The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(50)

“I wish I knew.” He says the words so low, I wonder if I made them up.

Regardless, I smile at the idea of Rowan wanting to spend more time with me, even if he doesn’t know why.

Rowan spreads his legs to get comfortable. One muscular thigh brushes against mine, and I suck in a breath. I’m not sure what’s scarier. Our cart moving through the creepy darkness or the burst of heat in my belly at Rowan’s closeness.

Definitely Rowan. I shift, moving closer to the end of the seat.

“If you scoot any closer to the edge, you’ll fall out of the cart and get hurt.” He speaks over the haunted sounds.

“I thought you didn’t care?”

“Hmm. Maybe I found some fucks to give after all.”

My chest tightens as I fight my smile.

The cart spits us out into a pitch-black hallway with evil cackling and the moans of ghosts echoing off the walls. Doorknobs rattle while other doors creak open as we move forward at a crawl.

Rowan’s eyes bounce around everywhere as we’re taken through the various rooms of the castle. His eyes widen as he assesses the attic space, where a Gothic bride chants over a coffin. “That’s creepier than I remember.”

I raise a brow. “Aw, are you scared? Want me to hold your hand?”

He rolls his eyes. I find the move so oddly human of him that I end up laughing to myself. The side of his mouth twitches again as he fights a smile, and I mentally dance in celebration.

“When is the last time you rode on this one?” I probe.

His hands tighten on the handlebar in front of us. “When I was ten.”

“Ten?! That’s forever ago.”

“Way to make me feel old.”

My entire body shakes from laughter. “Sorry.”

“I still remember how Cal used to cry every single time. His reaction always made my mom laugh, so we would bully him into doing it with us over and over again.”

I suck in a breath. I’ve never heard him talk about his mom before like this. “That’s sweet that you did that for your mom.”

He coughs. “I doubt Cal would agree.”

“What was her favorite ride?”

“All of them.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I reach out and grab his tight fist. I’m not sure what I thought to accomplish. Soothe him? Provide comfort? What a ridiculous idea. He doesn’t need that. I remove my hand, but Rowan latches onto it and holds it trapped against the bar. The graze of his thumb across my knuckles sends a spark up my arm.

I gasp. He rears back and releases my hand.

Our cart continues its slow descent into the morbid graveyard. Talking statues and ghouls fly around. One ghost pops up from a gravestone, and Rowan jumps in his seat, smacking his chest against the safety bar in front of us. It groans from his weight but stays in place.

A rush of laughter explodes out of me. Tears form in my eyes, and I can’t blink them away fast enough. “Oh my God. That reaction was totally worth riding with you.”

He turns in his seat. His eyes are lit up by the projector ghosts floating above us. “You’re evil.”

A massive spider drops in front of our cart and Rowan recoils. “Fuck!”

Another laugh erupts from my throat. I’ve never heard him swear before, probably because it would reveal too much about his mood.

His lips form a tight line, but his eyes remain bright.

“You should’ve seen your face. Priceless.”

He shakes his head.

“I think I might have peed a little from laughing so hard.”

“Charming as ever, Zahra.”

Something about the way he says the phrase has me grinning like an idiot.

“I’ve never seen a grown adult react like that on a kid’s ride.” I discreetly dab at the corners of my eyes again.

“You’re not as sweet as everyone thinks you are. Only a wicked woman would call a man out for being afraid like this.”

“Do you think they have it on camera? I’ll buy that insanely overpriced photo in a heartbeat.” My face feels like it might crack in half from how big I’m smiling.

He stares at me for a few seconds before facing forward.

The ride ends too soon. Our cart drags toward the exit and the handlebar lifts, releasing us. Rowan steps out before offering his hand to me.

I stare at it, blinking to check if my eyes are deceiving me. He rolls his eyes once more and grabs my arm, pulling me out before the cart disappears back into the queue. I expect him to let go but he holds on tight as the ride spits us out into a store selling merchandise from the Spooky Castle movie.

“Wait!” I call out as Rowan heads toward the front doors.

He drops my hand, and I walk up to the photo counter. The attendant helps me find the picture I’m looking for.

When he pulls up the image and blows it up, I lose it. My voice becomes hoarse from how hard I laugh.

“Delete it.” Rowan speaks behind me. The warmth of his chest heats my back.

I throw my hand up to stop the employee. “No! Please let me buy it first.” I stare at the photo with longing. I’m an image of grace while Rowan looks about two shades paler with his eyes threatening to burst out of their sockets. And strangest of all, his arm is plastered against my stomach as if he was protecting me. The notion is sweet, and I want a photo to never forget the memory.