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“Holy shit, did you see that? That couldn’t have been normal, right?”
“Normal, expected, and the entire reason we’re here,” he said, dimples popping as he smiled impishly. He pointed across the water to where the plane was still taxiing. “That’s DCA over there. This park is called Gravelly Point, and people come out here to watch the planes land and take off.”
“That was wild. I had no idea this was out here.”
“Most people don’t. I know I promised to show you the most beautiful parts of the city, and this is not really beautiful or technically within the city, but—”
“It’s amazing,” I interrupted. “And a total rush. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Come on,” he said, taking my still-sweating hand in his and leading me toward the grass. “Let’s set up that picnic.”
? ? ?
“THIS LOOKS INCREDIBLE,” I said, admiring the feast of crudités, baguette, grapes, and a variety of cheeses that Max had arranged on a red-and-white-checkered blanket. “I mean, what are you even doing with that blanket? It’s a perfect picnic blanket and makes the whole thing look like something out of a magazine. Which, I’m sure you realize, is total catnip for me. I’ve got to take a picture of this.”
“You said you rated dates on Instagramability,” he said, grinning. “And I’ll confess, I bought the blanket especially for this.”
“I knew it!” I laughed, swatting at him. “The only people with checkered picnic blankets are suburban moms from the fifties and influencers.”
“And those who want to impress them.”
“Well, it worked,” I teased while I snapped a photo and quickly applied my preset filter. As I was typing out a caption, the sky broke apart with the thunderous sound of another plane arriving. Even though I knew what to expect this time, my heart jumped as I looked up to see the belly of a red-and-blue plane flying low above us.
“Wow,” I said. “Where do you think this one’s coming from?”
He tilted his face upward and the sunlight caught his blond curls, turning them golden. He thought for a moment and then decisively said, “Dallas.”
“No way,” I protested. “Not Dallas. Somewhere more exotic. Thailand, maybe.”
“Maybe,” he said slowly. “Although that would be unusual, considering DCA doesn’t service international flights.”
I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue, making him laugh.
“Here, look, there’s this app where you can see what planes are coming from where,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He tapped on it briefly, then held it up in the air and beckoned me to look at it with him. “See? You can see where the planes are coming and if you tap on them—see, like this? It’ll tell you where they’re coming from and where they’re going.”
“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” I said begrudgingly. “Not quite as cool as Thailand, but pretty cool.”
He smiled and lowered his phone. “Have you ever been to Thailand?”
“No, but it’s at the very top of my bucket list. I’ve been planning my fantasy vacation there for years. Seriously, I have this Pinterest board crammed full of articles on the best places to eat in Bangkok and the best islands for snorkeling.”
“You should stop planning and just go. I went a few years ago, and it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I spent a few days in Bangkok, a few more in Chiang Mai, and then a week island hopping. I can give you all sorts of recommendations.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that someday. If I ever find someone to go with me.”
“I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding a travel companion. What about Cat?”
“Oh, come on, you know Cat. Can you honestly imagine her taking time off work?”
“She is a little tightly wound,” he allowed, smiling crookedly. “Here, tell you what: if you can’t find someone who wants to go, I’ll go with you.”
“Sure.” I laughed. “We just met, let’s fly to Asia together! It can be our third date. What could go wrong?”
He laughed with me, but soon our laughter faded and we were left looking at each other with goofy half smiles on our faces. Max’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and then he leaned toward me. I closed the distance between us, our lips meeting in the middle. He cupped my face in his hands, the slightly rough pads of his thumbs stroking my cheeks, and warmth spread like molten lava through my limbs. Dimly, I heard the roar of another plane, but all I could focus on was Max, on the connection of our mouths and the smell of his skin.
Roses are red, violets are blue, some flowers are headless, you could be too.
I shivered involuntarily as the rhyme resurfaced suddenly and without warning, and Max pulled away, his eyebrows knitted in concern.
“Is something wrong?”
I shook my head and reached for him, but he held me off.
“Are you sure? Was I too forward there? I was just kidding about—”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I promised. “Just some online stuff I thought about for a second. It’s nothing.”
“Online stuff?” He tilted his head. “You mean your . . . what did you call them? Presets?”