Page 126 of Power Play

“I know saying only doesn’t make six feel shorter.”

I turned toward him.

He understood change in ways most people didn’t. His entire childhood had been one unwanted change after another, and he learned the difference between leaving and disappearing long before I ever needed him to explain it.

“I’m going to hate it.”

“So am I.”

“You like road trips.”

“I like hockey road trips.”

“That sounds like the same thing.”

“It used to be.” His eyes remained on the road. “This is the first time I’ve had something here I’m pissed about leaving.”

Warmth moved through me. “Something?”

Ryan looked over briefly. “You want the ego boost?”

“I think I deserve clarification.”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m pissed about leaving you.”

My smile betrayed me. “That’s better.”

“Brat.”

“You started spoiling me.”

“I’ve apparently created a monster.”

“You made me intellectually confident. This is your fault.”

“I’m going to tell Brown you’re abusing the curriculum.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

By the time the fairgrounds came into view, the last edge of sunlight had dropped behind the fields and strings of carnival lights glowed against the deepening blue sky. Cars packed the grassy lots, families moved toward the entrance in loose groups, and music drifted across the open field beneath the mechanical hum of rides.

I sat straighter, and Ryan noticed immediately.

“You excited?”

“I love fairs.”

“I remember.”

“You remember me telling you once while drunk.”

“You talked about it for twenty minutes.”

“That sounds exaggerated.”

“You compared funnel cake to a religious experience.”