Rachel

––––––––

I STOOD IN FRONT OF my mirror and changed my outfit for the hundredth time. I’d never cared what I wore around Ethan, but since he insisted that he wanted to “finally” take me on my first real date, I was questioning everything.

It’s just Ethan, Rachel...Just Ethan.

Reapplying my makeup, I settled on a pair of white jeans and a glittering purple tank top. Then I slipped into a pair of my silver wedge sandals and walked to the living room.

“Where the hell are you going?” Greg sat up on the couch, looking me up and down. “It’s a Tuesday night.”

“I have a date.”

“With your enemy?” He smiled. “Or your boyfriend? What are you two calling yourselves today?”

I laughed, avoiding the question.

“I was telling Ethan about some new house rules I’ve established for the two of you,” he said. “Feel free to buy me a drink this week, and I’ll tell you all about them.”

“You still owe me a drink from my first week here, Greg.”

“Friends don’t hold grudges, Rachel.” He lay back on the cushions. “It’s way past time to let that drink go. Also, tell Ethan he owes me fifty bucks for our bet.”

“Will do.” I walked to the front door. “What exactly was the bet?”

“That you both were full of shit,” he said, laughing. “Now, get out so I can rest before my company gets here.”

Laughing, I stepped outside and saw Ethan leaning against his car. He smiled at me—his dimples deepening, as he looked me up and down. “Are you ready this time, or do you need another hour to change jeans again?”

“I need another hour.” I headed to the other side of the car, but he blocked me.

“We’re not going in my car,” he said, pulling two helmets from the front seat. He pointed to the two mountain bikes near the mailbox.

“I thought you said that you were taking me out on a date.”

“I am.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to say, “just kidding,” but those words never came.

“You may want to put some different shoes on for the ride,” he said, popping his trunk. “You left a pair of tennis shoes in there.”

Confused, I took them out and tucked my wedges into my purse. I put on my helmet and buckled it, following him to the bikes.

“Try to keep up with me,” he said. “And if you fall off, try not to blame me for it like you did when we were nine.”

“I blamed you because you literally picked me up and threw me off my bike, Ethan.” I showed him my elbows. “I still have the scars to prove it.”

He smiled and looked me over one last time before pedaling down the street.

The wind hit my back as I followed his head, and by the time we reached the stop sign, we were side by side like we used to be when we were forced to ride together as kids.

As the sun set ahead of us, we pedaled through the back lanes of campus, past Main Street’s shops and eateries, and by the time the sun’s light was fading, he slowed a bit and led me to a part of the beach I’d never seen before.

Clear of tourists and residents, there was a long row of pastel-colored park benches, a small coffee shop, and a lone vending machine that was full of chocolate bars.

“This is it.” He stopped his bike in front of the machine. “Do you like it?”

I stopped and took off my helmet, looking around. As if he could tell how confused I was, he stepped closer and motioned for me to get off my bike. Then he locked it against the machine for me.

Clasping my hand, he walked me over to a yellow park bench. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and we stared at the ocean waves for several minutes.

“How am I stacking up against your first date list so far?” he asked.

“I told you I don’t have any lists anymore.”

.He blinked.

“Okay, fine. If I’m being honest, you’re failing.”

“I don’t see how,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “You’re not going to give me any bonus points?”

“Why would you get bonus points for making me ride my bike to a park bench, Ethan?”

A slow, sexy smile spread across his face, and he pressed his fingers under my chin. He tilted my head up, forcing me to see a blanket of stars against the darkening sky.

I stared at them in disbelief, feeling my heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” I said, looking at him again. “You definitely get bonus points for that, but I still don’t think that a park bench counts as a—”

He pressed his mouth against mine, and my sentence ended on his lips. He kissed me until I was breathless, making butterflies flutter wildly inside my chest.

“This part of the beach doesn’t allow cars,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “And the reason they don’t allow cars is because the five-star restaurant that’s down past the other park benches is owned by another hopeless romantic like you. She doesn’t want her dinner guests to be distracted by anything other than their conversations and the sound of the ocean.”

My jaw dropped, and he kissed me breathless all over again.

“Now...” He smiled and stood to his feet, pulling me up with him. “You have the stars, a private beach and a five-star restaurant, and a kiss.”

“It wasn’t a soul-searing one.”

“I beg to differ.” He pressed his hand against the small of my back. “Were there butterflies?”

“Not at all.” I blushed. “I think you’d have to kiss me again before I can tell.”

“Are you sure?” He smirked. “Or should we wait until after our mandatory conversation about books, art, and the things we love to do?”

“Did you keep a copy of my list?”

“I didn’t have to,” he said. “I’ve always remembered it.”

“Well, why did you tell me all the things I wanted were unrealistic?”

“Because they are.” He laughed, covering my mouth with his. “With anyone else who isn’t me.”