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“Are we in trouble?”
I smile and shake my head. “No, on the contrary. Even though a relationship between us is frowned upon, Dr. Smith offered to grade your assignments. So, even though we still can’t be seen in public, if something were to be said about us, I’m no longer in charge of your grades. Technically, I’m not breaking any codes at school.”
Ruin gets up from her chair and lunges at me, so I hug her—inhaling her apple and honey scent is like hugging fall.
“Oh, Gio, this is the best news ever. I’m so thankful Dr. Smith is on our side, even though I can’t help but think Alyssa went and told him about us.”
I chuckle at her excitement, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not equally happy.
“Yeah, I have the same feeling about Alyssa, but I can’t prove she’s the one spreading the rumor. And Dr. Smith is an excellent mentor. He said he knew me, and knew I’d never get involved with a student to try and take advantage of her, but something tells me it was more than that.”
“What do you mean?” Ruin frowns, confusion transforming her face.
“Well, I hate to think this way, but I’m sure the donations I’ve made to the program played a part in his decision to help us out. I’m not proud of it, I’ve never donated money to gain any favors but…”
“You’re the best man I know, no one will second-guess your motives.” I smile at her compliment.
Once she moves back to her seat, we finish eating before heading out toward the beach, at her request.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Ruin says as she takes off running toward the pumpkin patch I had set up for us.
“I couldn’t go with you to the Apple Festival in your town, so I thought it’d be great if we could have our own private festival today.” Ruin squeals in delight, and my heart bursts with pride. I made her this happy.
“So, where do you want to start?” I ask her, and she looks around, taking in all the booths.
“Let’s go bobbing for apples first.”
I nod with a smile and motion for her to go ahead of me. I should have known she’s a pro; she got seven apples in one minute. I clap at her impressive record as she jumps up and down in excitement.
“Okay, Bianchi, your turn.” She points with her thumb to the basin full of apples as she moves away to give me room.
“Ohhh, sassy Ruin came to play.”
“You have no idea.” I swallow hard at the innuendo. Fuck, I’m playing with fire, but I can’t wait to go up in flames. A picture of Ruin bobbing her head while sucking my dick forms in my head, and I try to adjust the growing bulge in my pants. I think I’ll need to go for a swim in the cold ocean to cool off.
The girl who’s manning the booth sets up a timer, and once she says go, I go down hard and try to bite an apple, but they’re slippery. Ruin made it seem way easier. When the timer goes off, I’ve only managed to get two apples out of the basin, and Ruin raises her arms in victory. Meanwhile, I’m fighting for my life trying to catch my breath.
We end up playing cornhole, pumpkin ring toss, and an agility race, which to no one's surprise, Ruin beats me every single time. There’s also a DIY scarecrow and a pumpkin-carving station, where we spend most of the afternoon. After carefully selecting the pumpkins we were going to carve, I decide to make a robot-looking pumpkin, and Ruin goes for a more traditional jack-o’-lantern.
As the sun sets, the breeze turns chilly. After thanking the people who worked at our festival, we head inside.
“This is the most magical date I’ve ever had. I usually don’t get to enjoy the festival much back at home, since I’m working most of the day at my family’s booth,” Ruin says, her eyes glinting under the lights. The admiration I have for this woman keeps growing. Her sense of duty to her family is similar to the one I have for mine. She could rebel and say she wants to act her age and enjoy the festival, but instead, she chooses to help and put her family first. I’m happy I can give her some of those donated moments back.
“I’m so glad you think so, but the day isn’t over yet.” Ruin gives me a puzzled look as I get closer to her and hug her into me.
“What do you think about dinner with some music?”
“Ohh, what kind of music?” Ruin asks, intrigued.
“I hope you like country,” I say, trying to play it cool. I remember in one of our text exchanges, we spoke about our favorite artists.
“Are you kidding me? I love it.” My smile is wide at her words. I motion for her to follow me to the beach. The crew I hired has already cleaned up the festival supplies and set up a tent with a bonfire just outside. Fairy lights twinkle around the perimeter, casting a warm glow over a comfy couch covered with fuzzy blankets. A nearby table is stocked with pulled pork BBQ and apple cider.
Ruin turns around and mouths, “This is incredible,” and I just keep smiling. I never knew making someone happy would be so rewarding.
There’s a small stage, and Turner Scott—my favorite country singer—is looking right at us, a warm smile on his face.
“Good evening, Miss MacAllister. Do you have any requests tonight?” Turner asks a very blushing Ruin as he strums his guitar.