“Hey,” I whisper again, when we finally come up for air. “I missed you.”
I hear the words leave my mouth and freeze, embarrassed, but Emerson's smile only grows wider.
“You ready?”He puts the truck back in drive, and then slings his right arm around my shoulder. I snuggle closer, reveling in the touch of him.
“Ready for what?” I ask, as he turns out of town.
“This is our first date.” Emerson announces.
“Really?” I laugh. “I thought we were a long way past that.”
Like, three bases past.
I blush at the reminder, and I can tell from his wolfish grin that Emerson's thinking the same thing.
“A girl like you deserves a real date,” Emerson declares. “Not just groping in the dark somewhere.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I kind of liked the whole groping in the dark thing,” I say, amazed at my boldness.
Emerson laughs. “Only kind of? Sweetheart, if that was you kind of liking something, I can’t wait to see what happens when you love it.”
“You'll just have to find out then, won't you?” I tease.
“Oh, I will. Believe me, baby. I've got plans for the two of us.” Emerson gives me that look again, dark and wild. He curves his lips into a teasing grin.
I feel a rush of anticipation, so strong I have to catch my breath and look away.
“So, where are we heading?” I ask in a new voice, fighting to keep my heart from bursting straight out of my chest.
“I know a spot, inland, there's a place to swim, and sunbathe. Private,” he adds.
“Let me guess, it's your regular hookup spot,” I say, feeling a stab of disappointment.
“No.” Emerson's reply is simple and honest. Without looking away from the road, he takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, grazing the skin of my knuckles with a kiss. “You're the only one, Jules.”
I feel warmth blossom in my chest like sunshine. I kick my feet up on the dashboard and sit back, in the thrilling safety of his embrace.
The miles fly by, in a haze of closeness and music and cool summer breeze, until Emerson turns off the highway and down a dusty back road. We drive out into the country, fields and overgrown woodland getting thicker as we head into nature, with not another soul around. About ten miles down the track, Emerson pulls off the road and parks up by the grass. He hops down, and comes around to get my door, lifting me to the ground.
“Wait,” I say, reaching up to loop my finger over the top of his T-shirt. “Got to tip the driver.”
“Yes ma’am.” Emerson grins. He lets me pull him down to meet me, finding my lips with his, cool and soft and sweet. I lean back against the truck and just revel in the kiss, so simple, out here, away from it all. We’re alone with the birdsong, and the wind in the trees, with all the time in the world.
Finally, I let him go. Emerson fetches a blanket and a beach bag from the bed of the truck, and then takes my hand and leads me out through the woods. We follow a dirt track winding through the trees, with wild-flowers growing and leaves shading the path. “You’ll love this place, it’s the best-kept secret in town,” Emerson tells me, pausing to help me over a fallen log. “Locals only, no outsiders allowed.”
“Do I need a special pass then?” I laugh.
“Nope. I’m local enough for the both of us.” Emerson winks at me.
We follow the path another ten minutes or so, until we reach a clearing in the trees. I gasp. The swimming hole is edged with reeds and moss, cool and clear in the sun. A tree juts out over the water, with a tire hanging from a rope. Sunlight dapples through the branches, falling in bright patches on the grassy banks.
“It’s beautiful!” I exclaim.
“You really like it?” Emerson looks bashful. “I know it’s not fancy or anything—“
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect!” I hug him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He kisses my forehead then pulls away. “Last one in the water pays for it!” he calls, stripping off his shirt and kicking his flip-flops aside as he races for the pool.
“No fair!” I protest, hurrying to pull off my dress.
Emerson charges into the water with a whoop and a splash. I follow a moment later, shrieking as the cold water hits my skin. I pause in the shallows. “It’s freezing!” I call.
“Scaredy-cat!” Emerson wades back and scoops me up, spinning me out into the deep side of the pool. I fall in with a splash. My feet find the bottom and I push back up, surfacing with a splutter.
“I’m going to get you for that!” I yell, splashing wildly at him. Emerson dives under and grabs my legs, lifting me up as I struggle, helpless.
“Oh yeah?” he teases, “What are you going to do about it?”
“Hmm,” I pretend to think about it. “Maybe, this!” I grab a handful of floating moss and algae, and shove it down on his hair. Emerson laughs and falls back, arms locked tight around my waist so we both plunge back into the cool, clear water.
We splash around until my fingertips start to pucker, then lay out on the blanket, talking quietly and basking in the midday sun. I curl against Emerson’s chest, lazily tracing the outline of his tattoos.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” I breathe, gazing up at the sun-drenched green canopy overhead. “It’s so peaceful, away from everything.”
And everyone.