“Trust me.” He tilts his head to look up at the sky through the windshield. “On a night like tonight, you’re going to love this.”
After a series of lefts and rights, there’s a brief break in the thick, dark pine trees. A clearing in an otherwise dense forest. I grew up in Wells Canyon, explored every dirt road in my dad’s beat-up pickup, but I don’t recognize this spot.
Colt pulls the truck to the side of the road and takes my hand, tugging me behind him. There’s a small nip of autumn in the night air, and I step in closer to him for warmth. A breeze rustles tall grass lining the road, and a nearby owl haunts the quiet night with its call.
“Come on, Mama. The hood will be nice and warm.”
He hikes his boot up onto the front driver’s side tire, and his jeans are pulled impossibly tight across his ass. Unable to help myself, I reach out and give it a light tap.
“Oh, honey, you smack my ass as hard as you want.”
He juts his backside out a little more, and I give him a spank that leaves my fingers tingling. I shake my wrist out with a smirk.
“That’s my girl.” His back foot bounces a few times before springing his entire body upward and onto the hood of the truck. The metal makes a noise as his ass sinks down an inch, and Colt’s eyes go wide. “Don’t worry, I can hit the underside of the hood, and that dent will disappear. Get on up here.”
Climbing into the passenger seat is a chore all on its own. The hood? Yeah, right.
He extends his hand. “I’ll pull you right up. All you gotta do is put a foot up on the tire and give me your hand.”
The second my foot leaves the ground, I remember an important problem. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
“Look around. Who are you going to flash? Come on, honey.” He gestures with his head.
With a resolute exhale, I take his hand and let the same strong bicep I had clamped between my teeth half an hour ago bulge and tighten to pull me onto the truck. The metal’s surprisingly warm against my bare legs, and I scooch in closer to Colt for additional warmth. Not letting go of his hold on me, Colt lays us back against the windshield, and my head finds a home nestled in the crook of his arm.
And I realize why he brought me here.
The inky blackness is freckled by millions of white spots of paint, reaching out for millions of light-years. I grew up in a small town, with merely a handful of streetlights and endless views of the sky, but I’ve never seen it like this. I haven’t had my field of vision full of nothing but stars, while wrapped in a lover’s arms in the middle of the forest.
Constellations burn bright, temporarily obscured by smallwisps of clouds billowing in a hurry. Colt and I, here on the hood of his truck, are so incredibly insignificant, and yet tonight feels like the most significant night of my life.
“Cygnus is real bright tonight.” He points up and to the left of us, and my gaze follows his fingertip, unsure what I’m supposed to be looking at. It’s nothing but a blanket of stars, none seemingly any different than the rest.
“The only thing I can make out is the Big Dipper.” My arm crosses over his to point at the spoon-shaped smattering of stars. That’s about the extent of my solar system knowledge. “Oh, and a plane going by.”
Colt wraps his hand around my wrist, guiding my extended finger right to where he wants it. I’m pointing at a particularly bright star, but I still have no idea what else I’m supposed to be seeing. I close one eye, hoping for a new perspective. Nothing.
“Cygnus is supposed to look like a flying swan. The brightest star here is its tail.” My hand traces the night sky under his control. “And these,” he says, moving our hands in a cross-shaped pattern across the stars, “are the wings and head. The star that makes up the tail isn’t always this bright and easy to find. So consider yourself lucky.”
Oh, I do.
“Want to know something cool?” He quickly shifts his head to look at me before returning to the stunning canvas overhead.
“Always.”
“The star that makes up its head,” he points a slightly shaky finger, allowing me time to follow it with my eyes before he drops his hand, “is actually two stars. They’re binary stars, which means the smaller companion orbits the primary star. They’re pulled together by gravity—so close they look like one star to the naked eye.”
I stare up at Cygnus, which has become unmissable after he methodically painted it for me. Searching around for othershapes in the night, I become completely lost. But I keep circling back to Cygnus.
“Do you know any other constellations?”
“An embarrassing amount, if I’m being honest.” He rolls his head to the side to look at me, a defined crinkle across the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not embarrassing unless you tell me you learned about them specifically so you can give every woman this romantic of a first date.”
“Can I be honest?”
I nod tentatively.
