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And then he’s rolling up the window and we’re driving on a narrow road that cuts through the woods.
He glances in my direction before focusing on the black ribbon of asphalt stretched out in front of us. “You want to take any guesses?”
I stare out at the vast darkness that surrounds us. “I have no idea what you’re up to,” I mutter, brows pinching together.
His grin widens. “Good, then it’ll be a total surprise.”
That it will.
After another five minutes of winding our way through trees that spear up into the night sky, the road opens into a wide parking lot. With the darkness blanketing us, it’s difficult to figure out where we are or what we’re even doing here. It takes a moment before my gaze sharpens on orange flames that dance and twist in the distance.
Is that a fire?
My attention slides to Easton in silent question. Instead of giving me an answer, he unleashes another smile before exiting the vehicle. And then he’s jogging around the hood and opening the passenger side door.
When I don’t move, he asks, “Do you trust me to give you an experience that you’ll love?”
Of course I do.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
He takes hold of my hand and pulls me from the truck. Once my feet touch the asphalt, he tugs me toward the wide swath of grass. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I realize there’s a lake in the distance and more trees that flank the shoreline. My gaze drifts to the fire again and the ring of large rocks that surrounds it. Two Adirondack chairs are parked near the small blaze and there’s a red cooler next to them.
“I don’t understand...”
“Remember all the times we went camping when we were kids?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “We would sit around the fire, cook hot dogs, and look at the stars, trying to find the Big Dipper. Then we’d roast marshmallows and make s’mores. You loved that so much.”
A heavy wave of emotion crashes over me, threatening to suck me under as tears prick the backs of my eyes.
“I did. I loved all the trips we took when we were kids.” Once we were in high school, it became more difficult to carve out time when our families weren’t busy with work obligations and athletics.
I can’t believe he remembered that.
Or even attempted to recreate it.
If I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of burning wood and listened to the crickets chirping or the animals scurrying in the underbrush, I would be transported there again.
When I remain frozen in place, he says, “Here, sit down and let me get you something to drink.” For the first time since he picked me up, uncertainty weaves its way through Easton’s deep voice.
I settle on one of the wooden chairs as he pulls out a bottle of white from the cooler along with two plastic tumblers from a paper bag. He uncorks the wine and pours one cup before passing it to me. Mind still cartwheeling, I take a sip as he grabs a glass for himself. Once he’s seated, he lifts his drink in the air.
“To old memories and making new ones.”
We both take a sip as the quietness of the night settles around us. Even though there’s a heightened level of tension swirling through the atmosphere, it’s not one that’s uncomfortable. It’s more a feeling of anticipation.
There’s a chill to the air and I’m glad Brooke suggested a hat and gloves. With the fire snapping and crackling a few feet away, I’m perfectly comfortable. My attention shifts from the fire to the handsome boy next to me. The one who has always been my best friend.
The one who now wants to be more.
Understanding dawns. “Did Brooke know about this?”
His lips lift into a smile. “I shot her a quick text before I picked you up.”
That sneaky little bitch.
Before I can ask any more questions, he reaches out and takes hold of my fingers. A zip of electricity buzzes across my flesh. His gaze drops to our clasped hands as if he feels the burst of energy as well.
