The word rings louder than the laughter with which she said it, because it’s a stark reminder that whatever this is between us has a muddled expiration date.

Is that why I’m so free to be myself with her? To say the things I mean and want when normally I’d hold back and be more guarded? I live by the motto of live each day like you’re dying and yet, I’ve never been this open or real with the women I’ve dated. I’ve protected myself and held them at arm’s length. With Chase? Christ, with Chase, I invited her to stay at my place while she’s in town. To move in with me temporarily.

The question is why?

I look around the path we’re walking on. At the calm of the lake in front of us with the thunder clouds above us. The ones that litter the sky with spaces in between to showcase the pinks and oranges of the setting sun. To the bar on the opposite side of the lake that has lights strung across its patio. Its music is loud and bluesy and carries across the lake so we can hear it loud and clear.

It’s gorgeous. It’s captivating.

But nothing like the woman before me with a mischievous smile and curious eyes.

I tug on her hand and pull her into me, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“This is a good song,” she says, swaying her hips, and I give in to the moment and put my hand over her head to spin her.

“That’s about as much dancing as this man does,” I tease and pull her back into me.

“I’m beginning to think you take me on dates to get me tipsy and take advantage of me.”

She looks up at me with those big blue eyes, which do funny things to me, before she spins again and laughs.

“Yep. It’s my plan. Get you tipsy so I can watch you wiggle your hips and spin like that in the sunset.”

“Aha,” she says and holds her finger up. “Thanks to our little trivia tonight, I now know that sunset is your favorite time of the day.”

I nod, watching the streaks of sun shining fire through her hair and want her again so bad it hurts. Whether it be her smile, her laugh, her wit, or her body, I can’t seem to fucking get enough of her.

“Tell me about your love life, Gunner.”

“What?” I laugh, as she runs a few feet in front of me and picks up a dandelion in the field of daisies.