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Me:Might not need one, but it’d be nice to know I’m wanted.
The nerves that come with writing that sentence are sickening.
Ford:I’d say by the fourth bunch of flowers, you should have gotten that message.
Fuck, I even read that text in his flirty tone. My brain might still be confused by what’s happening, but my body is apparently excited by it.
Me:In that case, I better get busy. Can’t let you be the one to plan two dates in a row.
I bite my lip as the dots on the screen that show he’s typing dance and disappear again and again. Was that too far? Is he going to tell me that I need to back off? That tonight was a mess and we need to wake up to ourselves?
I should know Ford better than that.
Ford:Technically the next one will be our third. And you know what they say about third dates ;P
10
Ford
“Why did I agree to this?”I grumble, watching as Orson slides the canoe into the water.
I blew off work early for this too since our days off don’t line up together, and now I’m seriously questioning my sanity. But then I glance at Orson, and I come to terms with what a sucker I am. He wants to go canoeing, so I guess we’re going canoeing.
“You sure that thing’s gonna hold me?” I ask.
“Nope.” He pops thepsound.
I do a double take. “I swear, if we sink—”
“Then we’ll be swimming instead of canoeing.” His hands land on my shoulders and massage gently. “Just relax and get in the death trap.”
“Your sweet voice isn’t fooling anyone.” But despite my objections, I do exactly what I’m told. The canoe rocks alarmingly, and Orson cackles, the asshole, but as soon as I’m steady, he climbs in after me.
“You good?”
“Why anyone would want a boat when they can take a car is beyond me.” That said, it seems like a sturdy enough thing. Big and a fancy-looking bright blue against the dull water. Two comfy seats with goddamn cupholders. It’d be a professional canoer’s wet dream.
“Because we’re doing something different, you old grump.”
“There are plenty of different things we can do on dry land,” I throw back.
I’m met by Orson’s laugh. “And when you plan our next date, you can introduce me to all of those wonders.”
Maybe he’s only going along with my ridiculous date thing, but I love him joking about it. Probably more than I should, but I’m not about to put the brakes on now. I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess, though spending time with Orson isn’t exactly a hardship.
“Okay, if I have to do this, I’m going to do it well. How do we get started?”
“The paddle beside you.”
I turn and find one shiny metal pole with bright white paddles clipped to the side of the boat. It detaches with a tug, and Orson does the same with the one on the other side. It looks easy enough. I’ve seen people do this shit on TV. Not wanting to be out here longer than I need to be, I dig the paddle into the water and out again.
Splosh.
“Wait.Stop.”
I glance back to find Orson shaking water off his face.
“You trying to drown me?” he gasps.
