my face, but my aim is still horrible. I swear my gun's been tampered with. I'm holding it straight, aiming right at the gaping mouth of the clown. And still the stream bends hard to the left, missing it completely.
Pop!
The boy next to me jumps and yells out excitedly as the nose explodes on his clown. His parents congratulate him and console the boy next to him, who I assume is his brother. The kid picks a stuffed alligator and to my surprise, he hands it off to his brother.
It was a sweet moment. The sad kid smiles, and the older brother ruffles his hair. The family moves on and it's back to just me and Phade.
“One more,” he says, holding up a finger. “That one didn't count.”
“Be scared, Phade, I'm not going to go easy on you this time.”
“Maybe I don't want you to go easy on me.” Winking, he picks up his gun and the bell goes off.
With one quick jerk, he aims the gun at me, splashing me briefly with the water. “Hey!” I yell, but he's got his weapon pointed back at his clown and he's filling the nose up quickly.
It's no use. Before I even get a chance to line up my stream right, his clown's nose bursts and he throws his arms up in the air.
“Woo!” he yells, holding his arms up high above his head, strutting around me like a peacock with its tail feathers spread open.
“I would have had you if you hadn't sprayed me in the face.” Lifting my hands to my face, I wipe the water. My eyes are closed as drips of water come into my eyes from my hair.
Opening my eyes, I find Phade on one knee, holding up a small box. He took his hat and sunglasses off, setting them down on the ground beside him.
“What's this? What are you doing?”
“Sylvia Fontain, will you marry me?”
A small crowd is starting to gather around us as people realize what's going on. Some are watching because it's a proposal, but most are stopping to watch because they realize it's Phade Manson doing the proposing.
Women are eyeing him, swooning.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yes, I'm serious.” Laughing, he pulls the ring from the box and reaches up to take my hand. “Well, is that a yes?”
“Yes! Say yes!” a woman yells from the back of the crowd.
My eyes fill with tears, and I cover my mouth. “Yes,” I say, nodding excitedly. My heart breaks a little, knowing that this is all an act.
Tears cascade down my cheeks. Tears not meant for this. Tears that should be forced and fake, like an actress in a movie. Only, these tears are real.
It hurts.
It hurts because this is the most perfect proposal any man could ever do, and it's not real. It hurts because I feel myself falling for this man, and we're not a real couple. It hurts because I know at some point this all going to end, and I don't want it to.
Flashes are going off all around us as he stands up and takes me in his arms. Picking me up off my feet, Phade kisses me.
The heat in his kiss is like nothing I've ever experienced before. It's not full of tongue and sloppy. It's not uptight and dulled down for the sake of the public.
This kiss is more. I feel his tongue as it slips into my mouth. It's slow, but the hunger, the desire, the need is in every inch of his lips.
I hold his cheeks in my hands as I kiss him back, absorbing every last drop of his lips on mine. I suck in his breath, letting him fill my lungs, and it soothes me from the inside out.
Every inch of my skin is on fire, covered in goosebumps, and my heart is about to bust out of my chest.
This isn't a kiss that two people faking would have. I can't help but feel something else, something deeper, something more tangible.
And then it hits me, sending my heart into the black pit of my gut.
My binder. . . He has my binder.
Phade lowers me to the ground, pulling his lips off of mine. I wobble on my feet, so he wraps his arms around my waist, and keeps me from falling down.
My lips are buzzing. I touch them lightly with my fingertips, softly caressing where we had just been fused together.
A kiss can't be just a kiss, not if you feel it deep in your