“Me? Never.” I try to sound earnest, but I absolutely dragged out our time just to stay close to her a little longer. Our journey through the maze almost feels transformative. I don’t know what to do with my new feelings for her. And I definitely don’t want to say goodbye yet, even though we’ve now spent the entire day together.
I know she must be hungry by now. I myself am starving, as usual, so I order us each a bowl of chili and a pumpkin spice latte from the food truck parked only yards away. It’s delicious and warm, and Romilly gobbles her food down for once, but we finish eating much too soon.
Come on, Bash. One more activity to win more time with her.“Do one more thing with me. And then I’ll take you home.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What are you scheming now?”
“Apple picking.” I nod toward the nearby orchard. Baskets are already waiting between the rows of trees, and a few other people are collecting the fruit with laughter.
“Apple picking? Are you secretly a Hallmark movie protagonist?”
“Secretly?” I feign offense. “Come on. Let’s make it a competition. Who can find the largest, reddest apple in ten minutes?”
She narrows her eyes. “Alright. But don’t get upset when I destroy you.”
“Oh, it’s on.” Already, I’m moving toward the orchard. I pluck one off the nearest tree and hold it up. “This one is going to be the winner. Mark my words.”
Romilly shakes her head. “Too small, too green, and too weirdly shaped.” She tosses several apples into her own basket. They look a thousand times better than the one I just picked, so I swipe one of hers from her basket as soon as she turns around.
But she catches me instantly, and her mouth falls open. “Cheater!”
“Strategist,” I correct, grinning as I jog backward down the row to escape her playful wrath.
By the time the sun dips lower on the horizon, our baskets are brimming, and I’ve somehow managed to lose the competition by a landslide.
“As promised, I destroyed you.” Romilly holds up her basket. Her hair is adorably mussed. Twigs and hay stick out of the tangles, and there’s even a smudge of dirt across her cheek.
“I let you win.” I lean against a tree and cross my arms.
“Sure you did. I’m going to have to make cider, or pie, or something. There’s no way I can eat all these apples before they go bad.”
I watch her inspect each one with such focus. I can’t help but smile because of how seriously she takes it.
We walk to my car. Once inside, I crank up the heater for her. She immediately places her hands in front of the vents.
“When can I take you out again?” The words slip out without my permission.
She sends me a sideways glance. “Bash.”
“Romilly.”
She bites her lip. “I don’t know.”
“You want to go out with me again, don’t you?”
She sighs, trying not to smile. “I’m not sure. This feels official. Are you asking to be my boyfriend now?”
“If I asked, what would you say?”
“Probably no. You don’t seem like the commitment type.”
“Allow me to prove you wrong.”
Romilly laughs. “Bash…”
“How about just a date, then?”
A torturous, long moment passes before she responds under her breath. “I can’t.”
