Page 25 of Out Of Time

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Pulling up, the donut shop looked like your typical run-of-the-mill place. There wasn't anything special about it. It was an older building; the windows were grimy with old grease and beach film. In fact, the only thing remarkable about the place was that Remi was standing in front of it. She managed to somehow make everything more beautiful. Each time he saw her he noticed something new he liked about her. Like the way she had perfect ears, or the way her long fingers looked so elegant compared to his rough hands, or the way she always scrunched up her nose when she stopped laughing. But aside from the physical things, it was also the way she made him feel trulyseenby someone andlikedby someone enough for them to stay—forhimto stay.

“What should I order?” he asked as they stepped up to the counter to be greeted by a tired-looking older woman who leaned forward and tapped the sign that read:Cash only.

Max began to panic; he didn’t carry cash. Who evenusedcash anymore? He instinctually patted his pockets, the universal pantomime for,oh shit, I don't have money on me.He felt her soft hands on him, calming his frantic movements before she tangled her fingers in his, looking up at him with a calming, all-knowing smile.

He felt relieved.

He felt the panic roll away, like a wave that was there and then gone.

He felt her tiny thumb brush over the top of his.

She confidently began to order for both of them before moving her hand away to pull a folded twenty-dollar bill from her pocket to pay for the donuts.

This was new; being with someone who wanted to care for him, pay for him, comfort him. His head began to spin, overwhelmed with the idea of it all. His brain saidmen take care of women, but his heart saidwho made up that stupid ideologyto begin with anyway, people should just care for one another no matter what.

He wanted to push her away and tell her no, stop, he was a mess, and she had enough messes in her life to clean up in her line of work. But he didn't. Instead, he took the box of donuts and followed Remi down to the beach, each step uncertain as the night's darkness engulfed him.

They sat in the sand, side by side, closer than he intended. As if there were a gravitational pull between them, they ended up hip to hip, leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder. Max shuddered, his body unfamiliar with this kind of physical connection, it had been so long for him.

“So, I have an idea,” Remi said while kicking off her battered checkered Vans. He noticed this time her toenails were painted neon green before she dug them into the sand.

“Okay. What’s your plan?” he asked.

“I got a half dozen. All different donuts. I say we take one bite of each, and then we have to guess which one was each other’s favorite. And if we get it right, the other person has to run into the water.”

“How will you know I’m not lying about my favorite to save myself from the plunge?” he asked, a skeptic if nothing else.

“Because I trust you,” she said simply.

“And how will I knowyou'renot lying to me?”

“Because I think you trust me too,” she said, opening the pink donut box. She reached in and pulled out the powdered jelly-filled donut. Taking the first bite, she covered her mouth to laugh as a drop of jelly covered the corner of her lips.

He took the donut from her and took a massive bite. Raspberry jelly oozed out from the other end and he pulled his legs apart just in time for it to miss his suit pants. Instinctively, he buried the jam in the sand. He wished he could move asquickly and be as alert with the puck as he had been with the guts of the raspberry donut.

“Next up, a classic: glazed twist,” Remi said, taking a bite before she handed it to him. He watched as she happily chewed, doing a little celebratory dance, and he wondered if she might have just given herself away. He would hang on to the memory of her little dance, and the way her lips curled up in a smile when it came time to guess her favorite donut.

“You pick the next one,” she said, pushing the box at him.

“I feel like this is a trick.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” she asked with a dubious grin on her face.

“I think you probably don't want to end up in that water just as much as I don't. So, you might have me pick the next donut to get some kind of idea of what my favorite might be.”

This made Remi laugh, her head falling back, the moonlight hitting her collarbone and causing the tiny sun charm that hung from the golden necklace she always wore to shine. He wanted to lean in and kiss it. Not her skin, not her neck, but the charm. He wanted to press his lips against the golden sun just to see if the warmth of her body heated it enough to burn his lips, because Remi was fire, yet everything about her cooled him to his core.

“Okay, calm down, Sherlock,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his, “I just wanted you to get the first bite.”

Max looked at the box. One had coconut, and he hated coconut. He grabbed it and took the first bite. Because Sherlock or not, he was going to try like hell to avoid getting into that water. He smiled a bit, chewing up what felt like dehydrated suntan lotion strips, pretending to like it.

“Ah, a bold move,” she said, taking her bite. “Not a fan favorite, but I like your enthusiasm.”

He just shook his head, trying to hide his smile.

“Go again,” she encouraged.

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