“The only way up is down. Fun, right?” Max tilted my chin toward him. “You afraid?”

“A bit.” I looked over the edge. “I mean, that’s at least a forty-foot jump.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“You’re going to be no help at all during the zombie apocalypse if you cower in the face of danger.”

“Max.” I leaned over and placed my hands on my knees to catch my breath. “Look around you, do you see any zombies chasing us?”

“True.” Max sighed. “Rex is at the bottom of the cliff, otherwise that may actually work.” He tapped his chin.

The camera crew that seriously followed our every move busted up laughing.

“Want me to chase you?” Max offered.

“Please don’t.”

“No, really.” Max moved away from me, then started staggering toward the cliff edge, making groaning noises. “Should I drool? I think zombies drool.”

Laughing, I reached for him, just as he wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “Let’s do it together.”

“We already did that,” I teased.

“That”—his eyes darkened—“we’ll do until I’m so dehydrated Hades has to bring me his milk.”

“Nice visual, what, you gonna suck on his nonexistent nipple, Max?”

“Guys have nipples, Becca. Or didn’t you notice? Aw, poor soul, tell the truth, were you raised Amish?”

“No.”

“Did you have one of those sexy little hats with the strings?”

“Max—”

“Holy shit, tell me you wore braids. I’m such a sucker for braids. I freaking ruined the Heidi VHS my parents had for me when I was little.”

“No words.”

“No, none, just lots of singing. It’s weird, right? At any rate, saddle up, Amish B. We’re going under.”

I didn’t have time to respond.

Because Max grabbed my hand and pulled.

Soon we were free-falling in the air.

And then warm water cascaded all over my body.

When I swam up for air, it was to find Max’s mouth already on mine. Breathing for me.

“So,” he whispered. “How’s the date so far?”

“Goats, orgasms, climbing rocks, stories of zombies, and Heidi? It’s normal . . . for you it’s normal.” I smiled. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Oh, good.” Max’s wide smile made my stomach flip. “Because there’s more where that came from.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Girl, I could talk Heidi all day, try me, just try me.”

I rolled my eyes and swam with him to the edge of the pool and into the ocean.

CHAPTER FIFTY

MAX

By the time we reached the beach, I was famished. And not your normal famished where your stomach politely growls and you smile shyly. No. Hell, no. Since we actually had food in front of us, I can’t be sure I would have gone as far as to eat a bug, but the very fact that the thought appeared in my head . . .

Well, it tells me something, doesn’t it?

I’m no good when I’m hungry.

I’m like those Snickers commercials. Swear I’d be the dude that goes all bat-shit crazy on his friend, turning into a weird celebrity, until he has the chocolate in his mouth.

“This is so pretty.” Becca released my hand and walked over to the table where our first course was already set out. “I’m starving, can we eat now?”

“Thank God.” Have I mentioned how much I love a girl who loves food? There’s a reason Carl’s Jr. makes a killing off those stupid commercials, people. A girl biting into beef? Sauce dripping down her . . . whoa there, boy, whoa. Sorry, I almost blacked out for a minute imagining licking barbeque sauce off Becca’s stomach.

“You okay?” Becca asked from her spot at the table. She’d already sat down and was drinking some wine.

“How do you feel about barbeque sauce?” I sat down next to her and watched as her eyes peered through mine.

“Hmm, considering it’s you asking and not a sane individual, I like to eat it, and I’d say that the world is a better place because of it, and, well, if I had to choose between swimming in a tub of barbeque sauce versus ketchup I’d probably choose barbeque.”

“You”—I nodded and lifted my glass in appreciation—“are a true American. Tell me you own a cowboy hat and I’m proposing at midnight.”

“It’s pink.”

“Good God, you’re perfect.”

“Why midnight?”

“Silly.” I winked. “Midnight’s the only time where you can be both in the past, present, and future.”

Becca leaned forward, her smile growing wider by the second. “How do you figure?”

“The clock strikes twelve. Your cell phone’s always on time, my watch is always late by one minute, the clock in my car is early.” I shrugged. “So I exist in all time, and come on, isn’t it romantic that the proposal would be part of your past, present, and future all at once?”

Becca’s breath hitched before a pretty blush stained her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s, um, actually pretty romantic.”

“And you doubt me.” I scowled.

Becca tilted her head. “You do realize not thirty minutes ago you were pretending to be a zombie and accused me of being Amish.”