I’d lacked the forethought to grab a picnic blanket, which made me sigh in disappointment because I wanted everything to be perfect. But then I told myself Knox probably wouldn’t even notice. There were a lot of details he skipped over, like towels, and combs, and prissy things my mother would insist upon. That was one of the very reasons I was so crazy about him. He didn’t prioritize image before me.

A slight breeze tried to spoil my plans and blow away my plates and napkins, but the apples proved to be the perfect paperweights and kept them in place. I saved the sandwiches in their plastic baggies so no dirt or bugs could blow onto them as I placed them next to the apples. I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait because we couldn’t exactly give each other reliable schedules.

The other day, he’d had to wait three hours on me before I could get away from my mother and one of her lectures. Then Max had cornered me afterward, waylaying me more and trying to console me or something for the way Mother had spoken to me. I was almost in tears by the time I reached the dock, thinking I’d missed him. But there he lay on his back, feet crossed at the ankles and nearly asleep as he dried himself in the sun from taking a dip in the pit.

Relief racing through me, I’d hurried up the ramp to reach the dock, only to slow to a stop and just relish the sight of him in wet swimming trunks and nothing else.

“I never knew Sleeping Beauty was a guy before,” I finally said.

He hadn’t opened his eyes but a smile crept across his face. “Why do I have a feeling I’m about to be kissed to see if that wakes me up?”

“Probably because you are.” Kneeling beside him, I grinned until I leaned down and lightly pressed my mouth to his. He groaned and threaded his fingers through my hair, kissing me back. By the time I pulled away, his eyes were open and gleaming a golden sparkling brown, and his lips were stretched wide with pleasure.

“I guess this is proof,” he’d murmured. “You’re definitely my Princess Charming.”

Sighing over the memory, I sat on the dock next to our waiting picnic and hugged my knees as I stared at the water of the pit. The breeze fluttered tendrils of red hair into my face and the dock swayed lazily under me while the sun soaked lethargic warmth into my bones.


Even just waiting on Knox was more enjoyable than anything else on earth. Setting my chin on my upraised knees, I noticed a rock sitting on the edge of the dock.

With a slight frown, I studied it further. It was a fairly large rock that couldn’t have been carried in by the wind. Something had to have placed it there, and I’m pretty sure it hadn’t been around the day before.

I shied backward, wondering who’d been on my dock. If one of my brothers had been here recently, did that mean they could come back today? Right now? Maybe I should put away one of the plates; if they caught me here, they wouldn’t realize I was expecting company. But as soon as I reached for Knox’s plate, I noticed a small corner of white paper fluttering under the rock’s weight.

A note.

With a gasp, I scrambled forward. After rolling the rock aside, I unfolded the single sheet. When I saw, Hey Princess Charming, as the greeting, a smile lit up my entire face. But then I read the rest of the note.

I’m so sorry I missed you today and couldn’t stick around. Something came up. I doubt I can make it tomorrow and the weekend doesn’t look good either. It’s nothing to worry about though. Just family crap. Hopefully I’ll make it out Monday, and trust me when I say, I’d rather be here with you instead.

Disappointment slumped my shoulders. The rest of my day pretty much felt ruined now. I kind of wanted to just sit here and cry, but at least he’d been sweet enough to leave me a letter. I even understood why he hadn’t signed it.

I ran my fingers over his handwriting, frowning at the printed letters. Maybe it was because he hadn’t used cursive, but there was something about his penmanship that reminded me of a fourth grader’s instead of a senior in high school, even though nothing was misspelled and every letter was written precisely, as if he’d taken hours to plot out each one. There was just something in the spacing that was...off.

I folded it gingerly and tucked the note into my basket. Then I gathered our picnic and packed it away.

When I stood to leave, there was a heaviness inside me. It would be days—days—before I saw him again. My heart ached and my throat kept tightening, which was always what it did right before I cried.

I tried to hum some more “Falling for You” to keep the waterworks at bay, but my spirit had plummeted. Entering the thickest, darkest part of the forest, I wiped my hand over my cheek to make sure I hadn’t actually dropped any tears. If I cried now, I’d look a mess by the time I made it home, and someone may wonder what was wrong with me. But my cheeks were dry and that was good. Sticking close to a large oak because the path I was taking had a muddy spot, I yelped when a crunching rattled the ground behind me.



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