Page 79 of Dream On, Ramona Riley

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing Dylan’s hands. “I’m with you.”

Dylan wouldn’t tellRamona where they were going. After they left Clover Moon, she sent Ramona home with instructions towear something comfortable, which for Ramona meant a pair of mauve overalls with a black tee underneath, cuffed over a pair of lavender Docs with flower-shaped buckles.

“At least give me a hint,” Ramona said after Dylan picked her up in her rental car. They drove out of town and hit I-93 North.

Dylan shook her head. She was dressed in light-wash jeans and a maroon tee withLonely Only for Youin white script across the chest. “You’ll love it. Is that enough of a hint?”

“I also love hot dogs with mayonnaise, so…not really.”

Dylan laughed. “Are you serious? Mayonnaise?”

“It’s delicious!” Ramona said. “Mix in a little ketchup too, some salt and pepper. A delicacy.”

Dylan shook her head but kept smiling. Ramona smiled too, glanced out the window. It was early evening, the sun just starting to spread gold over the summer trees, turning the green leaves a softer yellow. It was lovely, and Ramona felt a swell of excitement as they headed deeper into the country.

She hadn’t been on a date in so long. With the excitement of the set and Noelle, it hadn’t truly hit her until now that she was on a date at all. Not just a hookup with Logan, which usually featured a cold beer seconds before they tumbled into bed, but a real date.

With Dylan Monroe.

Ramona nearly laughed. It was absurd, really, that she, this small-town waitress, would be on a date with an honest-to-god celebrity.

Maybe slumming it a little will calm Jack and Carrie’s wildling down a bit…

The gossipy article’s words came back to her like a hand to her face, swiping the smile right off. She went quiet, focused on the scenery out the window. She wasn’t even sure where they were. She’d lived in New Hampshire all her life but, honestly, didn’t venturebeyond Clover Lake very often, and if she did, it was south to Concord or Manchester for the bigger shops or the airport. She led a small life, and nothing made that more apparent than sitting next to Dylan Monroe.

“Almost there,” Dylan said softly, smiling at Ramona as she turned off the interstate, as though she could tell Ramona was a bit caught in her feelings.

“Andtherewould be?” Ramona asked.

“Nice try.” Dylan turned onto a secluded state road, which they stayed on for about a mile before turning left at a wooden sign that readThe Earthstars.

“What’s this?” Ramona asked, the dirt road bumping under the car’s tires.

“You’ll see.”

“Earthstars are actually a type of mushroom,” Ramona said.

“Is that so?” Dylan asked. The trees started to clear, and Ramona saw a flash of red up ahead.

“They’re one of my favorites,” she said. “Their name is really cool, but they also have this beautiful shape, like a flower and a starfish combined, and…they…”

But she trailed off as the trees completely cleared, revealing a red wooden building—more like a large cottage—nestled in the forest, green trees hugging the structure. A sign arched over the top of the teal front door.

The Earthstars Museum

“Wait…” Ramona said as Dylan pulled into a parking space. There were a few other cars in the gravel lot, and Ramona noticed there were tiny hand-painted mushrooms along the wooden railing that bordered the path to the door. “Is this…”

She looked at Dylan, who was watching her and smiling pretty damn smugly.

“Is this a mushroom museum?” Ramona asked.

Dylan’s smile widened. “I think it might be.”

Ramona glanced back at the building. “I didn’t even know this existed.”

“It just opened a few weeks ago. I found it on the internet during my lunch break today,” Dylan said, setting the car in park and unbuckling her seat belt. “You want to go inside?”

Ramona laughed, unbuckled her own belt. “Um, yes.”