Page 83 of Written in Scent

Jamie launches into the most ridiculous story about filming the last lacrosse practice, complete with dramatic reenactments from the driver’s seat and sound effects that make me snort so hard I have to cover my mouth. He keeps glancing over at me with that cheeky grin, clearly delighted every time he makes me laugh harder.

“You are terrible,” I say between giggles, wiping at my eyes. “I’m going to be exhausted before we even get there.”

“Perfect,” he replies, reaching over to squeeze my knee lightly. “That’s exactly the energy I am going for. Laugh until you can’t breathe, then laugh some more. Best first date rule ever.”

The fall scenery blurs past the windows in vibrant golds and reds while his scent fills the car and his easy teasing keeps pulling more laughter out of me. My heart feels lighter with every mile, like Jamie has a special talent for making the whole world feel fun and possible at the same time.

Whatever surprise he has planned, I already know I’m going to love it.

Jamie turns off the main road and pulls into a brightly lit parking lot that sparkles with strings of colorful bulbs. I lean forward in my seat, trying to peer through the tall wooden fence that blocks the view. Music drifts toward us, upbeat and silly, mixed with the sound of laughter and the occasional cheer. My curiosity is officially at its peak.

“Ready?” Jamie asks, cutting the engine with a dramatic flourish. His grin is so wide it makes his dimples pop. “Welcome to the greatest mini golf course in existence.”

He hops out and comes around to open my door, offering his hand like we’re stepping onto a royal carpet. I take it and let him pull me toward the entrance.

The moment we pass through the gate, my eyes go wide and a delighted laugh bursts out of me.

The course stretches out like a glowing wonderland under black lights. Everything glows in neon pinks, greens, and electric blues. Tiny castles with turrets that light up from the inside. A giant windmill whose sails spin and cast swirling shadows. A full sized pirate ship complete with a glowing skull and crossbones flag. And scattered everywhere are vibrant pink flamingos wearing tiny sunglasses that reflect the lights back in sparkles.

The whole place looks like someone let a child’s imagination run wild with a bucket of glow paint and then turned the lights off.

“This is ridiculous,” I say, still laughing. “I love it.”

Jamie bounces on his toes beside me, clearly proud of his choice. “Right? Best date idea ever. Come on, I have a serious competition to win.”

We get our clubs and neon colored balls at the little booth. Jamie insists on paying and then immediately starts trash talking in the most charming way possible. “Prepare to be destroyed, Elodie. I have been practicing my windmill technique for weeks.”

The first hole is a simple ramp leading to a glowing castle moat. I line up my shot carefully, but Jamie steps behind me and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Need some help? I could guide your swing.”

His breath tickles my ear and I shiver in the best way. I swing anyway and my ball rolls straight into the water. Jamie throws his arms up in victory and does a little dance that involves way too much hip movement. “One point for me!”

I glare at him through my laughter. “That was cheating.”

“Was it?” He leans in and presses a quick, playful kiss to my cheek. “Oops.”

From that moment on the game becomes pure chaos and I discover a competitive side of myself I didn’t know existed. Every time Jamie lines up a shot I bump his elbow at the last second.

He retaliates by stealing my ball and replacing it with a glowing flamingo that he swears counts as an official obstacle. We keep score out loud and argue over every point, our voices echoing across the glowing course.

At hole seven, the pirate ship, I finally sink a perfect shot on my first try. Jamie stares at the ball as it drops into the cup, mouth open in genuine shock. “No way. You are a secret mini golf prodigy.”

I pump my fist in the air and do my own ridiculous victory dance, spinning in a circle until I’m dizzy. Jamie catches me when I stumble, both of us laughing so hard I have to lean against his chest to stay upright.

My sides ache and happy tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this, free and loud and completely without worry.

“You are going down,” I tell him, still breathless.

Jamie looks at me with pure delight sparkling in his blue eyes. “I’m so proud of you right now. My little competitive monster.”

We move from hole to hole in a blur of neon colors and nonstop giggles. He kisses my cheek every time he wins a point. I bump his elbow every time he gets too cocky. At one point I laugh so hard I misaim the shot entirely and send it rolling off into the shadows. Jamie chases after it with dramatic flair while I double over, clutching my stomach.

By the time we reach the final set of obstacles I’m leaning on him for support, my cheeks flushed and my voice hoarse from laughing. The playful energy crackles between us like electricity, and every teasing touch feeling a little more charged than the last.

Jamie looks down at me with that cheeky, mischievous grin, but there is something else underneath it now. Something that makes my pulse skip in a whole new way.

I realize at that moment that fun like this can be intimate too. That joy itself can pull two people closer just as deeply as heartfelt conversations and shared secrets.

And I am starting to love that about Jamie more than I ever expected.