Page 33 of Saving Sophia

“It’s a surprise,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s not far.”

A bright yellow, diamond-shaped warning sign on the side of the road broke up the hundreds of shades of green and I squinted to read what it said.

Elk Crossing

“What’s funny?” he asked when I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh.

I glanced at him, admiring the straight slope of his nose and the ridge over his lips in profile, then pointed to the sign as we passed it. “Like elk are going to cross the road right here because the sign says. Don’t they live deep in the woods where there aren’t any roads or people?”

His lips turned up into a lopsided smile. I loved what it did to his face, how it lit his eyes and rounded his cheeks. “Elk are all over the place around here.”

I hesitated. “You’re teasing me.”

“I’m not,” he said solemnly.

“And they can read traffic signs?”

What even was an elk? Some kind of deer, but with antlers that looked like hands instead of like fingers?

“You’d be surprised.” He pulled into a rough graveled lot and shut off the car. He opened the door for me, then reached into the back for a huge picnic basket.

“We’re going on a picnic?” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice.

“I have the perfect spot I want to show you,” he said, leading me straight into the green and mysterious woods.

As we walked along the path, our feet crunching on the scattered leaves and bark and pine needles, I tried not to gape, but it was like nothing I’d ever seen. I stopped at a huge fallen tree, the roots wrenched up, forming a vertical wall, taller than me. They trailed out like a weird forest octopus, with thousands of root-tentacles stretching out, damp and muddy, seeking the connection to the earth they had lost. Some were blackened, while others were covered in a violently bright chartreuse dressing of moss. I touched one cautiously, curious if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Can I take your picture?” he asked, startling me out of my exploration.

I self-consciously pushed back my hair, instantly regretting my outfit choice—a rainbow striped T-shirt, purple skirt, and leggings with my blue sneakers. Not exactly photo worthy. “I’m a mess,” I mumbled.

“You’re beautiful,” he corrected, holding up his phone and clicking. My cheeks warmed at the compliment. A sound like rushing water roared in my ears.

Wait. That wasn’t only in my ears.

“What is that sound?”

“The surprise.” He took my hand and led me a little further around a bend in the path. There, beyond a wide green clearing, a waterfall plunged down a wall of rock and crashed into a deep pool. In one direction the pool spread out into a dark lake. In the other it narrowed to a river that ran further down the mountain. The sun skipped and leaped across the surface, making bright flashes like a million winking camera bulbs.

“Oh, wow.” I stood still, astonished at the sheer natural beauty of it, the endless green forest accented with the deep blue of the lake and the wild white foam of the falls.

His mouth lifted into a beaming smile, pleased with himself for the reveal. “We called it Eagle Falls when we were kids.” He pointed to a hundred trees staring down at us from the top. “They nest up there, and we’d come watch them fly. We used to hike out here from the cabins and spend hours roaming around. Rumor has it the lake is bottomless.” My eyes widened at that. He smiled and unrolled a thick plaid blanket. “I’ll set up the picnic. You go check it out.”

I perched on a large rock near the edge of the water with my feet tucked up and stared across to the rushing falls, wondering what secrets might hide underneath, and if a lake really could be bottomless.

The worry and fear of the past two days eased back to a corner of my mind, and I breathed deep, soaking up the smell of fresh air and sunshine.

My attention drifted back to the gorgeous man who brought me here. He set up the picnic, his shoulders flexing under a black, textured Henley as he smoothed out the blanket on a flat spot nearby. His serious eyes focused as he pulled containers out of the basket. He brought intensity to a simple task, attention to every detail. I loved the way his brow scrunched when he concentrated, and the way his goatee accentuated the angles of his cheeks.

I still couldn’t quite believe I was here, with him, on something that felt distinctly like a date. The mean little voices in my head whispered that he just felt sorry for me, nothing more, but a new voice wanted to argue back.

Maybe it was Amber Jade. I decided to let her help me enjoy this picnic—this date—that might even end in a kiss.

He finished setting up and waved me over. Sandwiches, fat green grapes, slices of cheese and round crackers, a sealed bowl of potato salad, enormous chocolate chip cookies, a huge Thermos, and a bottle of wine covered the blanket.

“This is amazing,” I said, sitting down. A bird cried out from a tree overhead and I craned my neck to find it. “I can see why you love this place.”

“It’s peaceful here.” He handed me a sandwich and sat beside me, so close, looking straight into my eyes. I forced myself not to fidget or squirm. The clean, cedar wood scent of him blended with the crisp forest air, making me hungry for more than food. I stared at his lips, wondering if his goatee would tickle if he leaned in for a kiss.

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