Page 17 of They All Puck Me

"Thanks, Noah. You're the best," she says, smiling. Those dimples of hers could light up a room.

"Don't say that too often, you'll give me a big head. I'm just trying to keep the star journalist happy," I tease as I shut her rear door.

She laughs, the sound light and genuine. "Flattery will get you everywhere Kane."

Not wanting to leave Olivia and go back to my empty ass apartment, I feel compelled to ask her to stick around.

"Hey, you up for a walk?" I ask, nodding toward the path that winds around the lake. "It's a nice night, and the lake is pretty peaceful when you're not running around it out of breath."

Olivia laughs, and glances at her car, then back at me, smiling. "Sure, why not? I've been cooped up all day."

We start down the path, the evening air crisp and invigorating. The lake reflects the fading light, casting a serene glow over the water. I fall into step beside her, our pace easy and unhurried.

"So," I begin, kicking at a pebble on the path, "what kind of music are you into?"

She laughs softly. "You first. I bet it's something rugged and manly."

I raise an eyebrow. "Rugged and manly? You mean like... Taylor Swift?"

She giggles, shaking her head. "A Swiftie? Really?"

"Nah," I say, grinning. "Though I don't mind some of her stuff. I'm more into classic rock. You know, Springsteen, The Rolling Stones."

"Nice," she nods appreciatively. "I'm a bit of a music chameleon. One day it's indie rock, the next it's jazz."

"Jazz?" I look at her with mock surprise. "Didn't peg you for a jazz fan."

"Why not?" she challenges playfully. "It's got soul, depth... like me."

I chuckle at that. "Fair enough. What about movies? Got any favorites?"

She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Depends on my mood. 'Dirty Dancing' if I'm feeling nostalgic, 'Shooter' when I want action."

"Good choices," I say approvingly. "Let me guess, the reason you like Shooter is because of Mark Wahlberg, am I right?"

She snorts, and it's the cutest shit I've ever heard. "Maybe, I won't confirm or deny that," she says with a smile.

"That man has set the bar way too fucking high since his Marky Mark days, and Calvin Klein ads."

She laughs and it's like music to my ears. "I don't know if I should be concerned or impressed that you know so much about Mark Wahlberg."

"I'm fully convinced that if my mom had a free pass with Wahlberg, she would take it. And Dad would probably cheer her on." I say with a laugh. "But i'm more of an 'Indiana Jones' guy myself."

"Oh! Harrison Ford is timeless," she agrees enthusiastically.

We walk in comfortable silence for a bit, our footsteps crunching on the gravel path.

As we round the bend near a small dock, Olivia pauses to look out over the water.

"This place is beautiful," she says softly.

"It is," I agree, though I'm not looking at the lake anymore.

She catches me staring and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, looking away with a sheepish grin.

We fall back into step together as dusk settles around us.

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