Page 110 of Give & Take

I move forward to get a better look.

“Maybe not quite so far out there?” Raph says, running a thumbnail over his eyebrow.

He’s nervous.

“Are you scared of heights?” I ask.

“Aren’t you?”

“Not really.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down at the ocean. When he looks back at me he’s a little pale. “I’m respectful of heights. I don’t know why everyone isn’t. It seems like a necessary survival mechanism.”

I pick up a pebble and hurl it into the vast space before me. When I look back, Raph looks like he’s going to throw up. His arms twitch at his sides. I can tell he’s trying very hard not to pick me up and haul me backward.

I take pity on him and suggest we set up our picnic in a yellow-grass covered patch a safe distance back from the rocky cliff.

“Yes. That’s good. Very good,” he says, and then he does pick me up, by the waist. I shriek as he carries me to what he perceives is a safe distance.

“It was Cal who told me about this place,” Raph says after he sets me down, answering my question from earlier.

“Is this his make-out spot?” I ask.

Raph undoes his backpack. “Cal is so misunderstood.”

“Like you?”

He grins. “Yes.”

I know what he means, though. Everyone thinks Cal’s a player. He’s the most eligible bachelor in town, now that Mac is taken. Just like I thought Raph was out dating every girl in town.

“I like Cal,” I say. I do. He’s kind and funny, but has more depth than people give him credit for. I meet Raph’s eyes.

Raph tugs at the drawstring. “He likes you too.” He pulls out a soft plaid blanket and shakes it out before lowering it onto the grass. “He’s the one who told me not to give up on you.”

I blink. “You were going to give up on me?”

“No. But he still encouraged me. Silly Cal.”

I laugh softly.

Raph insists I relax while he gets things set up. He pulls out two plastic food containers, a baguette in a paper sleeve, and a bottle of cider with a swing-top lid. He’s even got a couple of steel camping goblets buried in the bottom of the pack. Once the food is all out—it’s a charcuterie plate he put together with cheeses and meats, olives and tiny pickles—he pops the top off the cider and fills both goblets.

“What should we toast to?” I ask.

“Our first date,” Raph says.

I guess it is.

We clink glasses. The cider is tart and bubbly. It feels fresh and clean on my tongue. We have nearly two hours before the girls’ class is over, and I sip slowly, languidly, determined to savor every moment of this magic alone time.

This first date.

Raph stretches out on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. I lean against the boulder behind me, soaking in the view—both the ocean and Raph, who looks like he should be in a magazine. Sexy Picnics Quarterly.

“Are you sorry we’re not at a fancy restaurant?” I ask after another sip of cider, feeling a little ridiculous. Giddy, maybe. “On display for the whole town?”

Raph pops an olive into his mouth. “Absolutely not. First of all, I’d like to restrict the number of men ogling you in that sundress to me. Second of all… no, Lana.” His eyes meet mine. In the long stretch of sunlight at this hour, his eyes look like dark honey. Or maybe that’s just me, my insides liquifying with his stare. He taps his toe against mine. “I’m on top of the world, Sunshine.”

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