6. Last First Date
6
Last First Date
Trevor
“Pull the phone back from your ugly mug so I can see your outfit.”
“Wow, thank you for that long distance hug, Hy. I’m so glad I called you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more letting me judge your outfit.”
“It’s a low-key date,” I huff, looking past the phone and at the mirror, not at all worried about how I look. Yeah, even I’m not buying that. In the couple of days we’ve known each other, it’s been a wild ride, and I want this date to be… not perfect. Right. I want it to be right.
That starts with my outfit.
“I like everything except the jeans. Try your ripped light wash ones instead.”
I look down at my body, then set my phone on the dresser and find the jeans she suggested. As soon as I’ve put them on, I realize she was right.
I’ve got on a simple gray Henley with a dark purple and charcoal checkered plaid flannel shirt over it, rolled up my forearms.
Do I know I look sexy as fuck with my muscular forearms on display? Yes.
Does Hyla tell me the only reason they’re jacked is because I have to service myself so much? Also yes.
She’s so supportive.
“Ah, so much better!” She claps her hands and says, “Shoes…”
“I’m thinking my gray mid-top sneakers.”
“Ooh, yes.”
I keep talking as I dig through the closet. “How are you doing? How’s yoga teaching going?”
“It’s fine. I’m okay.”
I stand up, shoes in hand, and stalk back to the phone. I grab it and pull it so it’s right up to my face. “When you say shit like that so quickly, I know you’re lying.”
I see the drop in her facade. It’s quick, but it’s there. Hyla’s never had it easy with her family, and these last few years have been particularly bad with her parents. Including her father, the state senator. I usually just refer to him as a prick.
Thankfully, Hyla’s moved into her own place away from them, but I worry she’s isolating herself too much. She also looks like she’s lost weight. The protective side of me wants to try to fix it all.
“Oh, look. Your mom’s here and she wants to see your date outfit.”
“Hy—”
Then my mom’s face fills the screen. Whatever. I’m not letting this thing with Hyla go. She won the battle, not the war.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hey, Mom.” I pull the phone back so she can see.
“Oh my gosh, you look so handsome.”
“You sound like I’m your little five-year-old headed off to kindergarten.”
“Because in my mind you still are. But fine, do I need to use a more hip term? That outfit is on fleek. No, snatched. Oh, that outfit ate—”
“Mom, stop. Please. I’m begging you. You’re not even using it right.” Hyla is behind her, laughing at my pain. “I blame you for this,” I call.
Mom laughs, and it’s hard to hold on to any frustration when I hear that sound. That laugh kept me going through some of our darkest moments.
“Sorry, honey. I had to. But you look great. I hope you have a wonderful time with Chelsea.”
Hyla steps up next to her. “Did I tell you I came up with a ship name?”
“No,” I grumble.
“It’s still not the best, but I’m going with TreChe. But don’t worry, I’ll keep workshopping it.” She gives me her brightest smile. Annoying me has always been her favorite pastime.
“Fantastic.”
“I’ve got to go, but have a great time. Love you!” Mom says.
“Love you too.”
She kisses Hyla’s cheek, then walks away.
“I guess I should let you go too,” Hyla says.
“Yeah, I need to get going.”
“Seriously, have an awesome time. I expect details.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I love you. Take care of yourself. And just… call me if you need anything. Okay?”
Her eyes lose some of their brightness. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun with your girl.”
“She’s not my girl yet.”
Hy rolls her eyes.
“Whatever you want to tell yourself. Love you. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I end the call, take one last look in the mirror, then head out to pick up Chelsea.
The apartment house I pull up in front of is a four-story brick building. It’s simple and unassuming, shrouded by trees. Chelsea didn’t actually tell me which apartment is hers, but when I get out of the car, I notice she’s sitting on the front porch, talking with some guy.
I force my jealousy deep, deep down because that’s not the kind of shit Chelsea needs. Unless she’s inviting me to be the third part of a throuple, it’s not like she’s talking to some other guy she’s dating.
When she sees me, she smiles and stands up, and I get to spend the entire length of time she walks toward me taking in how stunning she looks.
Like me she’s in casual fall vibes because despite it being late August, it’s only supposed to be sixty-three today. Last weekend it was eight million degrees. Welcome to upstate New York weather.
Chelsea has on a dark gray tee with the words Basic Fall Vibes on it and a graphic of a pumpkin spice latte. She’s wearing some lightly distressed jeans with brown boots, and a cream-colored cardigan ties the entire look together. It highlights her curves and her body shape, making her look show-stoppingly gorgeous.
“Hi.” Her smile is warm and her eyes are dancing as she comes to a stop in front of me.
I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Hey, babe. You look incredible.”
“Thank you,” she says on an inhale. Then she skims her fingers up my forearms and leans in. “You look deliciously hot.” Her cheeks heat, but she doesn’t break my gaze.
The hardest part about today is going to be not kissing her when she says things like that because it’s all I want to do. But until she can enthusiastically tell me she wants that, I’m not going to try. Her feeling comfortable is the most important thing.
Instead, I channel that energy and take her hand, caressing my thumb over her skin. “Thank you.”
Next to us, a throat clears.
Chelsea rolls her eyes. “This is Robbie.”
“ Uncle Robbie,” he says.
“Oh, sure, now you want to use the word uncle,” Chelsea mutters.
He pins her with a look. “Can you give us a minute, Chels?”
She sighs, but doesn’t fight him, and walks over to my car. My eyes follow her round ass the whole way. I’ll take things as slowly as she wants to go, but I’m still going to enjoy looking, whether I can touch or not.
A crisp snap draws my attention to Robbie.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Very much, actually.
“Is this the I break her heart, you break my face speech?”
“No.” His face softens as he looks over at her. “It’s not about you breaking her heart. It’s about making sure she’s safe and treated right. I would go to the ends of the earth to keep her safe. Her location is shared with me, and I won’t hesitate to hunt you down if I think something is happening that shouldn’t be.”
Okay, I don’t know what this is about, but his words tell me enough. It might’ve been an abusive relationship or something, but someone hurt her in far worse ways than heartbreak. It makes sense, especially since she told me she swore off guys.
I hold up my hands. “I don’t fault you for that. I understand wanting to protect someone you care about. You don’t know me, so my word doesn’t mean much, but I have no intention of hurting her, and I’m also protective. If it makes you feel better, I can share my location with you too, so you always know where we are.”
He stares hard at me for a moment, then his tough expression drops. “It’s frustrating that you’re so likable.”
I crack a smile at that. “I can even have her text you every hour if you want. I’ll set an alarm on my phone and everything.”
He sighs and waves a hand. “No. Go on. Get out of here.”
Chelsea laughs as we walk over to her. Robbie hugs her and whispers something I can’t hear. She hugs him tighter, then they break apart. Robbie eyes me one last time, then walks away.
I open the passenger door for Chelsea and extend my hand to help her inside.
Her smile hasn’t dimmed, and I’m soaking it in. This is how she was when we first met, but with how quickly that shift happened to her panicking, I’m not going to assume today will be all smooth sailing.
“So, are you ready to spend the day with me?” I ask once I’m seated.
“Excuse me? I believe I promised you brunch. If you’re ready to spend the day with me, you have to earn it.”
Challenge accepted.
“I’m all in,” I tell her and let the words hang there. I’m in for brunch. I’m in for the day together. I’m in for anything she’ll give me because somehow in less than a week I’m a goner for this girl.
“Guess we’ll see.”
I put the car in drive and get on the road, taking us past campus to the road that follows the far side of the lake.
“I haven’t come out this way yet,” Chelsea says, eyes on the lake view out her window. “It’s beautiful.”
“I like it because it’s not as popular with the college kids. It’s busier in the summer from what my friends have said, but once school starts up again, it’s quieter. But don’t worry, where I’m taking you always has a steady ebb and flow of people. Hope you’re not expecting a fancy brunch, though. Because this is a much more low-key place, but the experience is worth it. Plus, there’s great coffee.”
“Darn, so you’re saying I’ll have to live without lobster Benedict?”
I quickly glance at her. “Lobster Benedict?”
“I’m a sucker for seafood and eggs Benedict, so combine them and you get my favorite brunch dish. Best sprinkled with chives.”
“Okay, good to know you’re bougie.”
She fake gasps. “Rude. I prefer posh.”
“My posh princess? Has a ring to it.”
She snorts a laugh and looks out the window again. “That makes me sound way better than I am.”
“Don’t do that.”
She turns back to me. “What?”
“Put yourself down.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know if I’m putting myself down or not.”
“I don’t have to know you well to know you’re strong, smart, funny, and compassionate. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve seen it all. I don’t care about poise or any of that kind of bullshit. A posh princess isn’t what I want. I want you, and I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it.”
I put my turn signal on and pull into the parking lot of a small wooden building. It has a covered front porch with Adirondack chairs on it, and above that, a sign that reads The Lake Shack .
I turn to Chelsea, who is still staring at me. After a moment, she sighs and shakes her head. “You might’ve just earned yourself a continuation of our date.” My victorious smile makes her roll her eyes. She swings her door open, then looks back at me. “Don’t let it go to your head. You still need to impress me with this brunch.” Then she’s out of the car and strolling toward the building.
I scramble out of the car and follow her, getting ahead of her just in time to open the door for her.
We walk inside the building, which is anything but a shack. It’s a small but beautiful cabin-style building. Wood everywhere, with tasteful decorations and a homey feel. But the best part is out the back door. That’s for after we order, though.
There are people at a couple of the tables, but no one waiting at the counter.
The swinging doors that remind me of a saloon fly open, as a woman in her late fifties appears with an inviting smile on her face.
“Can I help you two?”
I rest my hand on the small of Chelsea’s back and guide her forward.
Chelsea’s staring up at the menu, wide-eyed, so I order first. “This is her first time here,” I whisper, and Chelsea elbows me. “I’ll have the kitchen sink breakfast burrito and a raspberry cheesecake latte.”
Chelsea blinks a couple of times, then finally looks at the woman behind the counter. “I’ll have the Benedict sandwich.” Saw that coming. “And a seven-layer wonder latte.”
A younger girl at the end of the counter gets to work on our coffee orders as the older woman rings us out. I pay before Chelsea even has a chance to try to pay for hers.
“Those will be out in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Chelsea moves away from the counter, looking around the place.
“What do you think?”
She spins around and grabs my shirt, pulling me closer. “This place is really cute. There’s something special here. How’d you find out about it?”
I chuckle at that. “Hyla and I were up visiting during freshman year, and Rae and Aaron were fighting, so Amanda and Mackie brought us. Mackie’s dad is a total foodie and loves to find the best local places. He was the one who picked it when he was visiting one time. The rest of them come here pretty regularly. It’s one of my favorite spots because it’s quiet, but it still has personality. Plus, if you had any concerns about being alone with me, no worries here. I’m pretty sure the older lady would hit me with a frying pan if I misbehaved, and her husband would chase me out of here with a broom.”
She laughs at that. “I appreciate you abiding by my rules. And this place is cool. Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Your coffees are ready.”
We walk over and grab them, but stay close to the counter, waiting for our food. Plus, I don’t want to spoil the surprise if she catches a glimpse of the back doors.
“Random and unrelated question… you said Rae and Aaron were fighting the day you first came here. Is that like a common thing? Because they seem crazy in love, and I don’t want to get invested in shipping them if they’re just going to break up.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “There have never been two people more meant to be than Aaron Cooper and Rae McKinley. They had a rough transition going from friends to more, mostly because they were both dealing with significant mental health stuff. They were broken up at that time, but since they got back together, their relationship has been strong and healthy. In a lot of ways, they set the example for all of us now. They communicate, prioritize each other, and focus on being the best versions of themselves. Long story short, you can ship it. The rest of us have been our whole lives.”
She nods and takes a sip of her drink. “Wow. That’s delicious.” She clears her throat. “So, they set the example for the rest of you in terms of relationships. Does that mean something serious is what you’re looking for?”
Before I can answer, the kitchen doors fly open again, and the woman walks out holding a tray with our orders on it. “Here you are.”
“Thanks,” I say quickly. It’s not that I don’t want to answer Chelsea’s question, but I guess I wanted to settle in a little more first. I grab our tray, then nod toward the back. “Follow me. You haven’t seen the best part yet.”
She takes our coffees and follows me to the back of the restaurant, where heavy duty French doors open onto an expansive deck with a sweeping view of the lake.
“Oh my god…” Chelsea stands, mouth open, taking it all in. “This is stunningly beautiful.”
I resist the urge to croon something cliché like “so are you.”
“Like I said, one of my favorite spots. Come here.” We set our stuff on one of the tables and walk over to the edge of the deck.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I tug her closer, then fish my phone out of my pocket and hold it out, capturing a selfie of us in front of the gorgeous view. I quickly check how it came out and smile.
“And saving that as my background.”
“Lock screen or home screen?”
“Lock screen.”
She purses her lips. “Am I not home screen material?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want a picture of myself on my home screen.” I drop my voice and nod toward the view beyond us. “Look out at the lake again.”
She stares at me for a beat, then does it. I snap a photo of her, standing there looking stunning as the wind blows through her hair.
I make a black and white copy of it. “Now that’s home screen material.”
Her eyes flit to mine, and I pull her close again.
“We only see our lock screen photos for seconds out of the day before our screens unlock. Those pictures aren’t really for us. They’re the ones we want to see for a second to smile or be reminded of something. Or to let other people see. But the home screen? Think about how much time we’re on our phones daily. Whatever I set as my home screen photo is something I could look at all day, every day.”
She huffs a sigh and looks up at me. “That is one of the most unexpectedly sweet things I’ve ever heard. You’re making it impossible to want to do anything but continue this date all day.”
I lean down and kiss her forehead. “And I wasn’t even trying.”
“Cocky little shit.”
I laugh and grab her arm, leading her over to the table so we can dig into our food.
“So, now you know about my lock screen and home screen. What are yours?”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and sets it in front of me. The screen turns on when she touches it, and there’s a picture of her smiling as she dances with a man I’m assuming is her father.
“Me and my dad at his wedding to my stepmom a couple of years ago. And you’re right. It’s a moment I like to be reminded of here and there, but not one I could stare at forever.” She unlocks the screen, revealing a gorgeous shot of Birch Lake taken from her family’s campground.
“That’s beautiful. I’d love to go back sometime.” I stop myself from saying anything else. If I think too hard about it, my throat will close up with emotion, and I want this morning to stay fun.
She elbows me. “Play your cards right and you might get an invitation.”
Then she takes a bite of her sandwich and lets out a satisfied groan. “This is amazing. I’m going to be very poor since I’ll need to drive here for breakfast every day now.”
I chuckle at that. “No lobster, but I was hoping you’d still enjoy it.”
She looks at her sandwich like she’s going to take another bite, but then rests her hand over mine. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s a cute date spot, but more than that, it feels like you’re showing me a little piece of you.”
“Does that mean we’re spending the rest of the day together? So I can show you more pieces of me?” I frown as soon as the words are out of my mouth. “That was more suggestive than I intended.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Her eyes dance, and she takes a big bite of her sandwich while staring out at the view. She’s a breathtaking mixture of beautiful and adorable, but there’s something about her. Her energy, her heart, I have no idea what… but it sucks me in more the longer I spend with her.
She wipes her mouth and turns back to me, her alluring eyes on me and her voice low when she speaks. “For the record, this date was never just going to be brunch. Unless you turned out to be an asshole. Then I would’ve let Robbie kick your ass.”
“Already sure I’m not a jerk, huh?”
“No question. I haven’t always been the best judge, but with you, it’s obvious. Your character shines through. And the more I see, the more I want to know. So give me the all-day date. I’m in. No complaints.”
Chelsea
I’m not sure if our date is exactly what I was expecting or not what I was expecting at all, but it’s been perfect. Sure, we’ve only made one stop, but it’s the way Trevor cracks himself open with every little thing he does. He’s so genuine that I have to constantly let my gut override my nagging brain. No one is this perfect. It’s an act. But what does he have to gain by going through all this? Who would want to deal with all my baggage—even if he doesn’t know it all yet?
I think he’s just a good guy, and it’s important to remind myself those still exist. My father is one. Robbie is one. Trevor is one too.
He’s been understanding of every condition I set. He’s not pushy. He wants to get to know me beyond the surface level. That alone is scary because it means harder conversations are coming. As much as I don’t want to relive what I’ve been through, I also don’t want it hanging over me. I carry enough shame about that day. I’m tired of holding on to it.
Since brunch, we’ve been taking a drive around the lake, stopping at the many pull-offs and enjoying the views. Our conversations have been light—mostly about music, movies, TV shows, or books.
Trevor pulls into the large park at the base of the lake, and since it’s a Saturday and the weather is fantastic, it’s already filled with people.
“So, you said no secluded picnics or hiking, but I figured a busy park right next to the police station”—he nods to the small strip of blacktop connecting the park to the sheriff’s station—“would be okay.”
“It’s great. Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me steal you for an entire day. Ready for part two of our date?”
“How many parts are there?”
“Four to five depending on how strictly we define parts.”
I can’t help but smile. He’s so ridiculous and sweet, and I kind of want to pinch myself to make sure this is real.
“We better get going, then.”
I swing my door open and climb out, but he goes around the back of the car and pulls a bag and a blanket from the trunk.
When he gets to me, he grabs my hand, and my stomach whirls. There’s something about him. He brings out a different side of me. I keep thinking it’s the “old” me, but now I’m not so sure. This is something else. Something more. I’m lighter. Almost awestruck. The rest of the world slips away, and even if it’s only for a moment, I see the world with childlike wonder.
Then he touches me or smiles at me and it’s an electric jolt to my heart, jumpstarting parts of me I thought were dead.
He leads me to a shaded area that overlooks a pond with a fountain in the center. It’s beautiful and serene, even with plenty of people sitting around it.
He sets out the blanket, and we both sit down. I’m still staring around at the expansive park while Trevor unloads snacks from the grocery bag he brought.
“Hopefully this isn’t too much nature for you.”
My gaze snaps to his. “Too much—” Oh shit. My cheeks heat, but he just laughs and keeps pulling snacks out of the bag. “I—I mean—”
“It’s fine. I assumed that was a lie since you told me how much fun you had working at your family’s campground every summer. For the record, you don’t have to lie to me. If there’s ever something you’re not comfortable talking about or not ready to tell me, you can just say that. I’ll respect any boundaries you give me.”
“Thank you. And thank you for letting me get away with such a stupid lie. I’m not always great at thinking on my feet, and honestly, I wasn’t expecting… this.”
“A picnic?” His eyes are still dancing.
“No.” I drag my finger between the two of us. “ This . Us. You. I’ve spent the last year feeling the least like myself I ever have. Then I moved here, and I was surprised to feel like I was finding the old version of me—pieces of her, at least—then I met you and it both centered those pieces of me and knocked me on my ass. When I’m with you, things come so naturally that I forget the rest of the world. Then something forces me to remember it and it’s like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. And I know none of this makes any sense—”
“It does. Believe me, I get it. I guess that’s why…” He sighs and flips his hand through his hair, ruffling it up in the cutest way. “It’s why I want to make you comfortable and I want you to know you’re safe because the rest of the world isn’t that way. But here, with me, it can be. I want to see that vibrant side of you because it’s the part I can’t stop falling for.”
I stare at him for a moment, then shake my head and laugh . “You know we’re ridiculous, right?”
He laughs too. “Absolutely. But that just makes me like it more. Life’s too short to always be stuck in the hard or serious stuff.”
“Agreed. Thank you for bringing that out in me.” I look down for a second.
He pauses and looks at me with a childlike expression. “Anything to see that smile.”
And, ugh. Swoon . He’s so… dreamy. Which makes me feel like I’m in a ’90s rom-com, but when I’m with him, I think I am.
He pulls two bright purple cans from the bag. They look like soda, but not one I recognize.
“What’s that?”
His face lights up. “Oh, it’s called Loganberry—which is an actual berry, a cross between a raspberry and a blackberry. I don’t know if there are actual loganberries in it, but it’s delicious.” His face is all nostalgia as he looks at the cans. “Tastes like my childhood. It’s fruity in a sort of indescribable way, and not carbonated.”
“I’m always here for trying new things.”
“Good to know,” he says smoothly. He pops both cans open, then hands one to me. “Cheers.”
God, he’s like the sweetest little puppy right now. So genuinely excited to share this really special thing with me.
I take a sip, letting the fruity flavor dance on my taste buds.
“Holy shit. That’s really good.” I take another sip, surprised by how delicious it is. “Where is this from and how did I not know about it?”
I’m practically chugging it now, which makes him smile.
“It originated in Canada, I think, but it’s popular in western New York. Especially Buffalo. You can find it scattered elsewhere, though. It’s always been a special treat for me. It was my dad’s favorite.”
Was . That’s the first time he’s mentioned his dad. I kind of assumed his mom was a single parent by the way he talked about her, and maybe she is, but I’m guessing not in the way I thought.
“Was?”
He swallows thickly, a sad smile crossing his face. “Yeah. My dad died when I was eleven.”
Without a thought, I reach over and take his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. It sucks, but little moments like this, sharing something he loved with someone, helps keep his memory alive.”
I move a little closer. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out the whole time.”
Some brightness returns to his features. “I’m glad you like it. It’s fun converting people.”
“That makes it sound a little more cult-y, but fair enough.”
“Hey, you’ve met my friends.”
I snort at that. “They seem pretty great, though.”
“Yeah. They are.”
“How long have you been friends with them?”
“Pretty much my whole life. I met most of them in kindergarten or first grade. They’re the kind of people who always show up for their friends, even outside of the six of them. Of course, everyone knows everyone in Ida. I’m sure you know how that goes.”
“Oh yeah. Small towns. It’s cool you’ve always had that, though. Close friends.”
“Do you have anything like that?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly. I consider Robbie my best friend because I grew up stitched to his side. As adults, we love the same books and have similar tastes in most things, so we’re naturally close. He’s a big part of the reason I chose SUNY FL to transfer to. I do have a couple of friends back home, but we’re not as close as we used to be. Growing up and stuff…”
I try to hide my cringe at how dumb that sounds.
“I have one of those too,” he says. “It happens, and it sucks, but it also shows you the people who really matter.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“Did you make any friends at your previous school?”
I almost snort at that. “I thought I did.” I grab a bag of cheddar and sour cream chips—the best flavor ever—and meticulously tug the seam apart as I talk. “I was there on a partial volleyball scholarship and spent a lot of time with my teammates, but I’ve since learned they were party friends, not real friends. I’m beginning to think that’s all Syracuse was for me. One big—”
“Syracuse?”
It’s not until I hear the word leave his mouth that I realize I told him where I used to go.
“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s where I went before this.” I stuff a chip into my mouth, savoring the flavor like it’ll somehow calm the ache building in my gut at the direction of this conversation.
“That’s where I went too.” Disbelief drips from his words.
I drop the chip I’m holding and my mouth falls open. “Se—seriously?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah.”
We stare at each other, confusion swirling around us. And tension.
Because his family camped at my family’s campground for years.
And now… we went to the same college before this. For almost a year and a half, we were on the same campus every day and didn’t even know it. How many times did we pass each other without ever realizing?
“Do you think we ever saw each other? Were ever in a class together? Knew any of the same people?” I ask.
He sucks in a breath, then slowly blows it out again. “Maybe. I mean, in terms of passing by or seeing each other, statistically I think we must have, but…”
“What?”
“If I’d seen you, we wouldn’t be here right now because you’d already be mine. There’s no way I would’ve let my dream girl walk past without doing something about it.”
“Dream girl, huh?”
He shrugs and smiles. “Something like that.”
That adorable smile grows as he reaches for a package of Dunkaroos.
“Well, as much as that inflates my ego, there’s no way we didn’t pass by each other, even if it was when we weren’t paying attention and never noticed. Which is just… crazy.” How do we have these built-in connections? How did we only find each other now?
I wish we would’ve found each other sooner. Maybe if we had met before, I wouldn’t have—no. I’m not going to think like that. Those kinds of what-ifs will only hurt me in the long run.
“Maybe it means we were always meant to find each other, and we weren’t paying close enough attention before,” he says. And the calm certainty of his words almost makes me believe them too.
“Think we had a missed connection without either of us knowing it?”
He shrugs and dips one of the tiny cookies into the frosting before popping it into his mouth. “Possibly. I wasn’t as social my sophomore year because I was more… focused, I guess. But freshman year, I was all about parties. Usually with my roommate or… friends.”
He stumbles over the word friends. Maybe he means hookups? I guess that’s not first date talk, but I already know about his ex. And I didn’t know him then. It doesn’t affect my life. But since he let me get away with lying to him, the least I can do is let that stumble slide.
“Well, we ended up here, anyway. Guess the universe is working hard to put us together.”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “Or maybe we missed all the signs.”
“Maybe.” I grab one of his Dunkaroos and swirl it through the frosting.
He looks at me hesitantly, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he’s thinking, but after a moment, he asks, “Why did you leave Syracuse?”
Panic claws at my chest for a moment, but I push it away. I refuse to let those types of feelings take over this date. This is an opening for a serious conversation, but I don’t want to go there. Not yet. I’m not—I need to get to know him better. Especially knowing he has a connection to that place now. But also, I’m enjoying myself, and I want to keep today upbeat. I deserve to not be weighed down by emotion on my first date with a sweet, adorable, sexy, and genuinely kind guy.
“Can we just go with it didn’t work out and leave it at that?”
He breathes out a sigh. “Only if you’re okay with that being my answer too.”
I also let out a breath of relief. “Yeah. Let’s enjoy where we are right now.”
“Here, surrounded by all this beautiful nature.”
I groan. “I’m not going to live that down, am I?”
He laughs, and God, I love that sound. It’s so rich and warm, like a blanket and some hot cocoa on a chilly day.
“Nope. Your family owns a campground and you’re the marshmallow roasting queen. I want to know more about that, by the way. Do you teach classes? Wander around to campsites and critique people? Oh, is there a marshmallow roasting contest every summer?”
I playfully shove his shoulder. “You’re hilarious. I’ll have you know my grandfather was a stickler for how marshmallows should be roasted, and he taught all the kids in his family about roasting marshmallows. If anyone was going to walk around and critique things, it would’ve been him. But you’re welcome. Because now you know how to flawlessly roast a marshmallow.”
He dips his head. “I bow to the master. I take it he’s not around anymore?”
I shake my head. “No. He died about five years ago, but he lived a long life. He was married four times, but his marriage to my grandmother was the only one that stuck. They were married for forty years. He was twenty years older than her. It was quite the scandal.”
“Wow.”
“Yep.” I nudge his leg with mine. “So tell me something about you. Dirty family secrets or a random fact.”
“I’ll never admit this to any of my friends because they’d be annoying as fuck about it, but I’m a sucker for nostalgic things. Or I guess things that remind me of my childhood. It’s why I love Goonies and The Sandlot . Loganberry and Dunkaroos. Things that remind me of the most carefree parts of life. One thing I really love to do is to lie in the grass and watch the clouds. Find shapes in them, whatever. It’s relaxing and makes me feel like a kid again.”
I don’t know what I was expecting when I first met Trevor. Dudebro? Frat guy? I knew almost immediately I was wrong, but I didn’t realize how wrong I was. Not only is he caring and thoughtful, but underneath his grumpy, grumbly exterior, he’s a sweet, adorable puppy.
He sees the upbeat, playful side of me and wants to bring it out. I see this side of him, and it’s now my goal to bring it out in him as much as possible.
“Then let’s watch the clouds.”
I lie back on the blanket and stare up at the blue sky with big fluffy clouds, partly blocked from view by the willow tree above us. He couldn’t have picked a more picturesque spot for this little picnic. I’m glad he chose to do it despite my stupid lie.
The fluffy clouds float by on the gentle lake breeze as Trevor lies down beside me.
“What do you see?” I ask. Though I’m trying to find any clouds that look like shapes, they mostly look… like clouds.
He sighs and rolls onto his side, pushing up on his elbow. “This is going to sound cheesy and totally like a line, but I swear it’s not. When I stare at the sky all I can think of is the blue of your eyes. They’re captivating. I’ve never seen anything like them before. What are they? Blue hazel?”
I roll to face him, surprised by how close he is. Suddenly, what I notice is his eyes. The nuance in their dark color. From a distance they look almost black, but from here I can see flecks of gold and bronze, like little stars shining in his eyes.
Okay, I’ve been reading too many fantasy books.
“A lot of people call them blue hazel, but it’s technically central heterochromia. One color near the pupil then it shifts to the other at the edge. There can be medical reasons for it, but mine are genetic, or so I’ve heard. Supposedly, my mother’s eyes are similar.”
He lies flat on his back again, but keeps his gaze fixed on me.
“You don’t know your mom?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I was a surprise. She and my dad were young and hadn’t known each other long. She was on the fence about how to handle it, but her parents were pushy. They weren’t okay with any option except her keeping me. My dad always wanted kids, so he promised to support her no matter what, but left the decision up to her. The way my dad put it, my mom tried, but only a few months after I was born, she didn’t want that life. Didn’t want to be a mom. She signed her rights away and left me with my dad. I’ve never seen or heard from her.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It’s a wild story, but I have no ill will toward her. She didn’t jump in and out of my life or confuse me—didn’t let me be a casualty of her uncertainty. She did what was best for both of us, and I have a lot of respect for that. My dad’s family is super close, so I grew up with a lot of love. She’s part of the reason I’m an advocate for women’s empowerment and freedom to make choices for themselves. No woman should be forced into a decision like that.”
“That’s so… well adjusted.”
We both laugh at that.
“I had to have at least one area where I have my shit together.”
“Have you ever wanted to see her again?”
I tilt my head back and forth. “Not in a sense of wanting her to be my mom, but because I’m curious about who she ended up becoming. I hope she found her place and is happy.”
He looks back at the sky, and I find myself moving closer to him. I imagine it’s strange for him to hear me talk about my mother in such a detached way, when I’m certain he’d give just about anything to have his dad back.
Slowly, I reach down and twine my fingers with his. “Is it hard for you to talk about your dad?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then shakes his head. “Not exactly. I like talking about him—keeping his memory alive.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He was the best dad in the world. My literal hero. Wherever he was and whatever he was doing, I wanted to be there, doing it with him. He was funny and kind. He loved to see people smile and laugh. He loved sitting in his oversized chair and talking or reading with me—and Hyla too. She was his girl, and he considered her his daughter.” His voice thickens with emotion. “And he loved my mom. Worshipped the ground she walked on. Truly, he’d have done anything for her. He set the example of what a man should be. Not just a provider. A caretaker.”
“We haven’t known each other long, but I can see the threads of that in you.”
A hint of a smile ghosts his otherwise melancholy expression.
“I try really hard to be the sort of man he’d want me to be and make him proud. He valued his friends and family and the time he spent with them. I don’t think anyone ever had a bad word to say about him. He died—” He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Sorry. Talking about how my dad died is probably too heavy for a first date.”
I meet his gaze and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
He stares at me for a moment. “I want to be able to talk about it.”
“Then tell me. This date is what we make it. We don’t have to follow whatever stupid rules society sets.”
This time I get a little more than a hint of a smile.
He nods and squeezes my hand back. “He was an electrician. He worked for the state, usually on construction of new projects. There was an accident on the job site—some kind of negligence, actually—and that was it. He was gone. And we ended up with a shit ton of money that was supposed to make up for the fact that someone made a mistake somewhere along the line and took my dad from me. Thing is, he wouldn’t have wanted us to be mad at the other person. That wasn’t him. I’m not sure where I got my temper or my grumpiness from, but I don’t think they were from him.”
“Your mom?” I ask.
He laughs. “No. She is a light. I wouldn’t have made it through all that without her. She always says, ‘Don’t forget to smile.’ I try to hold on to that. Not just the words, but her energy in them.”
“I like that. I might need to remember it too.”
He leans in and runs a hand through my hair, playing with the strands like he did the night we met. “She’ll like you.” His eyes drift to the sky again, then he smiles and with a playful tug of my hair, flops onto his back and points up at a cloud. “Saggy, baggy elephant.”
And just like that, all the heaviness washes away.
We settle into a lighter conversation, and when we’ve had our fill of snacks, Loganberry, and watching the clouds, we walk through the weaving paths of the park, hands entwined.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up?” he asks me, that sweet smile dancing on his lips.
“An empowerer of women.”
“I like that. No idea what it means.”
I laugh. “I don’t know. I want to work as a counselor or therapist of some sort, but my biggest focus is wanting to champion women. To give them a safe space and help them grow and rise and be the biggest, best versions of themselves. We’re told to make ourselves smaller all the time, in every way. I want every woman to take up the space she rightfully deserves.”
“You picked a good first friend at SUNY FL.”
“You?”
He laughs. “I am an excellent choice, but I meant Rae. All the girls. They’re a tribe. They support each other and always want to empower each other. You fit right in.”
I think I’d like that . I don’t say that though. It sounds more insecure and maybe even pathetic than I want to come off on this date, so I blow past that sentiment and turn the focus back to him.
“So, what are your plans?”
“Something involved with athletics. I’ve always loved being active and as someone who isn’t great with school or sitting still for long periods of time, I like the idea of working in that field. Maybe with kids. I’m not sure yet, but the idea of helping to develop athletic programs sounds interesting.”
“And what about the rest of your future?”
He glances at me, then smiles. “I want a family. That’s something I’m sure I got from my dad. The desire to find love and raise a family. Not to bring up an ex, but I was comfortable being serious with Sarah at a young age because I knew I wanted those things. After the breakup, I let go of it all for a while, but recently… life made me refocus on that again. I want an overall happy life with a partner and kids, and I’m not the guy who wants to wait fifteen more years for that to happen if I can avoid it.”
“Cool. No pressure, then.”
He bumps his elbow against mine. “What about you?” Though his voice is smooth, that same vulnerability from earlier shimmers in his eyes.
“I was the little girl carrying around my dollies and pretending to be pregnant or have babies for as long as I can remember. Which is funny since my biological mother didn’t want any of those things. But for me? I’ve always wanted to be a mom. And if how much romance I read is any indication, I want to find love too.”
“Ah, right. I forgot. But how will anyone ever live up to the book boyfriend standard?”
He’s teasing me, but the truth is, he’s more than living up to those standards.
“I don’t know… maybe you should give a class or something. You’re doing a pretty good job so far. Must be all those fantasy romance books you’ve read.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. He groans through a laugh, and I poke his cheek. “You’re cute when you pretend to be grumpy.”
“Who says I’m pretending?”
“Your smile.”
He flashes it at me, and for a second, it’s hard to breathe.
Tension swirls in and coils around us again, like it’s binding us together.
Or maybe that’s fate.
It seems like it’s been trying to tie us together all this time and we keep slipping out of its grasp. No more.
I squeeze his hand and lean in. “You know, you never answered me this morning. What are your intentions with me?”
He stops, tugging on my hand and pulling me closer as he looks into my eyes.
“To be worthy of being the man at your side, holding your hand through everything.”
Yep. Total book boyfriend material.
I push onto my toes and pop a kiss on his cheek. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“Does that mean you’re interested in going to our next stop?”
“Hm. Depends where it is.”
“Well, actually, you get to pick. I have two options for you.”
“And you don’t care?”
He shrugs, looking every bit the adorable puppy again.
“As long as we’re going together, I’m up for anything.”
I run my hand up his arm, looking into his captivating eyes. “What are my options?”
“There’s an apple orchard not far from here. They don’t have a ton of apples yet, but they have all the classic stuff. Hayride. Donuts. Cider. Option two is a longer drive. About forty-five minutes, but it’s a small chocolatier. They do tours and live demonstrations of how they make their truffles, and then—”
“Chocolate.”
He laughs. “Yeah?”
“When it’s a choice between anything else and chocolate, chocolate is always the answer.”
“Perfect. Let’s go.”