Page 11 of How We Loved

“Yeah …” I drawl out, not sure what he’s thinking, or what he heard from other people about me.

He presses his lips together and nods. “Nice car.”

“Thanks. Nice truck.” I point to the truck behind him.

“It’s my dad’s. I had to borrow it.”

“That’s cool.”

He raises his eyebrows ever so slightly while letting out a sigh, then turns to walk toward the pumpkin patch entrance.

I grab his arm and stop him. “Does it bother you that my dad helped create TimeLand?”

“Our town is nothing like your guys’. When someone told me who you were, I didn’t believe it. Then, when I saw you get out of this”—he points to my car—“I was just shocked, is all.”

“Does that change anything?”

“Nah. It’s all good. I’ve just never known anyone that has your kind of money.”

Right now, in this second, I finally get why Ben, Dalton, Eli, and I are so close. We’re the only ones who get what it’s like to have grown up with our families and how it doesn’t define who we are.

He can tell I’m weirded out about our conversation and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. I never thought a girl like you would go on a date with me.”

He tries to move me forward, but I don’t allow him, feeling unsure if I’ll even stay at the moment. “TimeLand isn’t me. I have nothing to do with it.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I won’t say another word about it. Let’s rewind and act like none of that happened.”

He steps toward the entrance again with his arm still around my shoulders, and this time, I move with him, trying to get back to the excitement I had as I pulled up and forget whatever that was that just happened.

“Come on. Let’s grab some lunch, then do the corn maze. My treat.”

He winks, and just that simple motion brings back the tingles of excitement I felt the first night we met.

Okay, maybe we can get back to a normal first-date vibe.

Our lunch choices aren’t really abundant at this place, but the hot dogs he buys us will do the trick.

He hands me mine, and then we walk to the condiment table, where I lather mine in ketchup and he loads mustard on his.

When he sees what I’m doing, he teases me, “Oh man. You see, I thought this was really going to work, but I’m not sure I can date a girl who doesn’t like mustard.” His wink and the way his lips curl up in a smirk make me laugh.

I shake my head and take a step away from him. “It’s too bad. Here I thought, we were on to something, but at least we figured this out early,” I tease back. I feel brave, so I add, “There’s no way I’d ever kiss anyone who tastes like mustard.”

Quickly, he grabs a napkin and starts to remove the mustard from his hot dog, causing me to laugh out loud.

I reach out to stop him. “No, I’m kidding.”

He gives me a wicked grin. “I was hoping, but I wasn’t going to risk it if it meant I got a kiss at the end of our date.”

I can’t hide the blush covering my face, so I turn and head toward the picnic tables they have set up. He grabs the two waters he bought and follows me, setting one down in front of me before he takes his own seat across from me.

“So, besides being a cheerleader, what do you do when you’re not in school?” he asks.

I shrug. “Hang out with friends, I guess. What about you?”

“I work at the pet supply store part-time.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you like it?”

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