Chapter 23
April
Did that just happen? No, seriously. Did that just happen? Because I’m standing on top of a hill in the middle of the desert, the sun literally setting behind me like I’m starring in my own romantic comedy, and Max just kissed me.
Correction: Max kissed me in the most romantic first kiss of all time.
I think—no, I’m certain my left foot left the ground. My actual foot lifted. Like we were filming a Christmas special and the snow was just about to start falling even though we’re surrounded by saguaros and the nearest snowflake is probably two states away.
I can already picture the photo. Me hanging by a thread—or by his arms—kissing him like it’s the first kiss I’ve ever had, which, let’s be honest, it might as well have been, and there’s my foot, suspended midair like I’m a walking, blushing rom-com cliché.
What. Is. Even. Happening.
I realize, too late, that I’m still smiling up at him, like a lunatic.
“Well,”
I manage, trying to play it cool despite my blood screaming.
“that was unexpected.”
His smile grows.
“Totally so not unwelcome, ”I add, a little breathless.
His eyes crinkle at the corners, and that stupid, beautiful, ruin-my-life smile is back in full force. Before I can say anything else, we’re being herded back toward our horses by the rest of the group, the moment still sticky sweet in the air between us.
I move toward Sadie, expecting one of the guides to help me up again, but before they can even step forward, Max moves. He crouches down beside me—one knee in the dirt, one hand on the saddle—offering the other tome.
“Let me help,”
he says, voice low, eyes warm—cowboy move.
I take his hand, and he hoists me up like I weigh absolutely nothing. His touch is steady, sure, and so ridiculously gentle it sends a new wave of flutters all the way down my spine.
Okay, my panties might be melting. That’s fine. That’s allowed. This is fine.
I settle into the saddle, heart skipping as he climbs onto Cooper beside me. He’s still gazing at me—softly, shyly—and it’s unfair how bashful he looks after kissing me like that.
We start riding again, and everything feels different now. The air is cooler, the sun even lower, the trail quieter. Our horses walk side by side still, but now, every glance, every smile, every bump of our shoes under the stirrups carries an unspoken emotion.
And honestly?
It’s romantic as hell.
The ride back, no one talks much. The sun is almost gone, leaving streaks of pink and violet smeared across the horizon. There’s a hush in the air, like the desert itself is settling down to rest.
And beside me? Max.
His smile is soft, thoughtful. He just glances over at me now and then like he can’t help it, and every time he does, I feel it. That flutter. That low hum in my chest that hasn’t stopped since our kiss.
This man—quiet, kind, steady—who’s only been in my life for three days, somehow planned a night out of a dream. He held my hand and kissed me like I was something he never expected to have, but wasn’t willing to let slip away.
He’s a stranger. But he isn’t. Not really. Riding alongside him through the dusky trail with stars blinking awake above us, I feel more known than I have in years. And I know—I know—that kiss has changed something between us. Something I’m not ready to name, but something I’ll never be able to undo.
We reach the ranch house just as twilight settles in. Max climbs off Cooper first, quick and smooth, and without a word, he strides toward me. Before I can ask for help or swing my leg over, his hands are at my waist and I’m lifted off Sadie.
He steadies me when my shoes hit the ground, warm hands lingering a second longer than they need to.
“Thanks,”
I murmur, breath catching.
We turn to the horses together. Max rubs Cooper’s mane, murmuring something I can’t hear. I step toward Sadie and press my hand to her velvety neck.
“Thank you,”
I whisper.
“For being so kind, so majestic, and for keeping me safe.”
I run my hand along her nose, and just as I’m about to step back—she nudges me. Not hard. Just enough to send me stumbling toward Max, and when I look up, startled, he’s already there—smiling, steady, reaching for my hand.
Our fingers lace together easily, and we walk toward the ranch house hand in hand.
Dinner is waiting for us just beyond the porch, on a small patio that overlooks the trails we just rode. Twinkling lights are strung above us. The table is set with a rustic charm—wooden boards layered with cured meats, cheeses, ripe fruit, and a chilled bottle of wine nestled in a metal pail. Two glasses are already poured. Candles are flickering low.
It’s… breathtaking.
Max pulls my chair out for me, ever the gentleman, and I sit, still a little dazed.
“I’ll be right back,”
he says, smiling.
“Give me two minutes.”
I nod, and he jogs off toward the main house.
The second he disappears, I grab my phone and open the group chat.
ME
He kissed me.
It was perfect
I can’t believe this is happening.
They respond immediately.
JUNE
WHAT. WHERE. HOW. DETAILS NOW.
MAY
Omg, you’re the main character.
JUNE
Was there tongue?? Was it soft??
ME
It was everything. The sun was setting. There was a guide. She basically narrated the whole thing.
MAY
This is giving cowboy romance plot. I’m obsessed.
Before I can type another word, Max returns holding his hoodie.
“Put this on,”
he states.
“Temperature’s about to drop, and I don’t want you to be cold.”
My heart actually stumbles, and I swear to God, if he pulls out a blanket and a guitar next, I’m marrying him on this patio.
Dinner has been unbelievably perfect. The twinkle lights above us cast everything in soft gold, there’s just enough breeze to keep it from getting too warm, and April—God, April—is sitting across from me, laughing, sipping wine, telling me stories about her childhood, and all I can think is: I owe Nico my right kidney.
Maybe I could’ve thought of something like this on my own, maybe, but I probably wouldn’t have done it. I would’ve second-guessed everything. Worried she’d think it was too much, too fast, too weird, and instead of this—this glowing, unforgettable evening—I would’ve played it safe and missed out.
She’s radiant in the kind of way that sneaks up on you. It’s not just the way the lights hit her skin or how the hoodie she’s wearing—my hoodie, which is now my favorite object on this planet—makes her look like she’s already mine.
It’s the way she talks, the way she listens, the way she sees everything and everyone around her with the kind of curiosity that feels…rare. She’s telling me a story right now—about the last time she rode a horse.
“I was twelve,”
she says, grinning.
“The horse sneezed, and I panicked like I’d just seen a ghost. My mom had to switch horses with me mid-ride. Full-on cowboy swap. Meanwhile, June was seven and riding solo like she was in a Wild West show.”
I laugh—really laugh. She’s so vivid when she talks. Animated. Real.
“Was the horse okay?”
I ask, still smiling.
“Oh, he was fine,”
she says.
“I was the problem.”
She leans forward slightly, eyes dancing, and then, without warning, she reaches across the table and takes my hand.
Just… takes it.
Her fingers are warm, her grip relaxed, like she’s not thinking too hard about it.
I, on the other hand, am absolutely thinking too hard about it.
I don’t remember what I was going to say or what time it is or what planet we’re on.
All I know is we’re sitting at a candlelit table under desert stars and this incredible woman—who was a stranger three days ago—is holding my hand like she’s done it a thousand times before, and I don’t want this night to end.
I don’t want to let go, but I also don’t want to move too fast, because I can feel how easily this could become something real.
The last thing I want to do is scare her off by showing too much too soon.
So, I just hold her hand and smile, while hoping to hell she doesn’t let go.
We’ve finished dinner, but neither of us makes a move to leave.
The wine is almost gone, the candles are low, and the charcuterie board has been picked through until all that’s left are a few lonely grapes and a slice of brie I’m pretty sure she’s been avoiding on purpose, and still—we talk.
About nothing, about everything.
The music she grew up with.
A film class I took in college that made me regret not becoming a cinematographer.
Her favorite kind of fruit—mango, but it has to be cold.
The difference between a road trip snack and a serious road trip snack. Apparently, they are not the same thing.
Somehow… we don’t run out of things to say.
Not even for a second.
She laughs with her whole face, and I swear, it does something to me.
I don’t even care what time it is, I don’t want this night to end.
After a stretch of laughter, she glances toward the ranch house and pushes her chair back.
“Excuse me,”
she says with a sheepish smile, standing.
“Ladies room.”
“Of course.”
I nod, heart already missing her after she’s only been gone five seconds.
I do everything I can to look normal. Cool, collected, chill. Which is impossible because she’s walking away wearing my hoodie, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure my heart just tried to crawl out of my chest to follow her.
She disappears into the ranch house, and I take a steadying breath before pulling my phone from my pocket.
There’s already a message waiting from twenty minutes ago.
NICO
According to my calculations, dinner should be served by now.
My phone is next to me. Ringer is on. Waiting for your text, my dude.
I huff a laugh and shake my head.
ME
Well, I’m here, and I’m done for.
Three dots appear immediately.
NICO
WHAT HAPPENED. TELL ME EVERYTHING. DO NOT LEAVE OUT A SINGLE EMOTION.
!!!!
ME
We kissed.
Golden hour. Horses in the background. Random trail guide shouting instructions like she was filming a perfume commercial.
NICO
YOU KISSED HER??
ME
She kissed me back.
NICO
I KNEW IT.
I KNEW THIS WAS A LOVE STORY.
I KNEW IT FROM THE MINUTE YOU SAI.
“I MET A GIRL AT THE AIRPORT.”
I grin, glancing toward the ranch house.
NICO
Okay so what’s going on now??
ME
She just went to the bathroom.
and I'm sitting here
freaking the hell out!
NICO
Cool cool cool. Listen to me very carefully. You need to push this night to last a little longer.
Star gaze. Ask her if she wants dessert. Find a dusty old piano and make her sit next to you while you try to play Billy Joel. I DON’T CARE. Just don’t let it end yet.
ME
I can’t even play the piano, Nico. What if I push too far?
NICO
You don’t push. You offer. You let her choose. But show her you want more time with her. That matters.
Also… did you offer her your hoodie yet?
ME
Already done.
NICO
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU I COULD CRY.
Now go on. Finish your wine. Kiss that girl again.
I smile and tuck the phone away just as she comes through the door.
Still in my hoodie. Still smiling, and I already know—Nico’s right.
I’m not ready for this night to end either.