"Yep. I pictured you, and thought that was fucked up. So I ran."
She kisses me. And I feel both things in it—the happiness that I love her that much, and the sadness that I've just been existing for years instead of living.
"What shall we do now?"
I smile. "Wanna grab some dinner and lie in the back of my truck to watch the stars?"
She nods. "I'd love that."
I lean in, running my tongue along her jaw. "And fuck some more. Now I've started, I can't stop."
She giggles, running her fingers through my hair. "Fucking all night sounds good."
I pull back, looking into her eyes. “Harper. I’m not joking. My dick is going to want to live inside you from now on.”
“I can deal with that, Ace.”
We grab burgers from Sal's drive-through window on the edge of town. I order two doubles with extra pickles because she always steals mine. She orders a chocolate milkshake and fries, claims she's not that hungry, and then eats half my burger before we've even parked.
Some things don't change.
I drive us up to the north ridge, not our sunset spot, the one with the flat stretch of rock that overlooks the valley from the east side. You can see the whole ranch from here. Every light, every barn, every fence line stretching out in the dark. And above it, the sky.
Arizona sky at night is something else. No clouds. No light pollution. Just an ocean of stars so thick and bright it makes you feel small and infinite at the same time.
I reverse the truck to the edge, kill the engine, and drop the tailgate. Grab the blankets I keep behind the seat, because sometimes I take Wyatt here, and toss them in the bed.
Harper climbs up before I can offer her a hand. Kicks off her boots, crosses her legs, and tips her head back.
"God, I missed this sky," she says.
I climb up beside her, stretching out on the blanket, stacking my hands behind my head. She settles against my side. Her headon my chest. Her leg thrown over mine. Like we've done this a thousand times. Because we have.
"LA doesn't have stars?" I ask.
"LA has three stars and a lot of airplane lights. It's depressing."
"That's tragic."
"It really is." She steals another fry from the bag between us. "I tried to find Orion once from my apartment balcony. Couldn't even find the moon."
I laugh. "That's just sad, Goldie."
"I know. Emma, my roommate, found me out there squinting at the sky and thought I was having a breakdown."
"Were you?"
"Little bit." She grins up at me.
I point up. "There. Orion. Right there."
She follows my finger. "Show-off."
"And there's the Big Dipper. And there—" I trace the line with my finger. "That's Cassiopeia."
"And where is Frank tonight?" she teases.
A pain slices through my chest. Frank was the made-up constellation dad used to show me, and then I used to find it with Harper to make her smile.
