“Nope,” I say. “No tour. Just exploring on our own.”

“Ah.” Her eyebrows lift. “Okay.”

“Isthat okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” She twists her lips. “Isn’t it kind of dangerous?”

“Sure. If you get too close to the lava.” I grin. “I promise I’ll keep you safe, Dani.”

The faintest shade of blush tinges her cheeks.

“Gonna hold you to that,” she says.

Once we getto the park, it’s about an hour-long hike across the lava fields. The terrain is rough and uneven, and whenever we encounter a large crack in the bed, I offer a hand to Dani, who accepts the help with one of her sweet smiles.

Soon, we see smoke rising up out of the ground ahead of us, and the air suddenly grows warmer.

“Feel that?” I say, looking over at Dani.

She nods. “I do. Wow.”

A little further on, we spot the lava flow. It’s moving slowly, expanding and unfurling in a way that I can only describe as mesmerizing. Dani and I approach it carefully—you better believe I’m ready to catch her if she stumbles—and watch in awe as the glowing red liquid overtakes a small plant, singeing the leaves first before it crushes and consumes the whole thing.

“Damn,” says Dani.

We find a safe place to sit nearby, close enough to have a good view of the lava flow but staying out of its path. For the next couple hours, we just hang out there, watching the lava, talking, and observing the other small groups of people who show up. We watch couples take selfies of themselves in front of the lava flow and numerous kids prod the lava with long sticks.

When daylight starts to wane, I bump my knee against hers.

“Come on,” I say. “There’s something else we should check out, too.”

“Something cooler than this?” Dani says.

“From what I read online, yeah,” I say.

We get up and start walking again, talking about how wild it is that the whole island—the whole state—was formed by volcanos. How wild it is that it’sstillgrowing.

And then we reach the edge of the cliff.

The sight that greets us is nothing short of spectacular: in the distance, neon-bright lava is spilling down the side of the cliff into the ocean, each crashing wave of water creating a cloud of red-orange steam.

“Oh…wow,” says Dani, pulling her eyes from the spectacle to look at me. “Cash. This is…I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, knowing exactly how she feels.

It’sdark by the time we make it back. We meet up with my family for dinner—none of them bat an eye when I tell them Dani is joining us for the meal—and then I walk Dani back to her hotel. When we reach the palm tree-flanked entrance, Dani suggests we see what kind of nightcap we can make from the contents of her mini fridge, and I tell her I’m up for the challenge.

Upstairs, though, we forget about the nightcap and the mini fridge. We forget about everything except each other. Or at least that’s what it feels like as I press her up against the wall and we kiss for the first time in ten years.

The familiarity of her lips is so fucking sweet.

But then Dani presses her hand against my chest, stopping what’s igniting between us. I pull back to get a good look at her eyes.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Sorry, I just…” She chews on her bottom lip. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not obvious that I do?”