“Did you get those from the resort?” I asked as he laid out what looked like breakfast burritos and fresh fruit.
“Nope. I made them fresh this morning.”
“You made these?” They looked even better than they smelled. Crispy toasted tortillas on the outside, gooey melted cheese oozing from the middle.
“Can’t hike on an empty stomach.” Noah kept a careful distance as he unscrewed a thermos. “Coffee?”
“God, yes.” I reached for it, but he pulled back.
He shook his head. “I like these hiking boots too much to risk them.”
“That was one time …”
“Three times actually.”
Noah poured the steaming liquid into a metal cup, maintaining a safe distance as he handed it over. “Better blow on it first. It’s hot.”
“I’m not completely helpless, you know.” But I blew on it a couple of times anyway, the rich aroma making my mouth water.
Noah sat at one end of the blanket, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the thermos, and I sat at the opposite corner.
“I have to admit, this sure beats my usual breakfasts,” I said, taking a sip. The coffee was still hot, but not so hot that I felt the urge to spit it on him.
“Your fancy LA restaurants don’t do sunrise picnics?”
“Usually just avocado toast with microgreens, or carefully arranged açai bowls.” I unwrapped the burrito, taking a small bite that turned into a bigger one. The eggs were perfectly seasoned, spicy, but not too spicy, and chunks of potato mixedwith green chilies, black beans, and salsa. The symphony of flavors exploded on my taste buds.
“This is incredible,” I said between bites. “Who are you, Gordon Ramsey? Or did you get the recipe from TikTok?”
“It was my mom’s recipe, actually.”
“Well, tell her I approve.”
Noah only smiled, taking another bite of his food.
“Most guys I know can barely make instant ramen. Although Parker makes a mean ramen mac and cheese.”
As Noah looked off into the distance, the morning light caught his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. He had a small scar near his temple I hadn’t noticed before. Somehow, it made his rugged look even more rugged.
“I’m not giving you the rest of mine if that’s why you’re staring at me.”
“I’m not staring.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I stuffed my mouth with burrito, a brilliant maneuver to avoid coming up with an excuse for staring at him again.
“Save room for dessert?” Noah asked.
“I always have room for dessert,” I said, mouth still full.
Noah reached in his backpack, pulled out two tightly wrapped mounds. He handed one to me, and I caught the slightest hesitation, not uncertainty about giving it to me, but something that looked almost like anticipation.
I peeled back the foil to discover a perfectly baked muffin, light and fluffy on the inside with a sugar-crusted top, bursting with bluish - purple berries. The smell was life-altering.
“Blueberry?”
“Huckleberry.” Noah pointed into the distance. “Picked from the side of that mountain right over there.”
