I grin just as something rustles in the woods near us. I instinctively reach out and pull Sophia back against me. Placing my hand over hers, I aim the flashlight at…a raccoon.

“Jesus, trash pandas are stealthy,” she sighs against me as her body relaxes.

“That they are,” I murmur, my hand splaying across her abdomen. I can feel her soft skin under my pinky finger where the hem of her shirt has ridden up and I run my pinky over it. I feel her skin pebble beneath my touch.

She clears her throat. “We should…get back,” she says, her voice breathy.

I slowly let her go and we continue to the tent. When we’re settled back inside our respective sleeping bags, I turn toward her. She does the same and we both stare at each other. Then she rolls over and looks up at the netted part of the tent above us.

“It’s so beautiful up there,” she says quietly, and I roll onto my back next to her. Her hands are folded on her chest and I reach over and take one in mine, entwining our fingers and bringing them down between our bodies.

“It is,” I reply. I turn my face toward hers. “But not as beautiful as what I see down here.”

I can just make out her skin flushing in the dim light, and I smile as I turn back toward the stars.

“Stop being so charming,” she says, and I can hear the teasing tone of her voice. I rub my thumb along hers.

“I can’t help it. You bring out the charming part of me,” I protest. She sighs and I want to know what she’s thinking more than anything but I’m also too chickenshit to ask. I want her so badly it physically hurts. I’ve never felt like this about a woman before…ever. The thought that she’ll turn me down has me feeling like a teenager asking a girl out for the first time, not a grown-ass man who, according to tabloids, could have any woman on the planet.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“You,” I admit.

She turns her head to me. “Seriously, what are you thinking about?”

I lean my head toward hers, our foreheads nearly touching. “Do you really thinkwecould never work?”

Her eyes widen just a little. “I—I don’t know,” she stammers. “It’s just…it seems so complicated and…we just met a few days ago. It feels rushed. I…” She trails off and I wait for her to collect her thoughts. “If I’m going to get into another relationship, then I want to make sure it’s right.” She pauses again and searches my eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispers, and I see tears glisten in her eyes.

“Me too. But I know you feel it. I don’t want to miss what could be the best decision of my life because I’m scared. I want to jump over this cliff with you and hope we land in the water,” I try my best to explain.

“But what if we fall to our deaths,” she replies.

“Then we tried,” I state.

She looks back up at the stars. “Why does it feel like I’ve known you forever?”

I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back. “I don’t know, but I feel the same.”

“That you’ve known yourself forever,” she teases.

I bump her shoulder with mine and she giggles. “You know what I mean, smartass,” I quip.

“I know,” she says, her voice softening. “Tell me something good about your childhood. You’ve only really shared the shitty parts, aside from that goat story.”

I laugh. “I suppose I have.” I think back to that time. Just like anyone’s life, there were good moments interspersed with the bad ones.

“My grandfather loved ice cream. Every Monday afternoon, we’d walk down to this local ice cream stand, well, at least when it was open. And we’d buy triple-scoop cones and sit and eat them. I usually ended up wearing half of mine, but it was our thing, and I will always be happy that I got that time with him. He was a good man,” I say, smiling at the childhood memory as I see it in my mind. I pause.

“Are they…” She trails off.

“He died a few years ago. And my grandmother is in a care home for dementia patients,” I explain.

“I’m sorry,” she says. I squeeze her hand.

“What about you?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Hmmmm. Well, I had a pretty average childhood, I suppose. My family used to go visit my grandparents at their lake house every year. That was fun. And we’d go to the beach and stay with my parents’ friends.” She laughs.