Page 52 of Cherry Tree Ranch

I scowl at him. “What’s your problem all of a sudden? Why are you being so rude?”

“I don’t have a problem. Are you having a good time on your date?” He uncrosses his arms, failing to disguise the disdain in his voice.

My nostrils flare. “Cash.”

He gestures to move past me.

I block his path. “You do have a problem.”

“Nope. All good here.” His face is expressionless.

I grit my teeth and bite my tongue to keep from making a scene. I’d really like to yell at him right now, tell him he has no right to be weird with me when he’s the one who put me in a terrible position with his girlfriend.

“Please,” he says, a firm hand on my shoulder asking me to move. “I have two Sprites to get.”

My face falls, and it breaks his resolve for a moment.

“You even want a Sprite?”

I shake my head. I don’t find a guy ordering for me endearing. “Can you get me a lemonade instead?”

His eyes soften a bit. “Sure.”

I spend a few minutes in the bathroom calming down and gathering my thoughts, and then sit back down with Wyatt. My lemonade is waiting for me – and it’s not just lemonade. It’s lavender lemonade, my favourite, with two maraschino cherries floating on top, their stems stuck together. In spite of myself, I feel my heart ache.

“I’m sorry.” Wyatt frowns. “He brought us the wrong drinks. Not sure what it is, some sort of flowery lemonade. I’ll ask him get us Sprites.”

“No, this is great.” I smile down at the cherries.

The pizza is good, especially with a drizzle of honey on top – even if this one tastes like it’s got corn syrup as a filler. I make a mental note to check in with the owner about buying my honey for the tables. Wyatt laughs, grimacing, and tells me the honey is only for the crust. I don’t respond, and change the subject to his freshman year in college. Letting him talk about himself is far easier than sharing anything more about myself, like how much I like honey. I don’t get the impression he’d understand.

Cash checks in on us only when we’re finished, and Wyatt gives him a meagre tip. I look away awkwardly, and agree to go on to the arcade. I try to convince myself this is for the best. Wyatt likes me. And, clearly, nothing is going to happen with Cash.

I start with my favourite video game, Ms Pacman, while Wyatt plays Donkey Kong next to me. We whoop and holler at the games, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s like being a carefree kid again.

After several more rounds, we end up at pinball. I have my hands on the ball launcher when Wyatt’s arms wrap round mine. He pushes his chest against my back and covers my hand with his.

“Here,” he says, his chin brushing over my hair. “Do it like this.” He pulls the launcher hard and fast. I take a slow breath and allow him to stand with me. His grip on my hand is a little tight, but his warm chest feels nice against my back. His long, muscular arms holding me feel safer than I thought they would. I slap my hand against the flipper buttons on each side, even though the ball isn’t even close to the hole.

“Patience, Dahl,” he says, and lands a sweet peck on my cheek. This time the nickname on his lips doesn’t feel so cringy, especially when paired with a kiss that feels as nice as this one. Maybe I’ve been too critical. He probably ordered for me to make an effort on our first date, and it doesn’t exactly matter if he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. Wyatt is nice, and seriously cute.

I tilt my head up and the side of his mouth curls, telling me he liked the kiss too. “You’re adorable,” he whispers slowly on the edge of my ear. His breath tickles and in my moment of distraction, the ball slips between the flippers.

“Should we try again?” I ask, stuffing a hand in my pocket for a coin.

“Definitely.”

Cash comes into sight through the door between us. He stops dead in his tracks, noticing Wyatt’s body so close to mine with his hands round my waist, and time slows. The beads strung in the doorway do nothing to conceal him, frozen there with dirty dishes perched on his arm. Rather than zero emotion like before, he looks crestfallen.

I part my lips, wanting to say something, but I’m too stunned. The heat of his stare is unwavering. What does he want from me? Guys think girls are confusing and complicated, but they’re no easier to understand.

Cash walks away before Wyatt turns to discover what’s caught my eye.

It’s fine, I tell myself. Cash has no right to look upset. I should enjoy Wyatt’s company now. I should, I really should, but my confused heart is tugged in Cash’s direction.

After a couple more rounds of pinball, and my favourite game, Skee-ball, Wyatt offers to get us gelato. I ask him to get me pistachio, but if they don’t have it then a fruity flavour. Meanwhile, I try to get the Skee-ball in the ten-thousand-point hole.

Wyatt comes back with two heaped waffle cones.