Bianca and impress her. I still hadn’t spent that hundred I’d won at the wing battle, so why not burn it now trying to win her a giant stuffed animal? Plus, it’d give us something to do. I gazed around, considering which game I could maybe see myself winning.

  My throwing accuracy wasn’t anything to write home about, but landing a softball on top of a milk bottle seemed like my best bet. Plus, that game had the best prizes. The stuffed animals looked fluffy and soft, plus Bianca was gazing up at them, the orange light of the setting sun glowing off her skin.

  I pulled out a twenty and stepped up to the booth. Shane groaned behind me, and Dre muttered something about embarrassing myself.

  “What do I have to do to win that?” I pointed to the large animals hanging from the ceiling of the booth.

  The carnie grinned, an older man with yellow teeth and thinning hair. “You get five softballs. You need just one to land on top of the milk bottle opening. It’s easy, champ.”

  “I get five balls for twenty bucks?” Christ, this was a rip off. “How about ten?”

  He seemed to consider my offer. “Seven.”

  “Fine.”

  He snatched up my twenty before I changed my hand. Hands gripped the back waistband of my jeans. “As much as I want to watch you try this, it’s a waste of money,” Bianca said.

  “I want to win you something,” I muttered as the carnie walked toward me with a basket of softballs.

  “I don’t need a giant stuffed animal.” She leaned against the counter of the booth, eyeing the milk bottles.

  “They look cuddly,” I muttered.

  She rolled her eyes. “Really, this is unnecessary.”

  “I wanna.” I let a bit of whine into my voice.

  “Okay fine. Let’s see what you got. I’ll be incredibly impressed if you pull this off. All these games are rigged.”

  The carnie plunked the basket of softballs down in front of me. “Give it your best shot, kid.”

  I bristled at being called a kid, but the guy was old enough to be my father, so I let it go.

  After throwing the first four balls, I knew immediately that I might as well have burned that twenty dollars. This was impossible. A soft overhand lob bounced off the rim. An underhand went wide and Dre heckled me by hollering, “Airballlll.”

  One more missed throw and I only had two balls left. Bianca had something like pity in her eyes for my wasted money, and I was pissed off I had ever thought this was a good idea. Zac stepped up to my side. “Underhand backspin.”

  “What?”

  He gripped the ball, palming the top, fingers facing the ground, then he swung his arm down to his side and up, mimicking an underhand throw. He plunked the ball back in my hand. “Like that.”

  I gave it a shot, following his instructions, and the ball bounced off the front of the front of the rim. It was the closest I’d come yet, but still not good enough. “Shit.” I had one ball left. I picked up the last one and gave myself a couple of practice throws.

  “Oh hey, look at that,” Zac said, pointing off to the side, behind Bianca. She whirled around searching the crowd.

  “What?” she asked.

  I looked over her shoulder but didn’t see anything. Just th
en the last ball was wrenched out of my hand. I looked over to see Zac swing his arm. The ball perfectly arced through the air before hitting the back rim of the milk bottle and settling right into the top. I stared and Zac hollered, “You did it, man! See, told you all it needed was a little back spin.”

  Bianca whipped her head back around, eyes immediately homing in on the ball on top of the milk bottle. “Lavin! You did it!”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to deny it, to explain that Zac threw the ball. But Zac’s hand clapped me on my back, a little harder than necessary.

  I coughed. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

  I turned to see him glaring at the carnie, daring him to say a thing. The carnie didn’t look happy, but then he shrugged. He waved his hand at the stuffed animals above him. “Pick your prize.”

  I looked to Bianca, who had her hands clasped in front of her, gazing up at all the stuffed animals. Finally she pointed to a brown pony. “That one.” Her eyes shone when the carnie handed it to her. “I’m going to name him Brownie,” she announced as she bobbed on her toes and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Lavin,” she murmured.

  My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. “Sure thing, B.”

  She beamed and spun to walk down the aisle of games. We followed her, Zac at my side. “Thanks, man,” I whispered.

  “Of course.”

  “How’d you know how to do that?”

  “Worked at a carnival at home a couple of summers in high school. We used to practice the games all the time.”

  If we weren’t in public and if I knew he wouldn’t have shoved me away, I would have hugged him right there. Maybe kissed him. “You’re awesome.”

  He grinned. “I know. Also I’m eyeing that fried Snickers stand back near the entrance.”

  I laughed. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

  “Damn straight.”

  We spent more time perusing some of the craft booths, which sold anything from custom airbrushed license plates to dream catchers. Zac got his Snickers, while Shane and Dre spent the majority of the time betting on how many times they could ride the spinny claw ride without puking.

  I wasn’t big on fair rides. They weren’t permanent and my Dad never let me ride on them anytime we went to a fair, convinced I’d fall out of it and die a horrible death. Shane, Dre, and, Zac didn’t have the same fears because they bought tickets and disappeared into the crowd to try their luck at these death traps.

  “You want to go on something?” I asked Bianca. Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

  “That looks nice and relaxing.” She nodded to the small-scale Ferris wheel, and I took in the structure. Blinking lights cascaded out from the center into all the spokes, and a sign called it the Sky Ride. The carts only held two people, which meant I’d be pressed right up against Bianca, and that was the reason I mumbled, “Sure.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “That didn’t sound enthusiastic.”

  “I’m enthusiastic. I get to be in a tiny cart with you where you can’t leave if I say something stupid.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes before slipping her hand in mine and dragging me over. After purchasing tickets, we didn’t even have to stand in line. The attendant boarded us right away, telling us the wheel went around five times, and then the ride started. Bianca’s fingers slipped through mine, and I decided I’d fly to the moon with her if she wanted me to.

  When we got to the top, the cart swayed as the giant wheel stopped. We were suspended in the air, probably a good hundred yards from the ground. I looked out over the glittering lights of the town. Bianca’s hand was warm in mine. She was looking down at our hands where they lay on her thigh. I squeezed it, and she returned the gesture, her eyes meeting mine. They shone in the moonlight, a little too wet for my liking.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  She inhaled deeply and then exhaled through her mouth, lips in an O shape. “Thank you for today.”

  “Of course.” I waited with goose bumps on my skin because it seemed like a shoe was about to drop.

  She didn’t let go of my hand. “I’m sure I come across a little nuts, the way I keep showing up and making you do random things with me.”

  “I don’t think you come across nuts.”

  “No?” she tilted her head.

  “No, I get that you want to experience things you haven’t before. I’m grateful you got me out of my rut. I’ve been on this campus three years. I have never been to the cemetery because I was told ghost stories and I’m a wuss.” I began to tick off on my fingers. “I never swam in the pool. I didn’t participate in the wing eating competition despite knowing it was an annual thing. And I have never shown up to this corn festival. You’ve been here less than two months and now I’ve done all of that. Because of you.”

  “I love that you love experiencing things with me,” her voice was breathy.

  “I do, Bianca. I do.”

  “I’ve been working since I was a teenager,” she murmured. “I came to the Philippines all alone when I was still in high school with my manager as my guardian. Other than classes—I had a private tutor and was homeschooled—I worked. Photo shoots, shows, casting calls for commercials, you name it. My manager gave me a strict diet and exercise plan. I didn’t go out on dates. I didn’t drink. I didn’t party… I didn’t have fun, Lavin.” Her hand was gripping mine so tightly that I feared she’d break some fingers, but I suffered because just listening to her speak was killing me. Especially because I knew how happy she was when she got to live free. She laughed bitterly. “You’re probably thinking, ‘oh boo hoo, poor model who got to wear expensive clothes and make good money.’”

  “I’m not thinking that so don’t put words in my mouth.” I kept my tone soft but sincere. “A job is still a job. And the job you had… I can’t imagine. That’s strict as hell. You had to really love it to put up with that.”

  “I did. I did love it until I fell out of love with it. The stalker thing was just the last straw.”

  “And you have so many options ahead of you. Hell, maybe you’ll be in magazines again, but this time it’s because you planned some bomb wedding for a celebrity.”

  She laughed softly. “That would be a dream.”

  The ride started up again, making its descent in our first rotation. “I’m glad we can do this stuff now. Go to corny-ass festivals and eat wings until we puke. I’m down to do it all with you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. That was another thing—I didn’t have a lot of friends. I didn’t have time to meet anyone outside of the industry and in the industry, I never felt like I quite fit in. I struggled to get along with the other women, and so many men gave me the creeps that I got the reputation as a loner.”

  I tugged her toward me, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. “That kills me. You’re charming as fuck.”

  “I’m a good actress.”

  “Maybe you couldn’t be that way among a bunch of cutthroats.”

  She sighed. “I think that’s more accurate. Around you, I feel like I can be how I want to be. Sometimes that’s breaking into pools after hours and other times it’s petting ponies.”

  “I like all those versions,” I said. “They didn’t deserve to see you like this. Your presence is electric, B. Lightning in a bottle. They missed out.”

  “I hate my stalker,” she whispered, her hand curling around my upper thigh. “I hate them so much, but without them, I wouldn’t have met you.”

  “Sorry, but if we ever meet this person, I’m not going to say thank you.”

  Her body shook against mine as she laughed quietly. “No, me either.”

  We were at the top again and the giant wheel coming to a stop. Despite the breeze in the air blowing strands of Bianca’s hair across my face, I wasn’t cold. She was so damn warm pressed to my side, her breath hot on my neck. Her hand was on my thigh, her fingers dug into the denim before she turned her face further
into my body. Her lips brushed the skin there, and a shiver raced down my spine. “B,” I murmured.

  Her lips parted, and a wet tongue tasted me. “Lavin,” she whispered. Her voice was husky and her thighs rubbed together. My cock hardened, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Sweat broke out on my forehead as my vision went hazy. The lights of the town blurred as my focus narrowed to Bianca’s hand steadily moving up my thigh, and the wet caress of her tongue on my neck.

  She pressed closer, and a little moan rumbled from her chest that went right to my dick. I tried to breathe through my nose and out through my mouth but she was torturing me, and when her hand closed over my groin, I jolted, sending the cart swaying. “Jesus Christ,” I groaned.

  She pulled her face from my neck and grinned at me, a salacious twist of her lips. I stared into her dark eyes. She squeezed my shaft, and I jerked, my dick nearly weeping to get out of my jeans.

  “What are you doing?” My voice was a croak.

  “Touching you.” God, her breathy voice made me want to strip off her clothes and kiss her until she couldn’t speak. Also more things. Lots of other things. That involved no clothes.

  “Yeah my dick’s crazy excited, but the last thing I want to do is walk home with a hard on.”

  She blinked at me, and when her eyes turned wicked, I got nervous. Her fingers nimbly flipped open the button on my jeans and lowered my zipper. My cock was already busting out of the hole in my boxer briefs, and I sucked in a breath as the cool air reached the sensitive skin.

  As her hot hand wrapped around me, my hands flailed, and I grabbed onto the bars of the cart. She stroked once, and I nearly whimpered. “Bianca, swear to Christ, this is a bad idea. Everyone will know if I’m walking home bow-legged.”

  “You won’t be walking home with a hard on.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off me as she began to steadily stroke.