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"You look nice tonight," he says.

That catches me off guard enough that I don't have a comeback ready.

"Oh."

His gaze moves over my face, pausing somewhere around my cheekbones. "Sparkly. I like it."

I can’t quite get a read on this Wyatt. He’s not really making fun of me. It seems more like he’s simply stating something he means.

"Thank you," I say, because what else can I say?

"You're welcome."

A strange little pause opens between us.

Wyatt is usually easy. Loud. Always moving, always grinning, always saying something he knows will get a reaction.

Right now he's simply standing there looking at me.

My pulse picks up.

"So," I say, mostly because I need to break whatever this is. "Did you come over here solely to critique my makeup?"

"No. I came over to ask if you wanted to go on a ride with me."

I blink. "A ride."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

That makes him laugh. "Because we're at a carnival, Quinn."

"Okay, fine. Then go with Cole or Jordan or Camden."

He studies me for another second.

Then his expression changes slightly, the grin still there but softer around the edges. "Because I've been trying to get you alone since I saw you by the grilled cheese truck."

Oh.

For once, my brain offers absolutely nothing useful.

I glance toward the rides instead, mostly so I don't have to keep looking at him while my face gets hot.

"Which one?"

"Ferris wheel."

My stomach drops.

Of all the rides here, he chooses the enormous rotating death trap.

"Classic," he adds. "Romantic."

I look back at him. "Romantic?"

"Could be."