“You like to shop?” Seth asks excitedly.

“Duh. Totally.”

“Me, too. Maybe I’ll go with you sometime.”

Jenna glances at me, as if asking for my permission.

I wave her off. “I don’t care. You can do whatever you want.”

She claps her hands and squeals. “Awesome.” She starts backing away. “I’m going to go check up on Ari. I just wanted to see how things were going.”

“Where is Ari?” I ask her, searching the mob of people for him.

“Oh, he threw up,” she tells me solemnly. “He couldn’t handle the ride.”

She whirls on her heels and hurries off toward the bathroom stalls across from us.

“She’s fun,” Seth comments as he turns to me.

“Yeah, she’ll definitely keep you on your toes.” With the tickets in my hand, I nod my head in the direction of the Ferris Wheel and motion for Seth to follow. “I only met her a few weeks ago, but she and her boyfriend have been pretty cool. They’ve made starting over easy, too.”

“Why did you decide to leave Florida?” he asks. As we pass by a large group of guys around our age, he seems to grow really nervous and puts at least ten feet between us.

His edginess seems to amplify when one of the guys turns and looks in our direction. Seth looks like he’s one step away from panicking. I want to reach out and take his hand, tell him to relax, but I worry that will only make him freak out more.

“I mean, I know you got a scholarship, but that’s still a pretty big move just for school,” he continues on after the guys have disappeared from our sight.

I try not to be bothered by his move, but it stings a little. “My parents didn’t have a whole lot saved up, so that was part of the reason.” I massage the back of my neck as I get in line. “I don’t know, though. I also sort of wanted to start over and make decisions for myself. My parents are cool, but they rely on me a lot. Plus, I got a rep for being…” I trail off before I make myself look like a douchebag.

“Rep for what?” Seth inquires, clearly intrigued.

I consider sugarcoating it, but I’ve never been that great a liar. “It’s going to make me come off as a douche, so promise you won’t judge me.”

“Trust me, I would never judge you.”

“Okay, well, I got a rep for being a closed-off manwhore.” I move forward with the line. “It’s not true. Well, not really. I’m just…”

“Shy?” he tries. “Because it doesn’t seem that way. At all, really.”

“No, it’s not that.” I pause, staring up at the ride as it twirls the carts toward the night sky. “Sometimes, I get the feeling that I come off as an out of place, awkward loner, if that makes sense.”

“That makes perfect sense.” He steps forward as the line moves. “So, were you one of those angsty teenagers who wrote tortured poetry?”

I chuckle as I elevate my brows. “The fifteen year old version of me was kind of like that, but I outgrew that phase by the time I was sixteen. That was mainly because my mother took away all of my music, my computer, even my camera and threatened to never give it back unless I got out of the house more and lived a little.”

“Even though you might hate me for saying this, I think your mother sounds fabulous.”

“She can be, in her own way. But living with her can get intense.”

We shuffle forward with the line and finally reach the ramp. I hand the carnie six tickets then we hop into the seat and he locks the bar. With a jerk, the wheel spins, taking us upward. Eighties rock blasts from the stereo and fills up the silence between us.

Seth grips the bar, frowning at the ground. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

Feeling daring, I slide my fingers along the bar and place my hand over his. His skin is warm beneath mine and I trace circles on it with my thumb, getting completely turned on. Fuck, it’s been awhile. In fact, it’s been too long. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” I glance at his lips and think about kissing him right there on the slow ass Ferris Wheel, maybe even touching him a little.

He stares at our interlocked fingers then tensely looks around at the young couple in the cart above us and at the giggle girls in the cart below us before moving our hands down to the seat between us. He’s worried someone will see us, and again, I don’t have a fucking clue how to react. All my life, I’ve been taught to be proud of who I am. With the exception of a few angsty teenage years I spent searching for myself, I’ve done just that. Yes, I had moments where I was terrified out of my damn mind. The first time I held hands with another guy in public. During my first kiss. When I told my parents I was gay, I was shaking so badly I could hardly breathe, but with time, I started feeling like I was settling into who I am.

He offers me a nervous smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say, but I don’t think I really mean it.

“Okay, so, I have to ask,” he says, changing the subject. “Where’d the manwhore rep come from?”

I pull a face. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh, yeah?” His brow arches skeptically. “Cause that kind of sounds like a line.”

“I swear it’s not, though. There’s a huge, long story behind it.”

When the cart rocks, Seth’s grip tightens on my hand. “Do tell, please.”