36. Gianni

Chapter thirty-six

Gianni

Thursday, April 3, 2025

I get up from the couch, put my guitar back in its case, and slide it into the closet before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

I hear a light knock at my door that has my brows drawing together in confusion.

I put my glass down, wiping the water from my lips, and head to the door. I peer through the peephole, and standing outside my door in a cropped band tee and tiny jean shorts is Lark.

As I unlock the door and wrench it open, her face lights up when she sees me. “You free tonight?” she asks, sounding overly cheerful.

“Uh, I am,” I tell her, moving out of the way to let her in.

She looks around my apartment, taking it in quickly before meeting my eyes again. “Go get changed. I have a surprise for you,” she tells me .

I don’t particularly like surprises, but for this woman? I wouldn’t dare tell her that and risk ruining that gorgeous smile of hers.

“Okay?” I say, the word coming out like a question. I grab a black T-shirt and black jeans before heading to my bathroom to get changed. When I’m finished, I see Lark curled up on my couch with Pickles, looking right at home. This woman is going to be the death of me.

When she leaves, I’m afraid the crater-sized hole she’ll leave won’t be easily repaired.

She hears my footsteps and turns to look over at me, a smirk spreading across those cute, bowed lips of hers. She brings her fingers to her mouth, releasing a loud whistle. “Look at you, hot stuff.” She winks. Lark kisses the top of Pickles’s head and practically bounces off the couch and to the front door. “We’ve gotta grab Tiny, and then we can get going,” she tells me.

I follow after her, and once we’re in my SUV with Tiny in Pickles’s usual spot, Lark sets up the GPS, refusing to tell me where we’re going.

Thankfully, whatever it is, it’s only ten minutes away.

I back out of the parking space and onto the main road, following the directions all the way to my worst fucking nightmare.

“Lark.” I look over to her, frantic. “What is this?”

She rolls her eyes, placing a calming hand on my thigh. “It’s a carnival , you goober.”

My heart rate picks up as I follow the line of cars into the dirt parking area. “I can see that,” I tell her, my voice strained. I hate crowds .

“Gi,” she tells me softly once we’ve parked. “I know you don’t like crowded places, so I figured we could take it kind of slow, okay? It’s Thursday, and kids are in school, so there shouldn’t be nearly as many people as there are on the weekends. And if you’re overwhelmed, we can leave at any time, okay?”

It’s not like I have some sort of PTSD from crowds or anything. Hell, I play for stadiums filled with thousands of fans several times a week. It’s just that places like this are loud and uncomfortable for me. I just feel entirely too overstimulated, so even as a kid, I never really enjoyed them.

But I’ll give it a shot for her .

“Okay.” I nod. “We’ll try it out.” I finally turn to look at her, and those silky auburn waves are just begging for me to run my hands through them. I rake my fingers through her hair, tugging at her roots and dragging her lips into mine for a chaste kiss. When I release her, she slumps back into her seat, her soft lips gently parted and her eyes hooded.

“That good, huh?” I joke, feeling better already.

She bounces back quickly, a sly grin across her face. “If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll give you a taste of some other things on the Ferris wheel.” She wiggles her eyebrows before hopping out of the car to grab Tiny from the trunk.

God, my dick is already getting hard.

We make our way through the lines, and once inside, I realize this might not be that bad. There aren’t huge crowds of people at every corner, and with the sun still up, the lights from the rides aren’t so aggressive.

Lark grabs my hand, rushing us in the direction of a cotton candy stand. “Pink or blue?” she asks me.

“Blue, but…” I hesitate.

“What is it?” she asks, worry lacing her words.

“Is it safe for you to eat that much sugar?” I ask, hating that I sound so worried. I just want to make sure she’s safe, but I also trust that she knows her body and condition far better than I do.

“I’ve got my CGM on, my notifications set to high, and my fanny pack has everything I need in case I eat too much.” She stands on her toes, pressing a kiss to my cheek that warms the deepest parts of me. “But it’s cute that you worry about me,” she says.

A blush creeps across my face, and I have to look away. How is she so fucking adorable all the time?

The guy making the cotton candy gives her one twice the size of her head. She takes it from him and leads us over to a picnic table where a live band is playing. 1

“I love cotton candy,” she says, taking a bite. I pull off a piece, stuffing it in my mouth and nearly moaning at the sugary taste melting on my tongue. Lark watches intently as I swallow, leaning into me to bring her lips to mine. She dips her tongue inside my mouth, and mine tangles with hers. The taste of her is so much sweeter than this sticky candy.

Tiny whines from beside us, drawing our attention back to the here and now.

She scratches behind his ears and lets him lick her sugar-tipped fingers before standing. “Alright, now it’s time for you to win me a stuffed animal,” she tells me.

I toss the cone of the cotton candy in the nearest trash bin and find a food truck with a giant pump bottle of hand sanitizer. I dispense way too much into my hands on purpose and head over to her. “Hands, little lady,” I say, and she extends them in front of her. I douse them in the alcohol, rubbing our hands together to distribute it evenly.

I follow after her, and for a few minutes, she takes in each game, shaking her head after every one until she gets to one called “The Strong Man.” As the name implies, it’s one of those games where you hit the metal plate as hard as you can, and if the bell rings, you win a prize.

“What am I winning you from over here?” I ask, and immediately, she points to a massive green-and-purple stuffed dinosaur. “Well, okay then.”

I hand over my tickets and pick up the oversized mallet, judging the distance before swinging it over my head. The bell rings loudly, and the teen working behind the counter rolls her eyes. “Which one?” she asks.

Lark tells her which one she wants, and a bright smile beams across her face as she carries it over to me, with Tiny trotting beside her, leashed to her waistband. “Thanks,” she tells me, cuffing her arm through mine.

We’re about to turn away, but I see a little boy take a swing, to no avail. These games are rigged.

Lark turns her attention to him, watching as he gets more and more frustrated, using several of his tickets to try to win the game. “You good here for a second?” I ask her. She gives me a nod of approval, and I crouch down beside the little boy.

“Hey, bud, it looks like you’re really working those big, strong muscles of yours to win something up there.” I use my chin to direct his attention to the net above our heads, holding hundreds of stuffed toys .

“I think I just used all my energy at baseball practice yesterday,” he tells me, his voice small. He couldn’t be more than six years old. I see his parents standing a few feet away, and the dad gives me a small, thanks-filled smile.

“Well, that’s not your fault. You’ve gotta put all your muscle into the game, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” he shouts into my face, still seeming exasperated by his inability to win the prize.

“You wanna borrow some of my strength so you can win one of those toys tonight? It’s only fair with how hard you’ve been working at practice,” I tell him.

“Sure!” he says enthusiastically, picking up the discarded mallet.

“Alright, buddy,” I tell him, positioning his hands on the mallet and closing my hands over his. “On three.”

We count down together, and on three, we hit it out of the park, so to speak.

He jumps up and down excitedly, shouting at his parents to see how strong he is before running over to the counter to pick out his prize. I wave goodbye to him and his parents before rejoining Lark, who’s standing with Tiny, looking every bit as infatuated with me as I feel about her.

I wrap an arm around her waist, resting my hand on her hip and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” she jokes .

“Come on, trouble. I have a date with a teacup, and I’m not willing to reschedule,” I tell her as we head toward the spinning cup ride. 2

1. R U Mine? – Arctic Monkeys

2. All My Life – Foo Fighters