The Fire Between High & Lo (Elements #2)(16)

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, staring at her, staring up. “It is.”

“That’s beautiful, too,” she said.

“What’s beautiful?”

Her lips turned up as she kept watching the stars. “The way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking.”

My heart skipped once.

She noticed me staring?

“Do you ever stare my way?”

She nodded slow. “And then when we aren’t together, I close my eyes, and I see you in my mind. That’s the moment when I never feel alone.”

I’m falling in love with you.

I wanted to open my mouth and tell her those words. I wanted to let her into my soul and tell her the stories of how I daydreamed about her. Then I remembered who she was, and who I was and why I couldn’t say those words.

The awkward silence stayed until Alyssa helped move it along.

“Oh! I also made a late-late night dinner for us,” she exclaimed, reaching for the picnic basket. “Now, I don’t want you to be offended by how amazing my food is. I know you’re used to being the best chef in town, but I think I might have topped you with this one.”

She reached into the basket and pulled out a container holding peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I laughed. “No way! You made this?”

“Fully from scratch. Except for the peanut butter, jam, and bread. That was all from the grocery store.”

My best friend, folks.

I bit into the sandwich. “Mixed berry jam?”

“Mixed berry jam.”

“Well aren’t you fancy?”

She smiled. And I died a little.

“For dessert, I have a package of raspberries, and these.” She pulled out a package of Oreos. “I went all out, didn’t I? Here.” She picked up a cookie, untwisted it, placed a raspberry inside, and put it back together. Then, she proceeded to fly it around like an airplane by my mouth. I opened wide, took a bit, and moaned.

She cocked an eyebrow, pleased. “Are you moaning over my cookies?”

“I’m definitely moaning over your cookies.”

She shimmied, and sighed dramatically. “If I had a dollar for every time a guy told me that.”

“You’d have one dollar and zero cents.”

She flipped me off, and I fell more for her. I couldn’t decide what I wanted more, her lips against mine, or her words. The idea of both entertained me more than I ever thought they could.

Words, go with words. “What’s your biggest dream?” I asked, tossing a few raspberries into my mouth, before throwing a few into hers.

“Biggest dream?”

“Yeah. What do you want to be or do in the future?”

She bit her bottom lip. “I want to play the piano and make people smile. Make people happy. I know it sounds little to a lot of people, like my mom. And I know it sounds like a stupid goal, but that’s what I want. I want my music to inspire people.”

“You can do it, Alyssa. You are already doing it.” I believed in her dream more than I could ever say. Whenever I heard her play the piano, it was as if all of the terrible parts of life kind of melted away. Her sounds made me find a few moments of peace.

“What about you?” she asked, placing a raspberry between my lips. I wasn’t really in a life situation where I’d ever been able to dream, but when I was with Alyssa, all of that seemed a little more possible.

“I want to be a chef. I want people to come in grumpy and leave happy because of what I put on their plate. I want people to feel good eating my food and forget all of the bullshit stuff going on in their real lives for a few minutes.”

“I love that. We should open a restaurant, toss a piano inside, and call it the AlyLo.”

“Or, LoAly,” I smirked.

“AlyLo sounds much, much better. Plus, it was my idea.”

“Well, let’s do it. Let’s open AlyLo and make amazing food and play amazing music, and live happily ever after.”

“The end?”

“The end.”

“Pinky?” she asked, extending her finger toward me. I wrapped my pinky with hers.

“Pinky.” Our hands kind of clasped together after that.

“What’s another dream of yours?” she asked.

I debated if I should tell her, because it seemed a little lame, but if there was anyone I trusted to not judge me, it was her. “I want to be a dad. I know that sounds stupid, but I really do. All my life I grew up with parents who didn’t know what it meant to love. But if I were a dad, I’d love them more than words could say. I’d show up to their baseball games, their dance recitals, and love them, regardless of if they wanted to be a lawyer or a garbage man. I’d be better than my parents.”

“I know you would, Lo. You would be a great dad.”

I don’t know why, but her saying that made my eyes tear up.

We stayed up there for a while, not speaking one word, but solely looking up.

It was still so peaceful up there. I couldn’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be. We hadn’t stopped holding hands. Did she like holding my hand? Did her heart flip every few seconds? Was she kind of, sort of falling in love with me, too? I held her hand tighter. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to let go.