Chapter 15 #2
She rolls her eyes but smiles.
A message on my phone from Max comes through.
Max
Check out this post from Munera.
I click the link and see my face on a graphic next to Connor Stronghold’s. The text underneath says: The Prince VS. The Powerhouse. Who are you betting on?
With a sigh, I put my phone away. I don’t even want to read the comments on something like this. It will only get under my skin. And right now, I’d rather stay present with Romilly than discover whether or not my parents are the only ones who don’t believe I can win.
By the time we stumble out of the maze’s exit, it feels like we’ve emerged from a dream, but the sound of children laughing, mixed with the distant sound of a tractor, feels like a snap back to reality.
The rest of the farm sprawls ahead of us, glowing against the orange and pink hues of the evening sky.
Sunset Ranch definitely lives up to its name.
“See? I told you we’d make it out.” I dust a bit of hay off my jeans.
“I’m still not convinced you didn’t get us lost on purpose.”
“Me? Never.” I try to sound earnest, but I absolutely dragged out our time just to stay close to her a little longer.
Our journey through the maze almost feels transformative.
I don’t know what to do with my new feelings for her.
And I definitely don’t want to say goodbye yet, even though we’ve now spent the entire day together.
I know she must be hungry by now. I myself am starving, as usual, so I order us each a bowl of chili and a pumpkin spice latte from the food truck parked only yards away. It’s delicious and warm, and Romilly gobbles her food down for once, but we finish eating much too soon.
Come on, Bash. One more activity to win more time with her. “Do one more thing with me. And then I’ll take you home.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What are you scheming now?”
“Apple picking.” I nod toward the nearby orchard. Baskets are already waiting between the rows of trees, and a few other people are collecting the fruit with laughter.
“Apple picking? Are you secretly a Hallmark movie protagonist?”
“Secretly?” I feign offense. “Come on. Let’s make it a competition. Who can find the largest, reddest apple in ten minutes?”
She narrows her eyes. “Alright. But don’t get upset when I destroy you.”
“Oh, it’s on.” Already, I’m moving toward the orchard. I pluck one off the nearest tree and hold it up. “This one is going to be the winner. Mark my words.”
Romilly shakes her head. “Too small, too green, and too weirdly shaped.” She tosses several apples into her own basket. They look a thousand times better than the one I just picked, so I swipe one of hers from her basket as soon as she turns around.
But she catches me instantly, and her mouth falls open. “Cheater!”
“Strategist,” I correct, grinning as I jog backward down the row to escape her playful wrath.
By the time the sun dips lower on the horizon, our baskets are brimming, and I’ve somehow managed to lose the competition by a landslide.
“As promised, I destroyed you.” Romilly holds up her basket. Her hair is adorably mussed. Twigs and hay stick out of the tangles, and there’s even a smudge of dirt across her cheek.
“I let you win.” I lean against a tree and cross my arms.
“Sure you did. I’m going to have to make cider, or pie, or something. There’s no way I can eat all these apples before they go bad.”
I watch her inspect each one with such focus. I can’t help but smile because of how seriously she takes it.
We walk to my car. Once inside, I crank up the heater for her. She immediately places her hands in front of the vents.
“When can I take you out again?” The words slip out without my permission.
She sends me a sideways glance. “ Bash. ”
“ Romilly. ”
She bites her lip. “I don’t know.”
“You want to go out with me again, don’t you?”
She sighs, trying not to smile. “I’m not sure. This feels official. Are you asking to be my boyfriend now?”
“If I asked, what would you say?”
“Probably no. You don’t seem like the commitment type.”
“Allow me to prove you wrong.”
Romilly laughs. “Bash…”
“How about just a date, then?”
A torturous, long moment passes before she responds under her breath. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“ I can’t . I’m sorry, but I can’t go on another date with you.”
I try not to let it be obvious how disappointed I am inside. Keep it cool, Bash. “Why not?”
“What happens after your next fight? I’m supposed to replace you at work, and you’ll be living somewhere else.”
A bead of dread forms in my chest, because she’s right.
I have no idea what my life will be like then, and it would be unfair of me to string her along, knowing I won’t even be here long-term.
Romilly deserves someone who will stick around.
Who will help provide for her and be a steady thing in her life.
“I have my business here,” she continues in a soft voice. “My family. My friends. Meadow Hills is my home, and I don’t do long-distance relationships. Not after…” She swallows. “Not after my one.”
I nod because I get it. With my stomach in knots, I capture her hand and bring it to my mouth for a kiss.
It’s hard to remember why I was so against relationships whenever I’m with her.
The scariest part isn’t the idea of being tied down anymore—it’s how much I want her to be mine.
I can’t deny there’s a part of me that doesn’t only want to win my next fight to prove to my parents I can do it, but also to help her.
With real money coming in, I could make sure she’d never have to worry about losing her business again.
And I want her to want me back. I wish I could convince her I’m worth it by promising her a possible future with me. But how can I do such a thing when I don’t even know if I have a good one?
If I lose that fight, I’ll have nothing—no money, no sponsors, and no choice but to go back to my parents. I won’t be the kind of man I’d want to be for Romilly.
One who could support her , not the other way around.