An hour later, I got the text from Justin asking me to meet him outside. I sprang from the bed where I’d been lounging, having just video-called my parents and Faye, and rushed out the front door.

Justin awaited me out front, dressed in a sharp suit and leaning against the convertible. In one hand was a picnic basket, in the other a bottle of wine.

“A picnic?” I asked, intrigued. “Are we having dinner in the vineyard?”

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t need the helicopter for that, would we?”

“I suppose you’re right about that. So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said simply. “Now hop in, I want to get there before sunset.”

The sun had already begun its dip toward the horizon, and I guessed we had about thirty minutes before it went down completely. We jumped into the car and were off.

Justin zipped us down the road, and we soon arrived at the airport. One of his employees met us near the car and took it off our hands as we approached the helicopter. We climbed inside and, after getting strapped in, were soon airborne.

The helicopter rose up and up.

“There,” he said, pointing toward the west. “Check that out.”

I gasped as I saw what he was pointing to. It was the sunset, more brilliant and colorful than I’d ever seen. The red orb was surrounded by brilliant, swirling colors, the purple above fading into a coal-black night sky dotted with thousands of twinkling stars that were only visible this high up.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Nothing quite like a sunset from this height.”

He pointed the helicopter toward the east end of Long Island and flew. It was only about a five-minute ride until we reached the tip of the island, at the village of Montauk. We touched down at a small, private airfield and were soon back on our feet.

“The place is only a short walk from here,” said Justin. “Come on.”

Basket and wine in hand, he led me off the airfield and down to the eastern shore of the village. The lighthouse at the end of the island cast a thick beam of light out onto the ocean, the spotlight illuminating white crests of waves.

“How does a beachfront dinner work for you?” he asked.

“Works perfectly,” I said.

He opened up the basket and took out a blanket, unfolding it onto the sand. I took a seat as Justin unpacked the food.

“Went with some Italian today,” he said. “Thought it’d be good with the wine.”

“I love it.”

My heart soared as he got our dinners ready. I couldn’t get over how thoughtful and sweet it was. I’d never had a man treat me like this before.

“How is it?” asked Justin before taking a sip of his wine.

“So amazing,” I said. “You’ve…you’ve really gone all out for me this weekend.”

“I’m only in it for the duck wine,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

I laughed. “Jerk,” I said, playfully hitting him on the arm. I took a bite of my primavera, letting the flavors play on my tongue before swallowing.

“I thought about heading back into town again,” Justin said. “But I figure when you live in New York, you’ve got to take your quiet time when you can get it.”

“Very good call,” I said.

We worked through our dinners, finishing the meals with two big servings of tiramisu. Once we were done, I sat back on my elbows.

“I’m the perfect amount of full,” I said. “Not too much, but not hungry for more.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, sitting back next to me.

We said nothing for a time, instead watching the tide come in, listening to the soft hush of it crashing on the shore. The moon was a silver coin overhead, its sheen reflected on the water.

I glanced over to see that Justin was close to me, very close. His eyes were fixed forward, but he was close enough that I could feel his warmth, smell his scent.

I wanted him to kiss me. I knew that this was a platonic weekend away, only a “thank you” for my work on the show. But I didn’t care anymore—I wanted him, and I wanted him badly. All I could think about was if he felt the same way.

Then, Justin turned his head. We were even closer now, our lips mere inches apart. I could feel the heat grow between us, that wonderful tension that builds and builds right before a kiss. I closed my eyes, waiting for it.

But it never came.

Suddenly, Justin sprang to his feet.

“We…need to get going,” he said. “Not a good idea to be flying when it’s dark out. Come on.”

Disappointment hit me like a truck. I’d been so certain that he shared my attraction in that moment, but I guessed I was wrong.

Wordlessly, we gathered up everything, and soon made our way back to the helicopter and the vineyard. The view was as incredible as we soared, the glow of New York visible off in the distance.

But I couldn’t help but feel like there was some new tension between us, and not the good kind. Had he gotten the impression that I’d wanted him, only for him to decide that he didn’t want me back?

Something was on his mind, something making him silent and distant.

I worried I’d blown it, that I’d taken a fun weekend and screwed it all up with my obvious advances.

We were soon at the vineyard, the walk back up to our rooms as silent as the trip back from Montauk.

When I reached my door and took out my keycard, I glanced over at Justin.

“Thanks again,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone quiet. “No problem. Have a good night.”

I stepped into my room and shut the door, a mixture of sadness and disappointment whirling inside of me. I plopped down onto the bed, mad at myself for what I’d done, how I’d made my desires so obvious.

Before I could stew in my frustration for too long, however, a knock sounded at the door. Confused, I got up and answered it.

It was Justin.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

His answer came in the form of a sudden, passionate kiss.