Page 77 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

So she’s terrified of kissing me. Or is it something else—that magnetic thing we have, the pull that’s existed since the moment we met, before it ended in disaster. Is that what she’s afraid of?

Because that makes my palms break out into a sweat, too—the thought that I could drown in Cristina, lose myself, not look back.

And that I’d wind up destroying her.

“Maybe the carousel?” I make as a counteroffer.

Her eyes shrink back to their normal size. “Perfect.”

Standing next to her assistant, who’s recording the live stream, Mina gives us a thumbs-up and whispers, “This is great.”

“You know,” Cristina says as she finishes her cotton candy and drops it in a trashcan, “no one’s ever won a giant bear for me before.”

“Too cliché? Would you have rather had the tiny frog?”

She swats me and I laugh. She laughs, too, light filling her eyes and making my heart pound.

“No, I wouldn’t have rather had the frog. This is perfect.”

Our gazes catch, and for a heartbeat, I forget about the live stream, the audience. I even forget about Mina, who probably has hearts in her eyes.

The carousel loads up as we enter, and I extend my hand for Cristina to take it as she steps up onto the steel structure. She looks at my palm as if she’s trying to decide if it’s a snake that might bite her. I click my tongue in a mock show of impatience. Her gaze flits to my face, and as red creeps across her cheeks, her eyes lower back to my hand and she takes it.

Well, would you look at that—I won. Hands down.

I hold the bear as she climbs onto a horse, and I take the empty walrus right beside her.

She laughs at my choice of riding companion, and I can’t help but feel a flutter in my rib cage as Mina and her assistant grab seats in a sled behind us.

What is this woman doing to me? The air smells like kettle corn and sugar, but all I taste is happiness when she laughs.

No matter how hard I try to fight this thing, it’s there—pushing me toward her even as I tell myself how bad I am for her.

While we’re on the carousel, my phone rings. I absently check it and see that my sister’s calling. In the middle of the live stream that she’s probably watching.

I start to slip the phone back in my pocket when Cristina says, “Who is it?”

“My sister.”

“You’re not going to answer?”

“Um . . . is that a real question, or are you testing my resolve?”

She laughs. “Answer it. I want to know what your sister is like.”

I sigh but do as she asks. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” my sister screams into the phone. “Why haven’t you kissed her yet?”

I mean, can a guy not take his time? Make sure his partner is okay with it before he lunges straight for the mouth?

“I’m getting to it,” is all I say to her.

“I want to talk to Cristina.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What is it?” Cristina asks.