The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers, #1)(33)

“Explains what?”

“How weird you are.”

Not weird. In fact, all of those facts are going into my memory bank as we speak. Aeris usually has a way of distracting me, but I know I’ll remember every detail she told me.

Aeris sticks her tongue out. “You like it.”

“I love it,” I agree, and a blush stains that alabaster skin of hers. A blush that not even one of her well-angled head turns can hide.

“What about you? What’s the superstar NHL player hiding from his fans?” Her brows dip up and down as she smirks mischievously.

I know she meant it as a joke, but now I can’t stop thinking about the career-ending secret I’ve been harboring. You know, the one that brands our relationship with a capital “Fake.” My confidence has taken an unforeseen plunge, and nerves wriggle around in my body.

“I think mint chocolate-chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste. I’m deathly afraid of heights. My favorite color is gold, like the little flecks in your eyes. When I was younger, Faye’s hamster seemed lonely, so I brought him over to play with the neighbor’s dog. The dog ended up eating him right in front of me, and I never told Faye what happened. And…I’ve always secretly wanted a nipple piercing.”

“Honestly? I’m all in support of you getting a nipple piercing.”

I slap my hand against the steering wheel. “Right! Thank you. The guys were giving me so much shit for it. Piercings are hot.”

“I’ve never found guys with piercings that hot, but I think you could definitely change my mind,” she flirts.

“Aeris, was that a compliment?”

“And…I revoke it.”

“Nope, you can’t. You already gave it to me. I’ll cherish it for the rest of my life,” I declare, pretending to snatch her invisible compliment out of the air and place it over my heart.

Instead of fighting me, she only rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Do you want to work at your job for the rest of your life?” I ask.

Aeris fiddles with the scalloped trim on her dress. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I have this unrealistic fantasy that I’ll meet a billionaire at the grocery store when we bond over our love for pickles, and that he’ll be so obsessed with me that he’ll offer me a room in his mansion,” she says. “And then we’ll eventually get married, adopt five cats, and have two children. Preferably a boy and a girl.”

I’m not a billionaire, and I don’t particularly like pickles, but I think I am obsessed with Aeris. Just a little bit.

“That sounds very…romance-y. Let me guess, he’s also a Mafia boss who’ll kill anyone who touches you?”

Aeris gasps dramatically. “You read romance books?”

“My sister does,” I correct. “Though I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t read one while taking a bubble bath before.”

“Knowing you read has made you ten times more attractive.”

“Ten times? That seems like a lot,” I mutter.

She penetrates me with a fully loaded stare, one that would be frightening if she didn’t look so adorable. “Yeah, I subtracted four points for being annoying. And cocky. And freakishly persistent.”

I feign hurt. “But those are all of my best qualities.”

“Best might be stretching it,” she says.

I click on the turn signal and take a right. “If you have a different opinion, I’d love to hear it.”

“Nice try. I’ve already inflated your ego enough today.”

“Fine, but I’m only letting you off the hook because we’re here.”

When we round the hill, a large glade comes into view. The space sits amidst a bank of lowlying boulders and elderberry bushes, bordered by a copse of sycamores and a thick, blanketed underbrush. Sunbeams stream through the window and fall in lacework over Aeris’ shoulders, highlighting that perfect side profile of hers, weaving into strands of her hair. Her eyes widen upon taking in the picture of paradise, and then she looks at me with affection so strong that it strikes my heart, maybe even stopping it for a second.





17





DESSERT’S ON ME





AERIS





When we get out of the car, the crisp air pervades my nostrils, and a slight breeze whispers over my skin, making the hem of my dress billow. The sorbet sky is clear with the exception of a few clouds, and if I look hard enough, I can faintly see a studding of stars throughout the backdrop of space.

Hayes leads me over to the center of the clearing, and once we find a nice spot to settle in that’s not ridden with rocks and overgrown roots, we plant our stake. There’s absolutely no one in the area, which gives us some much-wanted privacy. He begins to set out our spread on the checkered blanket, and I’m at a loss for words when the food keeps coming, like the basket is some bottomless hole.

There’s a fruit salad, a charcuterie board, two BLTs, a jug of lemonade, and a container of snickerdoodles. Everything looks homemade, and I surmise that Hayes must have employed his cooking skills.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, giving my knee a small squeeze.

I nod, because I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that a person can be so considerate. Wilder never took me on dates, and whenever I’d ask him why, he’d turn the narrative on me and tell me I was being too clingy, or that I was asking too much of him. He told me couples didn’t need to go on dates to prove that they cared for each other. He told me I should be grateful he even made time for me with his start-up business taking off.