Hard Core (Hard As Nails Book 3) (14 page)

“Seriously,” I say, “we can go somewhere else.” Truth be told, I thought she’d love it here, but given how she feels about my bike, maybe I shouldn’t have. I actually can relate. I’m not a huge fan of carnival rides since I have a thing about heights. But I’m not about to tell her that.

“It’s fine.” She places her palm on my thigh, assuring me. “I haven’t been to a carnival since I was a teenager.”

“So… like a year ago?” I joke playfully, to which she elbows me in the chest. “Ow,” I yell.

“You deserved it.” She pops the door open and climbs out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

I make haste to join her at the edge of the curb and reach to take her hand in mine. To my surprise, she doesn’t resist and our fingers fold together.

Progress, I think, pleased.

Definite progress.

* * *

We stand beside the edge of the rope of the beer garden, each babying a bottle of beer in our hands. I’m on my third beer, and she’s only half-way downed her first.

“You really don’t like beer, huh?”

She tilts the bottle against her lips and takes a short sip. When she’s finished, she wipes beer from her lips and forces a smile. “It’s pretty gross.”

“Okay, that’s it.” I chug the rest of my bottle, toss it into the trash and take her hand. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“No,” she resists and breaks away from my hold on her. She raises her bottle back to her lips and chugs the remainder of the beer. Each gulp is visible in her throat. Her eyes wince the closer she gets to the bottom, and just when I think she’s about to pass out or spit the beer out of her mouth, she finishes the bottle and tosses it into the trash. “Now, let’s go ride the Ferris Wheel.”

She turns to leave, but I don’t follow her. The Ferris Wheel? She’s afraid of my bike, yet she wants to ride that death trap—the one damn ride that inspires insidious fear in my soul.

She turns back to me. “Are you coming?”

I sigh and nod. “Sure. The Ferris Wheel it is.”

A minute later, we stand in line behind about fifteen other couples as we await our turn on the ride. We don’t really talk as the carnie loads two people in at a time.

I reach over to her and caress my hand along the small of her back, and she steps into my side. My anxiety over the ride has me regretting more and more with each passing second that I brought her here instead of taking her somewhere fancy. Yet the way she leans into my touch now makes it all worth it.

Chapter Twenty

Alyssa

My eyes go wide the higher the ride climbs. We come to a stop at the worst possible place—at the very top—as the last riders are loaded onto the ride. The ride creaks, and our seat shakes. When I look over at Axel, it looks as if he’s about to lose all the beer he just imbibed. He’s as pale as a peeled potato.

“This?” I question. “This right here is what scares you?”

“Pshh.” He scoffs, a ridiculous display of overacting. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“It’s okay to be afraid sometimes,” I point out and gaze into the distance. “It makes you more relatable.”

He shifts in his seat, arching his back against the side railing. Our seat begins to rock, and an ominous breeze blows through my hair. I grip my hands tight around the safety bar.

“Am I not relatable?”

I purse my lips together, searching my mind for an appropriate answer, but alas, I don’t have one. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s what this is about,” he points out. “I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me.”

“Right.” I nod. “So far, what do you know about me?”

“You’re beautiful,” he spits out without having to think for even a split second. “You’re graceful. You’re smart as hell and have a heart of gold. You’re terrified of motorcycles for some reason, which I’m sure is stupid—”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugs, and continues. “You’re mysterious. For some reason, you always have the freshest breath in the morning.”

“That’s because I get up and rinse with mouthwash before you wake up.”

He presses his finger to my lips, and for whatever reason, I’m not offended nor do I swat his hand away. “Sometimes, you’re funny as hell, but most of the time, you’re sexy as hell. You make me want to do insane things to you, and it’s been incredibly hard holding back.”

“You don’t need to hold back,” I say softly and angle myself against the side railing, causing the seat to rock again. This time, I don’t give the rocking much notice, or let the fear settle in. The ride begins moving, and we begin an endless cycle, where the ride lures us into a massive circle. “You don’t need to do anything.”

“I do.” He smacks his lips together and reaches to comb a finger through my hair. “Tell me, what do you know about me?”

“You’re sexy,” I say sheepishly and bow my head, almost embarrassed.

“I know,” he says with a cocky grin and angles his palm against my chin. “But please continue.”

This is awkward, certainly one of the most awkward conversations I’ve ever participated in. Almost as awkward as the first time my father gave me the talk about the birds and the bees. And the second time. And the third time.

“You’re protective,” I continue. “You have a big heart underneath the hard exterior, and for whatever reason, you want more than sex with me.”

He pets his thumb against my cheek. “You can’t imagine what I see in you.”

“You love your motorcycle, and sometimes, I think I want to jump on because maybe it’d be thrilling.”

“Ah-ha!” He throws himself back against the seat with glee that knows no bounds. Except his glee is short lived, because the seat begins to rock, and his cheeks flush pale again. “Sorry,” he groans. “I got excited.”

“I’m not getting on your bike,” I break the bad news to him with a warm smile. “I’m sorry, but it’s just this huge fear of mine.”

“You can’t get over your fears if you don’t ever face them.”

“Who says I want to get over them?”

“I can tell by the look on your face, and by the words you just said.” He scoots closer to me, and throws his arm behind my head. “Fears are completely irrational, if you really think about it.”

“Says the guy who’s afraid of heights.”

“You know what the difference is? I’m up here facing my fears.”

“Damn.” I push my tongue into my cheek. “You got me there.”

“So, what do you say?” he questions, and there’s hope swirling in his eyes.

Poor guy. “Absolutely not.”

* * *

Axel digs into his back pocket to fetch his wallet, even after I specifically told him that
no, I don’t want a stuffed bear bigger than the backseat of my car.

As we already established, he’s not one to take orders from me. He pretty much does what he pleases, when he pleases. It’s an almost charming quality, his absolute stubbornness.

He hands the carnie a ten-dollar bill, which will be good enough for three tosses of the ball against a scientifically stacked triangle of suspiciously heavy looking cups.

He swears he’s the champ at this game, but I find it hard to believe anyone could be a champ at something that is so obviously rigged. But hey, it’s his money and I’m not about to tell him how to spend it. I have next to no faith in him winning whatsoever, and I’d actually prefer if he didn’t win.

“What in the hell am I going to do with a stuffed bear?” I stand on the tip of my toes so I can whisper in his ear.

“I don’t know.” He cranes his head to whisper back in my ear. “Toss him into the corner of your room? Surely, it could use some decoration.”

“Remind me to kick your ass later,” I whisper back before stepping up to the booth beside him.

He turns to me with a panty-melting smirk. “Someday you’re going to have to carry through with that threat.”

The odds of me kicking his ass are certainly higher than the odds he wins the damn teddy bear anyways.

The carnival worker shoves the ten-dollar bill into his holster and digs into a bowl of balls.

“I get three throws right?” Axel questions.

“Right.” The carnie tips his hat at him and rolls three balls onto the counter. “Good luck, buddy.”

Axel angles his eyes at the young man, and scoffs. “I’m not going to be needing any luck, kid.”

He picks up the first ball and shifts his weight to his right foot. He steadies himself and takes a short inhale before he launches the first ball. It crashes against the cups, knocking all three over and onto the floor behind the stand on which they were stacked.

“Wow.” The carnie’s eyes go wide as he looks to the stand, and then back at Axel. “Which bear do you want?”

“Funny kid.” He looks back to me and smirks. “I’m not finished yet.”

I drop my mouth open in shock that he actually won the damn bear, and realize that I’m going to have to figure out where I’m going to stuff it; my solitary closet is already filled to the brim.

He launches the second ball at another tower of three cups, and the same thing happens. They all tumble to the ground. At this point, both carnie boy and myself are stunned. Axel doesn’t give us time to catch our collective breaths before he’s launching the third and final ball.

And fucking score.

How in the hell did this just happen?

“That’s three teddy bears,” Axel shouts and begins to point to his desired choices. “A pink one, a blue one, and a green one. Please.” He’s proud of himself. Too proud of himself.

I can’t think of a more embarrassing display for two late twentysomethings than strutting through a crowded street carrying three oversized teddy bears. Axel carries one in each arm, while I struggle to carry one.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t take your bike,” I say as we exit through an opening in the roadblock. “Otherwise, these poor guys might have been abandoned.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I could have taken them home one at a time, and then come back for you.”

“Really?” I glare at him, but the stuffed toy in front of me blocks his view. “There’s no way in hell you’d get a second date in that scenario.”

“Please,” he chuckles to himself. “We’ve already established what I can accomplish when I set my mind to it. A second date is the least of your worries.”

* * *

The funniest thing happened after we loaded the three bears into my car. Axel said he was too tired to drive back to my place, and asked me to drive instead. Then, when we arrived, he yawned and told me he was tired and would I mind if we could save my “reward” for going on a date with him and get some shut eye first. Baffled, I said sure, no problem.

I mean, what else was I going to say?

I’d already established I was desperate for his cock, but I didn’t want the poor guy to feel like he had to be at my beck and call even when he was exhausted.

Now I lie here in bed beside him, listening to his breathing as he snoozes. There’s a certain thrill when we’re lost in the throes of ecstasy, but here in the silence, there’s a different sort of thrill. One I can’t quite put my finger on.

Restless, I shift in bed and roll against his body with my head angled against his chest. It’s here that I find the most comfort, which startles me into a deep trance where I’m left alone with my imagination.

There’s an unfamiliar beating of my heart, wild and ragged against my chest. It’s a beat I’ve long forgotten was there, and it brings a certain warmth to my soul. It terrifies me almost to the point of tears. At the same time, it soothes me until I’m left dizzy and reeling, pleading for the release that sleep will bring. Once my eyes are shut, and I shift into the land of dreams, maybe then I can fully understand the predicament I’ve found myself in.

Chapter Twenty-One

Axel

She thinks I’m sleeping, but I’m not. Once again, I’m being the manipulative bastard she’s accused me of being, but it’s only because I want to know how she acts when I’m asleep. I want to know if she looks at me the same way I look at her when she’s dreaming.

I think our date went exceptionally well, and I had a lot of fun with her. It was a nice treat, to get away from this bedroom and from the club, to see her outside the same damn surroundings.

Yeah, I think our first date went as well as it could. I mean, once we left the carnival, she didn’t mention sex. Up until tonight, that had been the extent of our relationship on her end. The fact that she’s not trying to cash in on her reward for me taking her on the date tells me everything I need to know.

She feels the same way I feel about her. I’m not saying it makes sense. It doesn’t. In the grand scheme of things, we hardly know each other, but I don’t think you need to know everything there is to know about someone to love them.

I think you can love someone from the moment you set your eyes on them, and the more you learn about someone, the more you grow to love them.

I feel her shift against my body and cradle her head on my bare chest. Maybe she’s finally ready to go to sleep. Cautiously, I open my eyes and the sight of her takes my breath away. She looks serene in the glow of the streetlights that pour into the bedroom. Her hair so soft, her skin so smooth.