Page 7

SIX

Ellie

THEN

Freshman Year

O wen?” I opened the door to find him standing on my front porch, a bouquet of yellow daisies in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

I surveyed his attire. Blue button-up shirt and slacks. Was he trying to impress someone? I looked back at the flowers, and then I realized—oh. Me . He was trying to impress me.

“These are for you,” he said, offering me the bundle.

I giggled, taking them and burying my nose in the bouquet. “You didn’t have to get me flowers, Owen.” Again . He’d given me a bundle of daisies on the night he’d asked me to prom in the treehouse.

“I did. I do.” He cleared his throat. “I want to do this right, Ellie.”

A blush covered my cheeks, and I fiddled with the ends of the flowers in my arms. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Actually, I, uh—do you want to get dinner tonight?”

I bit my lip to hold back a smile. “Are you asking me on a date, Hockey Boy? ”

“Depends, Skater Girl.”

“On?” I fluttered my eyelashes, enjoying the way he was looking at me. Like I was the only girl in the world.

“Whether you’re saying yes.” He winked.

I looked down at my outfit. I was still wearing the jeans I’d worn to school and my favorite scoop-neck long-sleeved bodysuit. “Can I have a few minutes to change?”

Owen laughed. “Of course, El.”

Rushing upstairs, I rifled through my closet. What did you wear on a first date, anyway? And it was my first ever. I’d never had a boyfriend before, let alone gone out with anyone. I didn’t have time to be flirting, not when I was constantly at the rink skating. But this was different.

Twenty minutes later, I was back downstairs, dressed in a white sundress—with a chunky cardigan in my arms in case I got cold—and a pair of flats.

“Ready.” I smiled at Owen—he was standing right inside the doorway, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair like he was nervous.

My mom came out, still dressed in her dance clothes, like she’d just come from the studio. “You two have fun.” She pulled her hair out of the tight bun she’d had it in, her blonde hair falling down to her shoulders.

He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Mrs. B. We won’t be home too late.”

“I know.” She focused on him, giving him a look that I’d been on the other end of too many times to count. “I trust you, Owen. Don’t give me a reason not to.”

He nodded, placing a hand on my back to guide me out the door and towards his truck. “She’s terrifying.”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “My mom?” She was five four and built like a dancer, and no one had ever described her as intimidating before. Especially not a six-foot something hockey player who spent his days slamming into people on the ice. “ Really ? ”

“Uh-huh. Did you not see the look she was giving me back there?” He shuddered. “Pretty sure if anything happened to you, she’d never let me forget it.”

I wrapped my arm around his, leaning on him as we walked to his truck. “Good thing you won’t let anything happen to me then, huh?”

“Never,” he promised.

It was a statement I felt down to my bones. Because I knew he meant it. That he’d be there for me. He always had been.

Owen drove us to the edge of Forest Park, pulling into a parking lot where one trail-head started.

I frowned, looking down at my shoes as he put the truck into park. “I didn’t really dress for hiking…”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, looking over at me. “We’re not going hiking.”

Raising an eyebrow, I sat up straighter. “Then what are we doing in the woods?”

“Come on. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

He winked, swinging the door open and hopping out. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a second.”

Then, after scooping a mysterious bundle and large blanket out of the backseat, he closed the door. I heard him rustling around in the truck bed, but I didn’t turn my head to look at what he was doing. Whatever his surprise was, it felt special.

A few minutes later, my door opened, and Owen offered me a hand. Taking it, he guided me out and around to the back of the truck, where he’d lowered the tailgate down. The entire bed was full of blankets and pillows, plus a picnic basket and a bottle of sparkling apple cider in the corner.

“What’s all this?” I turned to him, shocked, and he looked bashful.

“Wanted to do something special for our first date.” He looked around at the calm woods. There weren’t any other cars out here, and it was surprisingly peaceful.

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I hugged him. “Thank you.”

He wrapped his hands around my waist, lifting me up into the truck before hopping up after me. I sprawled back against the pillows, looking up towards the tops of the trees.

“It’s beautiful here,” I murmured.

“You know it’s where my parents got engaged?” he asked, sitting next to me, his long legs stretching out across the bed.

I shook my head. I hadn’t. Though I’d heard the story of my parents and how they’d gotten together, and I knew that his parents had met while she was a grad student at the University he taught at, I’d never heard how he’d proposed.

Owen continued his story. “He set up a scavenger hunt for her, sending her all over Portland to places that were memorable to them. It ended here, where Snowball was holding the final envelope and when Mom looked up, Dad was down on one knee.”

Snowball—a fluffy white Samoyed—was Matthew’s dog from before he met Noelle. Though she’d passed years ago from old age and I didn’t remember her much, I knew how much the dog meant to the Harpers.

“That’s so cute,” I said, looking over at him.

He had a faint blush on his cheekbones, and he looked away. “Yeah. They used to come up here and take the dogs on walks and runs. And then Pen and I when we were small, too. I guess it’s why I’ve always loved it. The smell of the pines, the fresh air, looking up at the trees and realizing how small you are… It’s grounding. Once I got my license, I drove up here an d just sat for a while. Now, whenever I get stressed, this is where I go.”

“Wow,” I said, suppressing a little shiver. My lips tiltled up when I realized that he’d brought me to his special place.

Owen grabbed a blanket and reached across, draping it over my lap before scooting closer. “You cold?”

“Oh.” I played with the plush fabric. “Guess I left my cardigan in the cab.” I didn’t want to explain that the reason I had shivered had nothing to do with the temperature outside but everything to do with the conviction in his voice.

He hummed, changing the subject by asking, “Are you excited for prom?”

I nodded, watching as Owen grabbed the bottle of sparkling cider, unwrapping the top before popping it open. “I didn’t expect to go this year, that’s for sure. All my friends are jealous.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” he murmured, handing me a glass.

I took a sip, hoping I could hide my blush. “Mom’s making my dress. We picked out fabric last weekend.” Knowing my mom, it would be done with plenty of time to spare. She loved sewing, even making her own wedding dress. One day, I hoped she’d make mine, too.

“What color is it?” He asked, perking up like an adorable puppy.

I bit my lip, trying so hard to play it cool. “Why? Are you going to match me?”

“Of course.” Owen winked, drinking from his flute of apple cider. “What sort of date would I be if I didn’t?”

That made my heart flutter in my chest. “It’s this really pretty shimmery light blue.”

He closed his eyes like he was picturing it, and I took that moment to appreciate him . That firm chest, the bulk of him. I’d never really considered a boy like that before, but suddenly, I was hyper-aware of the fact that this was a date .

At how close we were together. I finished my glass and set it down next to me. He wasn’t a boy anymore. No, he was all man.

“This is nice,” I whispered.

“Yeah?” He reached over, brushing a strand of hair off my face.

I nodded. “What’s in the basket?”

Owen laughed. “Nothing too fancy. Sandwiches, fruit, and mom made some pastries.”

“Yum. Sounds perfect.”

He grinned, and we both looked at each other. I wasn’t sure I was breathing. Not when his eyes were tracing my face, darting down to my lips and then back up.

Was he going to?—?

“Ellie.” Owen murmured, tracing my jaw with his finger.

“Hm?”

“Can I…” He swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

I’d never been kissed before. But I wanted him to kiss me. Even if this didn’t last, him being my first kiss felt special. Owen and I were friends. And now we were more .

He held my face with his hand, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. Soft and warm and… perfect . It wasn’t more than a soft kiss. No tongue—though I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, anyway.

We pulled apart, and I blushed, holding my cheeks in my hand.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, his voice sounding deeper than before.

I nodded, and we ate as the sun set, enjoying the view as I snuggled into his side, feeling like there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.

And no one else I’d rather be there with.