Besides the place that I hadn’t gone back to yet, Blake and I shared another spot in the Outer Banks that had a special meaning.

The Currituck Beach Lighthouse rose one hundred and sixty-two feet into the air, dusk setting in all around it. The brick and black wrought iron structure was beautiful, an Outer Banks landmark. And also one of the places that Patrick Sayer loved to take us when we were kids.

I’d texted Blake earlier in the day, asking her if she’d like to meet out here. It was one of the places I’d been meaning to visit since I’d gotten back, and it held memories for us.

“You brought dinner. Good dinner.” Blake eyed the bag in my hand as I walked up to the base of the lighthouse.

“I figure if we have to work for our food, it better be some good stuff.” I hold up the bag from Land & Sea, one of the high-end restaurants on this end of the Outer Banks. In the bag I carry rests two containers of paella, a vat of lobster bisque, two waters and utensils.

I didn’t say anything to Blake, but for me, this was our first official date in ten years. We were alone, at a spot that meant something to us. I’d gotten expensive food, and I planned to get her talking more once we got up there. It was a big risk, but maybe by the end of the night she would let me kiss her the way I’d been dying to ever since her birthday.

“How was your day?” I ask as I open the lighthouse door for her, directing her to the steps.

I may have been gone for a decade, but I still had connections. My father just happened to be very good friends with the family who now managed the lighthouse upkeep, and he may have slipped me a key. We were the only souls in the place at six p.m. on a Wednesday, and I liked it that way.

“Good, I worked on the books for Beachsiders, the local clothing boutiques. And then I took Rhett for a long walk, and we saw one of the big colts. He loves them, gets so excited when one of them takes the time to look his way. I swear, that dog would lick a burglar and then make him a cup of coffee.”

Listening to her talk about her dog puts a smile on my face. “Note to self, get in good with Rhett.”

“How about you?” I lift my hand out to help her onto the first step.

It’s two hundred and twenty-one steps to the top, and I want her to be comfortable for the journey.

“Well, I had a budget meeting with some of our investors. Which was as rousing as it sounds. And then I watched the horses on the motion-activated cameras we had installed in the woods. I love studying their patterns and movements. When I’m with the horses, or doing something for them, that’s when I’m happiest.”

We crest another flight, making our way up the winding staircase. “Are you finding that running the business isn’t everything you thought it would be?”

I shrug as we climb. “Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I love coming into the family business and trying to help it thrive. But … paperwork and file keeping was never me. It will never be me. It’s something I rush through to get to what I’m really passionate about, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

I don’t know why I’m telling her this, except for the fact that she was always the best listener.

“Well, I’m sure your father didn’t enjoy certain aspects of the job. You could always talk to him about how he balanced it.”

Looking at her, her cheeks a little pink from the exhausting climb, my lips tip up in the corner. “You were always the smartest.”

“No, you and Joel were smart. You just never used logic. It was always reactions first.”

It’s the first time she’s spoken about Joel to me in a manner that is cordial. I don’t want to press it, but it feels good to talk about him. I rarely ever get to.

We travel the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When we finally arrive at the top of the lighthouse, the sun has painted the sky reds, oranges and yellows. The view is breathtaking; it sweeps over Corolla, the town, the parks below, and out towards the ocean. The vast, endless sea that undulates and flows just like the lives of the people living on this peninsula.

“I forgot how gorgeous it is up here, I haven’t been to the top in forever.” Blake holds her hand like a visor against her forehead, blocking the sun from her eyes.

“Remember when we used to think this was the highest point of the earth? I remember thinking that we were kings and queens up here, looking out over our kingdom.”

Her hand grips the rail next to mine. “In a way, we were. Back then we thought we were invincible. It’s a naïve, powerful feeling to think nothing can touch you.”

I nodded without looking at her. “I guess the universe had its way of teaching us that lesson.”

I hadn’t meant for things to get this heavy, but our issues hung between us like dusty, old coats needing to be taken out of the closet.

“If that’s the case, then the universe gave me extra credit.”

Turning to Blake, I saw the frown marring her beautiful, peach lips.

“Your father?” I had to train my eyes not to look away from her. I owed her this, to be brave and present when broaching these hard subjects with her.

She sat, her back leaning against the brick lighthouse as the sun dipped below the sea. I joined her, setting the food down and out of my mind for now. I didn’t touch her, didn’t want to break her thoughts or the moment.

“After Joel died … well, you know my dad was always lonely. When my mother left after we were born, he tried his hardest to focus on us. To be happy and present, and most of the time he was. He was the perfect parent. But I always knew, deep in my heart, that he missed her. That there was a part of him that could never recover from her betrayal. And so after Joel died, it was like his entire heart, and personality, went with him. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t speak. He rarely left the house. I would find him standing in random rooms, just crying. Hyperventilating, as if the thought of breathing without Joel on this earth was a travesty. I understood it, but we couldn’t both break down. Someone had to take care of us.”

“So you did.” I picked up her hand, now understanding where her cold demeanor had come from.

From a young age, Blake had been independent. With no mother in a household of men, she’d adapted and learned to take care of everyone. I’d seen it when we were kids, and as we’d grown into more over time. But to take on her grieving father and put her own sadness to the side … it was no wonder she’d spent so much time stuck in a place where ghosts haunted her waking and dreaming hours.

She shrugged, an errant tear rolling down her cheek. With my thumb, I caught it, and pressed the salty liquid to my own lips.

“I had to. And it kept me from thinking, from sinking into my own pit of despair. If I focused on him, on getting my father to live for just a little while longer, then I didn’t have to address my own issues. But eventually, it took him.”

The chirping of a lone bird above our heads was the only sound for several minutes. I kept my hands wrapped around hers, as if at any moment the lighthouse might tip and she was my only lifeline.

“They say you can’t die of a broken heart, but I’ve witnessed it firsthand. It’s the most punishing, lonely disappearing act the world could ever sentence a person to.”

Her words cut straight to my heart, clogging the ventricles with emotion and causing it to stop up for a beat or two. I had been in so much pain after Joel died, after she banished me from our home. But I’d fought through it, alone.

And I wasn’t ready to talk about it, even though I’d been pushing her to.

“I didn’t mean for this to be so heavy when I asked you out, but I’m glad we can talk about it. I’m glad you feel open to talk about it with me.”

Her eyes are shining sapphires when she looks at me. “So this is a date, huh?”

Her tactic to evade works, and I’ll let her off the hook for now. “Well, I didn’t want to scare you off, but we are on top of a lighthouse and it’s a long way down so I don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

“Why don’t you show me what you brought to eat and then I’ll make up my mind if I’m staying or not?”

Flirting. She was flirting with me. And I found it funny that I was blushing a little.

Clearing my throat and the cobwebs of sadness from the moment, I reached over for the food bag. Unloading the containers, I presented her with one, and set a spoon on the soup container.

“Mmmmm, paella?! This smells amazing. I’m so hungry.” She dug in, her plastic fork scooping up a clam and some rice.

“Good to know your appetite is still the same ravenous beast as it was when we were seventeen.”

We ate for a little bit, inhaling the exotic seafood dish. At one point, I picked up the soup, no longer able to resist it. When I put the first spoonful on my tongue, I sighed because the creamy lobster bisque was just as good as I’d remembered.

“Give me some of that, you Soup Nazi!” Blake crooked an eyebrow at me.

“Using Seinfeld jokes to insult will never hurt me, Sayer.”

Instead of handing over the spoon and the container, and since we were on a date, I ladled up some soup and moved the spoon in front of her mouth. Her sarcastic expression fell, and was replaced with shyness. I nudge forward, telling her to let herself be vulnerable without actually saying it.

Blake opens the slightest bit, her tongue peeking out as I move the spoon past her lips. When the soup touches her tongue, she closes her eyes and makes a noise that radiates through me.

I’m not just feeding her, which is an intimate act within itself. No … she’s trusting me, giving a small part of herself to me. My spine tingles with arousal, with the need to touch her, to do way more than feed her this soup.

When she opens her eyes, I’m entranced by the blue flecks and gaze of desire.

“You did that on purpose.” She breathes.

“But it worked.”

I put the soup aside slowly, never breaking our eye contact. We move at the exact same time, placing our hands on each other’s faces like they might disappear if we don’t hold them steady.

My lips meet hers as the last rays of the sun kiss the landscape, and I’m lost in dusk and Blake. She’s everything I taste and the only scent on the planet. First love is an inevitable thing, it lives within your heart for eternity, bound to come back whenever its fire is stoked.

And with that kiss, we’d solidified our fire, burning like grand flames on the beach in the summer. It’s more than the rushed, hectic encounter we had that night after the sick horse was taken to the hospital.

It’s a promise, a flicker of hope. That a new era was coming and the tragedy of our past could stay exactly that, behind us.