There's no chance for any further conversation though, as the ride suddenly lurches into motion and now it's the sound of Whiffield singing 'Sexy Eyes' that fills my ears, adding to the sensory assault as the waltzer cart whirls around on the track.
But still, I find myself thinking how apt the song is, as I try to steal a look at Brett as we spin around.
The flashing laser lights make it almost impossible to focus, but I manage to see him well enough.
I can hardly miss him when he takes up most of the cart, I am more aware than I want to be of his long legs stretched out inches from mine. The heat of our thighs pressing together as gravity forces us closer.
I swallow hard, feeling deeply uncomfortable. This is partly due to him being so overwhelming, but there's something else happen
