I’m lying back on the warm grass and watching the clouds overhead turn into giant Macy’s Parade floating cartoons. I swear that I’ve already watched Mickey Mouse and my favorite princess of all time, Belle, go floating by in the warm sun. Cole told me I didn’t need to sit like a statue after I held my unnatural pose for the first five minutes and started to cramp up in my back. He laughed at me, telling me to just relax, so I decided lying down was probably the best thing to do.

I explore the hilltop with my gaze, soaking in the tiny wild flowers beginning to blossom in the ankle high grass. Growing up in the city, I never had a lot of time in nature as a child. However, I always treasured when my mother took me camping. It was only for one week a year, but those seven days made me feel like an ancient explorer discovering a new world. I remember spending hot, lazy days in a cabin by the lake and chasing frogs to proudly show my mother. One time, we spent the entire afternoon making beautiful necklaces from flowers. It was always so wonderful to have her entirely to myself. As a single mom, she had to be the breadwinner. Sometimes she was stretched pretty thin, so I loved those days when I had her all to myself and the only worry we had in the day was what we would eat for dinner.

My eyes drift back into focus from a time gone by and zero in on a dandelion about five feet away. While the other yellow weeds are just starting to open their golden heads, this one is already white and wispy, ready to spread its aged seeds of wisdom to bring the next generation into existence.

“Hey, is it okay if I get up?” I don’t want to interrupt Cole’s process, but I can’t contain my excitement over my find.

“I’m pretty much done here, so knock your socks off,” he looks up from the paper he’s been unblinkingly working on with a wink. Heat floods through me, spreading from my cheeks down my chest and billowing out between my thighs. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I’ve met many men in my life, but not a single one who could so innocently wink at me and reduce me to a quivering pile of intense desire.

I try not to let myself stare at him like a puppy dog, instead refocusing on the dandelion across the way. I clumsily manage to get my feet under me and the world swirls around me in a mosaic of green hues while my eyes try to track properly, but have a hard time keeping things straight. It hasn’t helped that I’ve probably drank more booze this afternoon than I’ve ever consumed in my life.

I pluck my walking stick from the ground, genuinely in need of the stability it can provide. Not because of my ankle, but my alcohol induced double vision. I don’t want to look like a lush, so I manage to force my feet forward and stumble over to the weeds.

Lucky for me, Cole isn’t expecting me to be able to walk a straight line with the injury I’ve been playing up. I reach the fluffy white-haired flower and sink down to the ground, picking it from the ground where the stem meets the dirt.

Holding it reverently in my hands, I smile at the little spikes of seeds attached to the pale, dimpled head. My mind flashes back to simpler days, when Mama and I spent long days at the camp letting our skin get kissed with bronze from the summer sun.

“Make a wish, Abbie,” I can still hear her voice, like she’s sitting beside me now. I want to reach out and grab her hand. I want to feel her arms around me, but I know she’s gone. I know the voice I hear is only in my memory.

Still, I close my eyes and let my heart explore my deepest desire. What do I want more than anything in the world? It doesn’t take much soul searching to come up with the answer. I want to feel this way forever. I want every day to be filled with the magic of adventure.

I want him.

I blow on the seeds and watch as they float over the field, some dropping on the grass quickly, while others lift up to the sky, carrying with them my deepest wish.

“I’m finished,” Cole calls out, and I open my eyes and look back over my shoulder at him.

With the help of my jingling walking stick, I manage to find myself moving back toward him.

“Well, what do you think?” he tilts the journal so I have full view of the page. My mouth opens, but no noise comes out. I can’t believe how beautiful he’s drawn me. Is that how he sees me? I look up at him in awe.

“You hate it, don’t you? I told you that I couldn’t do you justice,” he lets the book fall from his hands next to him.

“No! That’s not it at all,” I protest weakly, but I can’t stop looking at his lips.

“Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings,” his voice is dry. I can hear his words and the exact opposite meaning underneath them.

“I love it,” I interrupt him. “I think,” the words are a cyclone in my head, “I’m pretty sure that I love… you,” my breath is hot as I exhale, burning my lips. Before I have time to overthink it, before I have time to second guess it, I lean into him and put my burning lips on his. Softly kissing him.