He flips a light switch by the back door. The dark summery sky lights up. My jaw drops as I look up. The wide back porch has a pergola roof, thin wooden slats that provide some shade during the day. Max has strung up a crisscrossed pattern of clear outdoor lights. Out on the lake, the water seems to sparkle and glow even prettier now. I turn in a slow circle, taking in the magical glow of the lights mixed with the soft sounds of nature and the crisp smell of clean, country air.
“You’re incredible,” I say, my voice a soft whisper as I peer up at this man who feels so much more important than he was a day ago.
“That’s not all,” Max says. A little dimple forms in his cheek when he smirks. He holds up a remote control. “LED lights. They change colors.”
I watch as the lights overhead change from clear to blue, green, purple, pink.
“Leave it pink!” I say, basking in the soft glow of my favorite color. “It’s like a nightclub but without all the stupid people and lame music.”
“Should I leave?” Max jokes. “That way there’s no stupid people here?”
I roll my eyes, taking a step closer and pressing my hands to his chest. “You’re not stupid so you can stay.”
“Really?” he murmurs. I’m keenly aware of his hands lightly wrapping around me. “I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
I shrug. “I feel differently now.” My hands slide up his chest and settle on his shoulders. They have a mind of their own, these hands. Funny little things.
Seriously, what was in my Diet Coke?
I don’t know exactly how it happens. I swear I don’t. And if you ask me later, I will deny, deny, deny.
But it happens. I am kissing Max.
He leans down and I lift up and we hold each other, softly but surely, as our lips touch. I breathe in the smell of that cologne, taste the Dr. Pepper on his lips. His soft, perfect lips. Every single thought in my head disappears and the only thing that matters is this moment, kissing this gorgeous man under the pink glow of my porch lights, secretly hoping this moment will never end.
My best friend Annie changed my ringtone the day after Jason and I broke up. I had been a crying, blubbering mess. I was so upset I’d done the hardest thing a writer can do— deleted the romantic manuscript I was working on. It just didn’t feel right to keep writing about two fictional lovebirds in a fictionally happy relationship when I knew I was writing lies. In that moment, I’d felt like my career was over. That I’d never be able to write romance again, and I’d never sell another book, and my fans would dump me and I’d be the biggest loser ever.
Luckily, I found a new way to revive my career by writing anti-romance books. But before that fantastic idea, I was a mess. Annie did everything she could to cheer me up. She brought ice cream, pizza, candy, and even cleaned my condo for me from top to bottom. The ringtone thing was a joke. I usually keep my phone on silent, but tonight I’d turned the ringer on since my phone stayed in my room while I painted all day and I wanted to hear it.
So it’s right about now, when my toes are tingly and my body is melting to goo and my lips still feel warm from the kiss—the kiss!!—when Fate decides to smack me back to reality before this moment goes too far.
He rocks in the tree tops all day long
Hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-singing his song
“What’s that?” Max asks.
“It’s my phone.” I roll my eyes as the cheerful music of Bobby Day’s famous song plays loudly through the house. Max’s arms slide away from my waist.
Rockin' robin tweet tweet tweet
Rockin' robin tweet, tweedle-lee-dee
“Do you need to answer that?”
I shake my head, biting my lip as waves of regret wash over me. “They’ll leave a message.”
“Cool.” He grins, leaning forward. “Where were we?”
My arms are around his neck before I know it, and my toes are lifting me up off the porch before I know it, and my lips—those freaking traitors—are on his lips before I know it.
It only takes half a second to fall back into this blissful moment, lit up by the glow of porch lights and framed by the beautiful midnight blue of the late-evening sky.
He rocks in the tree tops all day long
Hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-singing his song
Like a bucket of cold water hitting me in the face, my phone rings again, ruining the moment, yet again.
