Page 166 of Can't Help Falling

I’m not even pretending to fight it at this point.

I just want to get down to the pond so I can see him already.

I’m wearing jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a thick, oversized sweater, but I also grab my favorite plaid down blanket on my way out, just in case the heat I feel around Owen isn’t enough.

It will probably be enough.

I start the walk down to the pond, telling myself It’s fine, we’re just friends over and over the entire way. Leaves crunch beneath my feet, and I see my breath wisp around my eyes in the cool air. It’s apple pie weather. Pumpkin spice weather.

Cuddling under blankets weather.

As I approach the dock, I see a warm glow surrounding the trees. I stop walking and listen, worried something might be wrong.

Is that. . .music?

The quiet, but undeniable, sound of an instrumental melody echoes through the space above the pond. It’s like the soundtrack from Bridgerton. Slowed down versions of a pop song I vaguely recognize played by an orchestra.

Something strange is happening.

Slowly, I start to walk again, curious about what is happening at my thinking spot, and when I finally get close enough to see, I still can’t make sense of it.

There are white lights strung in the trees behind the dock, and on the dock there’s a picnic basket sitting on top of a blanket, surrounded by candles. The flickering glow from the twinkling lights casts a golden hue across the whole scene. It’s like something out of a movie.

I step out of the trees and into the clearing around the pond. The music—which I now place as the same song we danced to during our photoshoot—Can’t Help Falling in Love—plays quietly in the background.

I take another step toward the pond, and when I glance up, I see Owen step out onto the dock. He’s holding a small book in his hands, and he’s watching me, an expression I can’t read on his face.

And then, he smiles. It’s slight, but I catch it before it skitters away.

“Hey,” he calls out over the water.

“Hey.” I watch him. “What is all this?”

I barely make out a smile on his face, but I can hear it in his voice. “You’ll see.”

I want to freeze and run at the same time. I force myself to play it cool. My heart is racing, and my legs are quaking as I start toward the dock.

Toward him.

He’s standing at the land end of the dock when I get there, and he reaches his hand out to me to help me step up. I take it, and once I’m standing next to him, he faces me and sort of smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I smile. But bigger. “Did you do all this?” I motion to the lights in the trees.

“I had some help,” he says. “Jace and Mack.”

I quirk a brow. Where is this coming from? And, more importantly, what is this?

He holds my gaze for several seconds, then finally says, “Hey,” again.

I laugh. “Hey.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, in an I’m a dork look. “Are you hungry?”

I eye him for a brief moment. “I’m not not hungry.”

He stops.

“That’s a yes, right?”

---