Page 89 of Autumn Kissed

When his truck pulls onto the drive, I think I might be sick. I’ve never been this anxious for a not-date before. Probably because this feels like a real date.

To make it less so, I hop out of the house before he can leave the truck, then I jog forward, holding up my hand to signal I can open the door myself.

He hesitates, but I purge forward anyway.

“Hi,” I greet, climbing in.

The truck is toasty warm and smells of barbecue pork and baked beans. My stomach rumbles. Maybe I haven’t eaten at all today.

Two drinks sit between us in the cup holders, and my mouth feels suddenly dry. I’ve clearly forgotten to hydrate today, too.

“Ready?” Archer asks, his eyes on me.

He’s trying to deduce how I feel, no doubt to see if I’m on the verge of crying again, so I smile, this time sincerely. “Yep.”

He pulls the truck out of the drive, and we head down the road, carrying on in casual conversation about the festival as we head in the direction of the high school.

“Find out anything new about your dad?” Archer asks.

My stomach drops. “Not really.”

He must have sensed my change in tone. He glances at me, still trying to gauge my reaction, but I look away. I don’t want to talk about Dad, and I’m glad when he doesn’t push it.

A few minutes later, taking the back roads to avoid closed-off Main Street, Archer turns down a road lined by an empty field beyond fluttering maples. Passing a few solitary houses, he reaches a secluded field, then pulls off to the side of the road and backs into a dirt pull-off.

I genuinely have no idea where we are, but as I look beyond the darkness, I catch sight of the high school in the distance, the large football screen revealing the title of the movie, Hotel Transylvania, though it’s only a few inches wide from where we’re parked.

I had no idea this place existed or that the high school was visible from here between the thick trees, but I can see dots of people gathering already on the field, blankets and lawn chairs scattered around them as small pinpricks of light in the darkness.

“Too far?” Archer asks.

“It’s perfect.”

We opt for eating on the edge of his tailgate. He throws a thick blanket on the cold metal for cushion, places the food and drinks on top, then turns toward me. “Can I help you up?”

“Sure,” I say, thinking he’s going to take my hand.

Instead, his fingers curl around my waist, and he lifts me effortlessly to seat me gently on the tailgate. I fight off my breathlessness as he hops up and spins around with ease at my right, a few inches of space between us as the truck bobs up and down.

His boots dangle beneath him, and in the dim light the back of his truck lights give off, I admire his footwear’s scarred leather and dirt-coated edges.

“Almost...ready...” he mumbles, tapping his phone a few times before staring straight ahead at the screen fields away.

I follow his gaze toward the high school, and when the Columbia logo lights up and the movie begins, music sounds from Archer’s phone. I peer down at it to see he’s playing the movie in time with the screening.

“Very clever,” I say.

“The sound is definitely gonna be off. And...” He pauses with a deflated look. “My phone is bigger than what we can see of the actual screen over there...I didn’t really think this through.”

I laugh. “It’s great. I’m not really here to watch the movie anyway.”

Our eyes catch, and the look he gives me makes my heart thud nervously against my chest.

He reaches behind him and extends a blanket toward me to place over my lap, then pulls open the bag of food, handing me a white takeout box. “I wasn’t sure what sides you wanted, so I got each of us two different options we can share if you’d like.”

Sharing food with cowboy Archer Kade. I’m dead and have officially made it to Heaven.

We take a few bites each of our own pulled pork sandwiches, and I try not to watch his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows or the way his jaw works as he chews.