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“A date?” I sounded stupid.
He nodded.
“And you did this for me?” I gazed at the romantic scene Daniel had prepared. Adam had never, ever done anything like this for me. I’d never imagined anyone would.
“Well, for youandme. I like pretty things too. Like those roses. And you.” Daniel spread his arms wide, encompassing it all. “It’s not much. You deserve a lot more, but I hope it’s enough.”
Not much? I deservedmore?It was beautiful. Amazing. With my heart in my throat, I placed the bouquet of roses on the table by the pie, noting that by some stroke of fate, they matched the yellow and orange patterned plates he’d put out.
“What do you say? Can this be a date?” he asked again.
“I’m not sure I’m dressed for all this,” I said, letting my backpack fall to the decking, motioning all around and then down at my jeans and T-shirt. “This is all so fancy.”
He gestured at himself—barefoot, in jeans, and that white shirt.
I laughed. “Okay. Yeah, this can be a date.” The air felt carbonated, fizzing as I breathed it in. “I can’t believe you took the time to do all this for me. I mean, for us.”
Relief spread over Daniel’s features. “Will it seem less special if I admit I had the kids help me?” He took up a match and struck it. “Paul was unimpressed, of course, but Kennedy thought it was a lot of fun.” He lit the candles. “Even so, it took most of the day and I didn’t have a lot of time for cooking afterward.” Shaking out the burning match, he ruefully indicated the pie. “Maybe I should have focused more on food and less on atmosphere.”
I waved that off. “No. It smells so good. I can’t believe you made it. My parents don’t cook. It’s microwave dinners at my house or my dad’s specialty: spaghetti noodles with Ragu sauce. So this is amazing. Believe me.”
Daniel sat down and motioned for me to do the same. As we settled, I couldn’t keep my eyes from straying to the twinkle lights, and then to the view of the river, and then back to Daniel’s familiar smile.
Daniel opened a bottle of seltzer and poured it into our glasses, before handing me a plate with cut lemons on it.
“Um, Daniel?” I asked as I pressed against the sides of a lemon to squeeze the juice into my water. Some ran down my hand, and I licked it from the side of my palm before wiping the rest on my napkin.
Daniel’s eyes lingered on my mouth. “Yes?”
“Whydo you want this to be a date? I hurt you in July, and I haven’t done nearly enough to prove you can trust me again.”
Daniel began cutting into the pot pie, steam rising into the cool evening air. Even after he finished cutting the pie into sections, he didn’t serve it yet. He seemed to be considering my question, and by the time he answered, I was sweating it, wondering if he’d changed his mind now. “Does it sound selfish if I admit that I’ve had areallybad week? And thinking of how I’d be seeing you tonight made everything a little bit better?”
My heart skipped again. “No. That’s not selfish.”
“Whenever I thought of you, it made me happy, and that just made me want to think of you more. At some point, I decided that if you, and everything about you, could make me smile during all this shit I’ve been dealing with, then I should take a chance. I want to be with you, even if, on the surface, maybe it isn’t the most cautious choice.”
I swallowed hard. “You want to be with me?”
“Yeah. Here, outside with these flowers, and that view—”
The river glinted in the sun, and the mountains trailed off in the distance.
“I wanted to see you surrounded by romantic candles and these twinkle lights.” His voice went softer. “I wanted that a lot. And now I have it.” A smile crossed his lips. “And, for the record, it’s what I hoped it would be. You look amazing, by the way. You always look amazing. Ever since the first time I saw you. Every time I see you.”
“Daniel…” I didn’t know what to say. I was dizzy. If I’d had a sip of the seltzer water before he’d started talking, I’d think it was drugged. I hadn’t felt so giddy and in love with the whole world since that asshole Jeremy put GHB in my drink. But this was different. This was because of Daniel. Because, somehow, despite it all, despite how much I’d screwed up, Daniel still wanted me.
“I’ve missed you,” Daniel said.
“I’ve missed you too, and I’m glad it’s a date.” I reached out for his hand. His fingers were as comfortable in mine as I’d remembered. “To be honest, I wanted it to be too. All week I kept thinking of this as a date, and then I’d try to talk myself out of it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
Daniel leaned close and pressed his forehead to mine.
My heart felt like a starry pinwheel in my chest, shiny and spinning with excitement, giving off sparks of joy. Our breath mixed in the space between us, and I waited for him to kiss me.
But he just pressed his lips to my forehead, like he had on my birthday, before sitting back to serve our dinner.
As he put a creamy, thick piece of pot pie onto my plate, he glanced at me. “Your hair in this humidity. My God. It’s amazing.”
