Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(62)

She’s right, though, it doesn’t look nearly as scary as those sketchy ones that travel around for fairs and carnivals and shit. But it’s also like eighty-five times the size.

“What she said,” Quinn says, motioning to the little girl and chaperone currently loading into their gondola.

“I don’t think that’s enough to stop me from having a panic attack while hundreds of feet in the air on a spinning wheel of death,” I say to Quinn, all the while keeping my eyes locked on the door sliding closed on the gondola.

Oh God.

My heart races, more sweat causing my hands to get all clammy as our own gondola circles around. It stops at the loading platform for us, and after the people inside it disembark—all in one piece, I note—Quinn hands over our tickets.

The attendant motions for us to board, and Quinn’s eyes lock with mine.

“Trust me,” he murmurs and holds out his hand.

I’m surprised to find…I do trust him. So I grab hold of his hand and let him drag me into the tiny box on the spinning wheel of death.

That’s when I’m also surprised to find how big it is. With little leather benches running down two sides and a capacity to fit at least half a dozen people. Not what I was expecting.

I take a seat beside him, still clenching his hand in mine.

“This…isn’t so bad.”

Except the thing chooses the same moment to move, starting the upward swing into the air, and I’m about to retract my previous statement.

Quinn eyes me, looking for any signs of discomfort in my face. I’m sure there’s plenty there, but he must not see enough to cause any real worry.

“Do you need me to kiss you at the top if you get too nervous?” he says, a lilt of teasing in his tone. “Like in those cheesy rom-com movies?”

“I don’t even think fucking you while this things spins us silly would make me less nervous.”

He leans over and his breath coasting over my neck causes me to shiver. “That could be arranged if you want.” His voice is a low, husky whisper. “We’d have to be quick, though. The ride’s less than fifteen minutes.”

I let out a bark of laughter, his ridiculous antics helping to put me more at ease. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

A knowing smirk rests on those sinful lips. “Maybe not full-blown anal. But I’d definitely suck your dick if you needed a way to relax and get your mind off it.”

I have a snarky my hero ready to burst free from my lips, but it gets caught in the back of my throat when our gondola rises high enough for the sunset to shine through each little crack and crevice of the Chicago skyline.

“Wow,” I murmur, my attention fixated out the window.

“This is my favorite spot in the whole city,” he whispers, and when I glance over, I find him staring out the glass too. “I swear, it’s like being on top of the world.”

“I believe you’re thinking of Mount Everest,” I supply, though from the way my heart is still racing a little, I might as well be standing at the top of the planet’s tallest mountain peak. Heights are heights.

“You’re a wise guy today, aren’t you?”

“It’s the fear talking.”

“No, it’s definitely just you,” he says, smiling, and I’m starting to realize I’m not strong enough to withstand the sight of those damn divots in his cheeks. It’s like dimple warfare.

It’s not until the wheel starts its first descent when he finally turns to face me, allowing me to see both of them in all their stupidly attractive glory.

“When I was a kid and had hockey practices or games over at the rink in Grant Park, I’d beg Marta to bring me here after. It was always my reward for playing well, getting to ride the Ferris wheel.”

“Marta?” I ask, because surely he doesn’t call his mother by her first name.

His smile turns a little sad. “She was my au pair growing up. Now, she just works on the staff as one of the housekeepers.”

Confusion hits me. “I thought your dad took you. To hockey, I mean.”

“Only in the beginning. But when it became too much of an inconvenience for him, Marta was tasked with taking me.”

“And what about your mom?” I pause, a realization hitting me. “Wait, are your parents married?”

“Whether or not they should be remains to be seen, but yeah, they are.”

“So why didn’t she take you?” I ask slowly.

He gives me an off-handed shrug. “Not sure. Probably too busy banging whatever junior partner at the firm was suiting her fancy that week.”

I almost choke on my spit. “You’re kidding.”

All I get is a slow shake of his head for a response.

“They didn’t even go to your games at all?”

Another shake of his head as the wheel ticks upward again. “Normally, no. I remember having a parents’ night for a game senior year. I’d told them about it weeks beforehand; reminding them, putting it in the phone calendars and emails. It was so important to me, I even went to their personal assistants, making sure they had all the information too.” His blue eyes shimmer, and it’s not just from the glow of the sunset. “I’m sure you can tell where this story is going.”

A sinking feeling causes my stomach to roll, instantly making me want to vomit more than this Ferris wheel ride ever could.