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“Do we have time for a walk?” I ask, glancing over at the newly arrived fishermen who carry lawn chairs as they walk off into the woods. I don’t know what they stand to catch off the path, but I don’t think much of it.

Endless swamp marshes surround Lake Osman, and I rarely wander far from the paths. Though the black bears are generally harmless, I don’t enjoy trying my luck. With the lake at the center, most people take boats out and fish there. It’s the lake I am drawn to each time I come. The quiet solitude of that vast expanse of water with the bald cypress trees standing silent sentry is the respite I need when my thoughts are too loud. Zuul and I used to walk these trails weekly before my parents died, and it took far too long for me to get back out here.

I don’t know why I wanted to bring Roman here, but I did.

“We have time,” he says. “Lead the way.”

“Go pick which trail,” I say, pointing to the wood and glass display sign at the edge of the parking lot. He walks ahead but turns back when he notices I don’t follow. “I’ll be there in a minute. Tossing my phone in the car,” I say.

He nods before continuing to the sign, and I take a picture of his ass to send to Hale.

It’s really not fair, is it?

It takes a moment for the picture to send, and Hale’s response is instant.

Christ, it’s really not. When will you be home?

idk. Dinner time? I probably need you to let Zuul outside for me.

For real?

Yeah, for real. Sorry.

Okay. Be careful. Love you.

Love you too.

Phone safely in my glove box, I jog over to where Roman looks at the trail map. I’m certain he chose his grey sweatpants specifically to torture me. He looks like a model for some giant man’s casual loungewear line. I wonder if men know what grey sweatpants do to us. The ones Roman wears are only a little baggy. Tight enough to show his tree trunk thighs, round ass, and thick dick, they’re torturous. When he shifts his balance from one leg to the other, I try to remember the tattoo I glimpsed on his thigh during our photo shoot.

It’s like he was built specifically to take advantage of each one of my weaknesses.

“Which one are you thinking?” I ask as I approach. I hook my arm in his, and he glances down as if I startled him. “Sorry.” I regret it, thinking perhaps he was right, and I do apologize too much.

He hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arm around me and tugging me in front of him. His arms go over my shoulders and he rests his chin on the top of my head. I’m not extremely tall for a woman, but the action makes me feel dainty when I so rarely do. He points toward a spot on the map as his other arm wraps a little tighter around my neck.

“This one.” He points to a trail closer to the lake. “It says it’s closed for the winter, but I’m feeling like having an adventure,” he says, tugging me back against his chest.

“You know, people get lost in this swamp and drown. There’s all sorts of stories about it.”

“I trust you. You won’t let us get lost,” he replies, and I squeeze his forearm with my hand. “You know this place like the back of your hand.”

I frown, trying to turn in his arms. “How do you know I know the park that well?”

“It was in your bio,” he says, wrapping another arm around my waist as he turns me to face the map. “You came here with your dad a lot?”

“Mmm,” I agree, nodding. “It’s been so long since I filled that out, I must have forgotten.”

He kisses the top of my head. “So, what do you say?”

The trailhead he wants to go on is one I do know extremely well, and an idea pops into my mind. It’s one of the worst ones I’ve had, but it’s something I want, nonetheless.

“On one condition,” I say, spinning to face him in his arms. “When we get there, you have to play a game with me.”

“Deal,” he says, and we step toward the gravel road.

* * *

It takesfifteen minutes to get to the path Roman chose, and by the end, we’ve discussed the logistics of our visit to his storage unit. It’s the same place Sasha and I use, and it’s on the way back to my apartment. When he starts planning what to cook for dinner afterward, I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I almost miss the trail marker.