Jay remained tight-lipped as he drove them through the city streets, skyscrapers shrinking in the rearview mirror until they were replaced by the quiet expanse of the suburbs.
“How much longer?” Aaron asked. “Am I at least allowed to know that?”
“Maybe forty minutes or so,” Jay said. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
Aaron believed him. He had no reason not to.
He stretched out and yawned, the last remnants of grogginess still clinging to him.
“You can take a little nap if you want,” Jay offered.
“No, I’d rather talk,” Aaron said, waving away the suggestion. “If I go back to sleep, I’ll be tired all day.” He didn’t want to waste a single moment with Jay, and it didn’t matter if they spent that time talking or if Aaron just stared at his boyfriend’s gorgeous profile as he drove. He couldn’t get enough.
Jay darted a quick glance at him and chuckled. “Okay. Tell me something. What about your parents? You haven’t mentioned them much, and now that you’ve met mine, I feel like we need to balance the scales.”
“For the record, I loved your parents. Your mom is such a sweetheart. Really, your whole family’s nice.”
“It’s a Persian thing. We’re very polite.”
“That doesn’t explain Paul.” Aaron snorted in amusement. Layla’s husband looked and talked like a frat guy, but he’d turned out to be deceptively attentive. “He spent five minutes listing every single beverage choice in their house when I told him I wasn’t thirsty and then insisted I accept an apple juice box.”
Jay let out a hearty laugh and shook his head. “Paul’s a special case. He’s been married to Layla for so long, he’s basically Persian at this point. You will—” He snapped his mouth shut, and a hint of color touched his cheeks. “You’ll see for yourself.”
Aaron hummed in agreement and looked away, pretending to focus on the water tower in the distance. Was Jay about to say something about Aaron becoming more Persian once they got married? Was he already thinking that far ahead? The thought warmed him, making butterflies flutter around his stomach and into his chest.
Maybe it was too soon to consider marriage—too soon into their relationship, too soon after his divorce—but he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more than to come home to Jay every day.
Jay cleared his throat. “So, your parents?”
“I don’t see them as often as I should. They moved to Washington after my dad retired. They spent their entire lives in the tristate area and started to romanticize the whole idea of living on the West Coast.” Aaron chuckled, remembering how worried he’d been when his mom announced their sudden move. “Thankfully, they love it there. They have a cute little house with a garden, two dogs, and some new friends.”
“Do you ever visit?”
Guilt crept in, as it did every time Aaron thought about how rarely he made the time to go. “Not as often as I should. Maybe you’ll come with me next time I go?”
He wasn’t sure what possessed him to ask, the words tumbling out on their own, but Jay’s shy smile was proof that he didn’t think it was a stupid question.
“I’d like that,” Jay murmured.
They talked through the rest of the drive, sharing childhood stories and teenage dramas, and Aaron realized he hadn’t paid attention to where they were until Jay parked the car and turned to him with a grin.
“We’re here!”
They were parked on gravel, surrounded by tall trees as far as the eye could see. A few feet away, a wooden arch stood tall next to a small signpost with a washed-out map. Aaron had seen setups like this a hundred times, and excitement vibrated through him. “Are we going on a hike?”
“A hike and a picnic,” Jay said, reaching behind them to grab his backpack. “I have bug spray and sunscreen in the glove box.”
Aaron hopped out of the car, quickly slathering his face and arms with sunscreen and spritzing mosquito repellent on his clothes. It had been months since he’d gone on a proper hike, and he couldn’t wait to get going.
Jay handed him a small knapsack with a few bottles of water, then locked the car and gestured to the trailhead, letting Aaron lead the way.
After examining the map, Aaron ambitiously chose the longest trail. There was no rush—they had the whole day ahead of them.
Blinding sunlight was muted by the towering trees, a refreshing breeze carried the scent of damp earth and pines, and the vibrant green colors soothed Aaron’s soul. As they traversed the trail—climbing uphill, stepping over fallen trees and giant roots, skirting around the marshlands—the initial excitement in Aaron’s stomach slowly morphed into quiet contentment. This truly was the best date he’d ever been on.
Around lunchtime, they came across a small meadow, and Jay declared it the perfect spot for their picnic. After finding a sufficiently flat spot, he wrestled a blanket out of his bag, shaking it out before neatly spreading it on the grass, and told Aaron to sit down while he unpacked their lunch.
“It’s nothing special,” he warned. “Keep your expectations low.”
