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“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Forgot?”
I laugh. “They might, but people rarely think about that.”
My heart warms when she laughs at herself despite the anxiety I know she’s feeling.
I sweep her into my arms, lifting her feet from the ground, and she releases a yelp. “Now you won’t have to worry.” The grateful look on her face makes me want to commit to carrying her everywhere from now on.
With her arms secured around my neck, I carry her to the table. When I set her down, she removes the flip-flops to let her toes sink into the sand.
I open the backpack and spread a thin white tablecloth over the table. “Well, since we’re closer to the water, we’ll say it’s clean. People would pee where it’s less exposed. Though some dudes are gross and would probably—” I shut up when I notice she looks ready to puke. “I mean, nope. No pee in this area at all. Pee-free zone.”
She laughs.
As soon as I set a tiny vase with two carnations on the table, a gust of wind whips the tablecloth off. The vase and flowers go tumbling to the sand. “Maybe I didn’t think this through completely,” I admit. “I didn’t consider the wind.”
Before I can do it myself, she ties one corner of the cloth to the table leg, so I help until we’ve secured all four corners. Her hair is double braided, so she tucks both carnations in the braid above an ear, the blue of the flowers complimenting her eyes. Much better uses for them.
With everything set up and her feet wiggling in the sand, her body relaxes. She plops into a chair.
She stares up at me, waiting, and all I want is to press her lips against mine for an intense kiss. She’s always so open with her appreciation. It makes me feel like the greatest guy in the world, though I make mistakes like anyone else. Jesus, how did I get here? Over a month ago, I was grumpy and avoidant of women. Now I don’t care about falling into these feelings. I’m no longer scared of losing myself. Is this the power of real love? I know I’d never lose myself with Paige. I imagine us growing together. A team.
Her lips part. I’ve been staring at her too long without responding, so I lean down to cup her cheek, kissing her long and slow. Her body becomes limp, and she holds the table for support. She’s like jello every time we kiss. Even if she doesn’t return my feelings, knowing I cause this reaction is enough.
I kiss her forehead and then pull away to finish emptying the backpack. “Since there’s nothing you don’t like, I brought gourmet burritos. Easy to pack. Easy to eat.”
I hand her one and she peels the aluminum foil back.
“No idea. Maybe they’re organic.”
She shrugs and takes a bite.
I laugh. “Oh, you know me so well, don’t you? One burrito won’t hurt. I’ll work it off tomorrow. Not like I’m training right now.”
“I’d like to. Can’t have too many years left in me. But it’s a huge time commitment, and the—” I stop short of telling her I don’t have the funds for all the supplements, the special diet, the travel, and the other costs. I wish she wouldn’t worry so much about paying me rent. It’s tight, but I’ve got it covered. “Competing can be exhausting. I’m happy taking a break for now. Probably start training again next year.”
I wonder about next year, even next month. Life feels pretty set, and I’m loving it. It feels like Paige will always be here. Amber will get her life together, maybe even get married so I don’t have to worry about her. Paige will continue to live with me.
I can’t shake the doubt gnawing on my insides. That’s the future I want. No idea what will actually happen.
Paige stares at her burrito like she’s also thinking too deeply about our circumstances. Fuck. This is our first date. I want to have fun and help her relax, but there are so many questions I’ve bottled up. The words are out of my mouth before I can silence them. “Have you thought about your plans for the future?”
She plucks an exposed onion from the burrito and nibbles a corner. Her response to my question is a slight head shake.
I want to invite her to stay with me. Again. Like I haven’t already done that twenty times. I’m not the clingy type, but living in limbo is torture. I want answers. I know her personality, but I’m lacking details about her past, her dreams for the future. If I’m in it. She never gave me a straight answer about wanting me as her boyfriend, and I’ve been too pussy to ask.
I take another bite of carbs and swallow. Carbs are delicious. “Want to get closer to the water and watch the sunset?”
She holds up the burrito.
“Bring it or leave it. Drop it in the sand. Throw it in the ocean. It’s your decision.”
