Page 127 of On the Breakaway

“And apparently, you can talk to anyone. Quite the gift.”

“You’ll like my gift.” She bumps her shoulder into mine. “You’ll see.”

I want to tell her that I don’t need to wait to see, that I already see it. Her.

Because somewhere along the last few months, I stopped noticing how much space Avery takes up in a room and started noticing how empty places feel when she isn’t there.

Considering I’ve been trying to avoid jumping back into a relationship, I’d have been better off not noticing anything at all.

Before I realize it, we’ve circled nearly half the park, and the lake comes into view through the trees.

Avery notices it at the exact moment I do.

“No. Absolutely not.”

My mouth falls open as I feign ignorance. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.” She pulls away from me and stops in her tracks.

“So, what if I was?” I shrug, grin widening at the look of horror on her face.

She shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s a rite of passage.”

Ahead of us, the famous swan boats drift across the water, a line of tourists waiting for their turn. They’re objectively corny and ridiculous, which is exactly why we’re here.

Avery folds her arms. “I’m not riding a swan boat.”

“Why not?”

“Look at them.” She spins and points to the lake as if that answers the question.

I watch as someone waves to the ducks in the pond so hard that the whole boat starts rocking.

“Chaos. It’s a date. What’s more romantic than riding on a swan boat around a small pond while sitting shoulder to shoulder with strangers who stare at you?”

Her lips twitch, and I hold out my hand.

She stares at it, then up at me. For a moment, I think she might say no just because she enjoys being difficult. Instead, she rolls her eyes and grabs my hand.

“This is so stupid.”

The contact of her hand in mine sends a spark up my arm. I don’t think she’ll ever fully understand the effect she has on me. Hell, I don’t know that I’ll ever understand it either.

While we’re waiting in line, she’s still teasing me about it. “I can’t believe you planned this. You’re an itinerary person, aren’t you?”

“An itinerary person?”

“Yeah, you know a person with an itinerary.”

I look offended. “The horror.”

“I saw the picnic basket in the backseat, Grayson.”

“I checked the forecast and packed some dinner. That’s hardly an itinerary.”

Her eyes widen with delight. “I bet you even had a backup plan.”