The small beach is even smaller now. Everything is wet, hanging low as it’s saturated with rain. But the sky is clear. Not a cloud to be seen. Not even in the distance.
“You finish the rest of your MRE?” Peyton asks.
Grudgingly, I have to admit that it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. Not the best by far, but certainly not the worst either. “Yep. No waste. Even used the tiny square of toilet paper.”
He snorts. “Not so bad, huh?”
“Nah,” I agree.
He helps me into the kayak once we’re both in our life vests and pushes us into the lake. The sun is warm. I appreciate the heat on my skin. For a minute, I raise my face to the sky to let it warm me.
We made the decision late last night, when the storm seemed to be tapering off, to let the fire die out in hopes we’d be able to leave this morning. So I woke up chilly. Thankfully, Peyton had ideas on how to warm me up.
It worked.
Still, it’s nice to feel the sun on my skin. After a few minutes of Peyton doing all the work, I offer to help row. I don’t miss the amusement in his voice when he tells me to go for it.
I manage to only give him a face full of water twice.
We’re not in a hurry as we load the truck up with the gear. Peyton changes out of his water shoes and into sneakers before climbing in.
“You going to be hungry in an hour?” Peyton asks.
“I don’t know. An hour is hard to predict hunger. Are you going to be?”
He smirks. “Yes. I’m always hungry. I could probably eat every hour and be a very happy fat man.”
I roll my eyes, laughing.
“If you’re hungry, we can stop at the restaurant that donated the food for a hot meal. Granted, I’m kind of torn between which I want more—a hot meal or a shower.”
I hum in agreement. I’ll take whichever option means this time together isn’t quite over yet. I’m not ready for the end of this date. I love everything about this date.
“In that case, yes, I’ll be hungry.”
He flashes me a grin.
“Did I scar you from ever kayaking again?”
“No. I’m not sure I’ll ever venture out on my own. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be a dead body floating on the lake.”
“That’s morbid.”
“The closest I’ve ever come to being outdoors is volleyball in my backyard with my cousins. Also, I’m shit at volleyball.”
Peyton laughs. “Noted.”
A beat passes. “You don’t get many long weekends off like this, do you?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Did you miss football?”
He shrugs. “I like routine. I like knowing what expectations are on me and being able to check items off a to-do list. I rarely deviate from my daily patterns, so it’s both exciting and anxiety-inducing to change it up.”
“I’m a little surprised that you sound so rigid.”
“Even this weekend is a check box,” he says, flashing me a smile. “I had until this weekend to fulfill my promise of a date for the auction. Hell, even the date itself had checkboxes. Kayak, check. Picnic, check. Return date safely with a smile—still working on that.”
