If we stayed long enough, I would sit on my beach blanket, face away from the water, knees to my chest, and watch the sun set over the land. Even facing the water, I loved watching the sky changefrom blue to purple, pink, and orange before darkening to a deep blue and then black.
It was always one of my favorite views. Sometimes Sam and I would sit next to each other. We usually sat there in silence, absorbing the colors and the quiet.
The sunsets at Folly Beach aren’t the same as the ones on the west coast, where the sun sets over the water, causing it to gleam. But I will forever love the view, no matter which coast I’m on.
Sam parks his motorcycle in a designated space and shuts off the engine, sliding the kickstand into place. Slowly, I extract myself from him and his bike. I stand there watching him dismount, his body movements smooth, as if this is such a natural part of him. He removes his helmet as I continue to stare at him.
Sam catches my stare and smiles his big, brilliant smile that shows off the dimple in his left cheek. “Need help getting that off?” He gestures towards the helmet still on my head.
I reach up for the chin strap but struggle to find the end of it.
Sam walks up to me. “Allow me.” He reaches up and unfastens the chin strap, letting me pull the helmet off my head. He takes it from me and locks both helmets on what I realize are designated helmet holders.Handy.
My hand reaches for my braided hair, and I’m glad when it doesn’t feel like it’s a mess. Sam turns back to me and nods toward the beach, where I see a picnic blanket set up with a backpack in the center.
“You set this up and then came to get me?”
He looks at me with a guilty expression. “Actually, I asked a friend to set it up for us, so it wasn’t sitting out here for an hour.”
“Oh. Smart.” I lean down and start to remove my shoes and socks. “I don’t want to get sand in my shoes.”
“Good point.” He takes off his shoes and socks as well. Once our feet are bare, he takes my hand in his and leads us down to thepicnic spot. It’s still bright out, but we have about an hour before it’ll be too dark to see anything.
When we reach the blanket, he gestures for me to sit down. Unzipping the motorcycle jacket, I take it off and set it aside. I might want it as it cools off.
Sam sits next to me and reaches into the backpack. He hands me a glass bottle of root beer. I twist off the top and take a sip as he pulls out containers of food, two plates, napkins, forks, and a couple of light blankets.
He opens one container of what looks like pasta salad, scooping some out with a serving spoon, and places some on each of our plates. Next, Sam pulls another container with sandwiches. He hands me a plate, but stops midway. “Kat?”
“This is incredible.” My voice is thick. “You are incredible.” He sets the plate on the blanket in front of me, reaches for my hand, and brings it to his lips.
“I’m glad you like it.”
I’d always imagined going on a date with Sam. We often went to lunch and dinner together in college, but those times were nothing like this. This is romantic. A perfect setting. Something my mind could never imagine.
We quietly eat, the silence comfortable instead of awkward, and I laugh out loud at the memory of my not-date with Chris. How different these two men are and how different these experiences.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I was just thinking about my dinner with Chris.” I know I’ve said the wrong thing when Sam frowns, so I hurry to explain. “No, I mean. It was awful. I never told you because I was embarrassed. But it was so incredibly uncomfortable.”
The corners of his mouth lift into a wicked smile. “Awful, huh? What made it awful?”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, the biggest problem was that I realized I didn’t want to be on a date with him while we were driving to therestaurant. I couldn’t remember if we had said it was a date or if it was just friends hanging out. So, we were making small talk, and when we got there, it was just an uncomfortable silence.”
I shake my head at the memory. His gaze remains fixed on me as he lowers himself on the blanket, propping onto one elbow.
“Sam, I couldn’t even look at him; it was so awkward. Finally, he said something about it being weird, and he wasn’t even really sure why he asked me out. We agreed that we would eat our pizza and he would take me home right after.” I’m laughing now at the memory. “I was so relieved, and when we pulled up to the condo. He didn’t even walk me to the door. Just basically said, ‘Well, it was good seeing you again. Bye.’”
I look up at Sam, and his eyes are equally amused and upset. “He didn’t even walk you to your door?” The words are seething. “What an asshole.”
“It wasn’t like that. I think we just both realized what a terrible mistake we made.” I reach out and run my hand through his hair. “Besides, if things went well, you and I might not be sitting here on this incredibly thoughtful date.”
He sits up, scoots closer to me and puts his arm around me. Pulling me into his side, Sam kisses my forehead. “He didn’t know what was right in front of him.”
We finish eating, watching the waves and the impending sunset. When the weather starts to cool, Sam gets up and wraps one of the blankets around my shoulders, setting the other blanket next to him.
He sits back down next to me, starts to put his arm around my shoulders, but I stop him before he can. He looks at me with narrowed eyes, but quickly smiles when he realizes I’m putting the blanket around him as well. “Thanks.”
