Adrien's POV
Time slowed to a sickening crawl.
One moment, the roller coaster was cresting the first drop—wind howling, screams ripping through the air—and the next, a warm, wet splat hit the back of my jacket.
Cameron twisted in his seat beside me, eyes wide.
"Did she just—"
"Yes," I said, very slowly.
My wife had just puked on me.
And I couldn't get to her.
Not with the safety harness locked across my chest.
Not with the machine roaring through loops and drops like some hellish, metallic prison.
The ride plunged into another loop, and Isabella whimpered behind me—followed by frantic, muffled swearing from her friend.
"Oh my God—BELLA, I SWEAR TO GOD—"
The coaster roared through the next inversion, my stomach lurching for entirely different reasons. The smell was—God, the smell was something unholy.
Cameron was laughing. The bastard was laughing, tears streaming down his face, his grip on the safety bar white-knuckled with sheer delight.
