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He helps me out of the truck and we head for the door. There’s only one other couple playing right now, and they’re already on the seventh hole, so I know that we won’t catch up to them.
He pays and I pick out my putter and ball, grabbing another one for Heath. He comes over with a slip of paper and a golf pencil, and I pass him his putter. It isn’t until we’re on the first hole that I realize how much I missed playing.
“I used to go with my brother all the time in high school,” I say, a pang of sadness hitting me.
“So, you’re trying to warn me that I’m about to get my butt kicked?” Heath asks and I smile at him, grateful that he’s trying to lighten the mood again.
“Oh yeah,” I say with a laugh, hitting my ball and watching as it rolls down the green, banking off of the wall, and rolling to a stop a few inches from the hole.
Heath groans and I grin, walking over and easily putting it in. He marks my score down on the card before he shoves the paper and pencil back in his pocket.
He bends down, setting up his ball, and when he stands up to putt, I can’t help but laugh. I swear that his arms are longer than the putter and he’s crouched down so low that he’s practically at a ninety-degree angle. I can see him grinning as he hits the ball.
He hit it way too hard and it goes sailing over to the green on the next hole.
“Just want to remind you that we’re still on the first hole,” I joke and he laughs, heading over to hit his ball again.
The rest of the game continues that way. I don’t think Heath makes a hole without hitting it at least ten times and by the time we’re done, his score is three times higher than mine.
“Thanks, that was a lot of fun,” I say, grinning up at him and he laughs.
“Yeah, it was.”
I love that he can take a joke and he isn’t super competitive. I don’t know why I thought he would be. Heath is the literal definition of a gentle giant.
“What should we do next?” he asks and I check my watch, surprised to see that we spent close to an hour and a half playing mini golf.
“Can we grab something to eat?”
“Of course,” he says, taking my hand in his and leading me over to the Reef Beach Bar.
The place is right across from the water and everything in it seems to be painted some neon color. Heath pulls out a neon pink stool for me and I hop on, watching as he takes the neon green one beside me.
The waitress comes over to take our orders a few minutes later and we both get burgers with a Coke.
“You’ve lived in Cherry Falls all of your life, right?” I ask him, taking a sip of my drink.
“Yeah,” he says with a nod, his eyes locked on my mouth wrapped around my straw and my body starts to tingle as his eyes heat.
“You’ve probably been here a million times then, huh?”
“Not really. I used to come with Jacob sometimes, but I was always more of a loner. I’d rather be up in the mountains camping or something than around all of these people.”
I nod. He did seem more comfortable up in the woods than in this crowded bar.
“What about you?” Did you go to a lot of places like this when you were younger?”
“Well, I’m from New York City, so besides Coney Island, there really aren’t that many places like this in the city. My friends Sayler and Coraline would drag me out there sometimes but I always felt like a third wheel.”
“Why is that?” Heath asks with a frown.
“They were always like sisters. I met them when we were freshman in high school, and by then they had been best friends for close to a decade. It’s hard to compete with that kind of history.”
Our food comes and we both dig in.
“What did you like to do at Coney Island?” he asks after a minute.
“The arcade,” I answer right away, smiling as I remember the flashing lights and laughing as we tried to beat each other.
