Pink
Whoever had come up with idea of grown adults paddling oversized pumpkins across a river deserved a fucking Nobel Prize.
It was the day of the Giant Pumpkin Regatta, and I, for one, was thoroughly enjoying myself. Delicious drinks, fall festivities, and a beautiful woman by my side—it didn’t get much better than that.
“Go, June, go,” Nessa screamed. I leaned away when she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Move your ass!”
I had never seen this competitive, fangirl side of her before, not even at my games. Then again, even I could admit that pumpkin racing was more entertaining than most baseball games.
“She gets like this with board games, too,” Clarke whispered.
“Oh, really?”
She nodded. “She’s a menace when it comes to Hedbanz.”
“Are you talking about me?” Nessa snapped at us.
“No,” we answered in tandem.
The withering look she shot my way should have made me quiver in my khakis. Instead, it turned me on. If Nessa wanted to punish me, you wouldn’t hear me complaining. She could spank me any day of the week that ended in “y.”
For the next few minutes, we watched as June paddled herself to victory, ruthlessly taking down a twelve-year-old in the process. She rushed over to us after the race, waving her plastic trophy over her head like Rocky Balboa.
From what Nessa had told me, June had been one hell of an athlete in high school and college. Judging by that performance, she still was. She had even extended an invite to join her CrossFit class after the season ended.
“Are you proud of yourself?” Nessa asked her. “You made Miles and Myron’s granddaughter cry.”
“Well, she should have known better than to mess with the reigning champ.”
“Brutal, dude.” She enthusiastically returned my high five.
Nessa bounded over to me and threaded her arms around my back. She shivered when I brushed the loose curls away from her neck and nuzzled the spot with a featherlight touch.
The last few days with Nessa had been a welcome distraction from the week ahead, not to mention the dreams that had kept me up late. I hadn’t dreamt of my father in years—talk about shitty timing—and yet for three nights now, I had woken up in a cold sweat before five a.m.
The only thing that seemed to help was Nessa—nobody else would do. When I was with her, I craved her touch. When we were apart, all I could think about was the next time we would be together.
I fell asleep thinking about her hands in my hair, her peachy lips tracing my tattoos. Hell, her presence alone was enough to ground me.
She traced my lips with her fingers after June and Clarke excused themselves for some celebratory bao buns.
“Want to make out in the corn maze?”
Laughter shook my entire body. “You know me so well, angel.”
We walked hand in hand toward the corn maze. Today’s Buns and Roses festivities took place on the outskirts of Rose City, on one of the farm properties we had toured during our triple date with Soren, Clarke, Kaylani, and Ryan. Only this time, Nessa was myrealgirlfriend.
“Alright, baseball boy,” she teased when we reached the entrance to the maze. “Right or left?”
“You designed this.”
She had shown me the aerial view of the maze just the other night. The field of corn had been strategically cut into the shape of a rose, with the words “Rose City” written above it.
“Did you think I was going to give you clues?” She clucked her tongue. “Besides, I’m kind of hoping you pick the wrong direction. You know, for more privacy.”
I held her chin steady with two fingers. “You want to ravish me in the cornfield, angel?”
“Absofuckinglutely.”
