“Oh, uh, yeah sure.” I peeled myself from the armchair and smoothed out my sweats.

I didn’t bother grabbing a coat off the front hook. The sun was beating pretty heavily down and people weren’t kidding when they said it was stronger in Colorado. I barely even caught a chill in its rays.

Oliver let me go first and then stepped out onto the porch next to me, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up⁠—”

He cut off my words by dipping his head to meet mine and stealing a kiss, catching me completely off guard.

“What was that for?” I breathed when he pulled away.

His eyebrows drew together but his smile remained. “Because I wanted to.”

I brushed my lips with my fingertips. They still tingled.

“Was I not supposed to do that?” he asked, tilting his head. I loved the way his dark eyes almost gleamed when they were focused on me.

“It’s just—” I sucked in a breath, completely flustered. “Aren’t we still in that weird phase were we’re stepping on eggshells around each other? Like all awkward and uncomfortable because we’re unsure of how to act because we don’t know what the other is thinking and we haven’t talked about anything?”

He put his hand to his chin and stroked it. “I don’t feel that way around you,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world.

I feel that way around you, I wanted to yell. But I bit my tongue. Hadn’t I been thinking a fling was exactly what I wanted? Who was I to try and dictate on what terms they happened. Just because every other guy would have been playing games right now, didn’t mean that Oliver had to. He was different in every possible way, so it made sense that he wouldn’t act how I expected.

“Do you feel that way around me?” he asked, his gaze carefully studying my face.

The question caused a slightly chaotic giggle to burst out of me. “What? Me? Uncomfortable? No, not at all.”

He laughed, and I thought for the millionth time how jealous I was of his confidence.

“Well good, because I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?” I asked hesitantly. “You have some new crazy adventure planned for us or something?”

“Kind of.” He stared down at me. “I wanted to see if you were free tomorrow night.”

“For some more fun therapy, or whatever it is you’re calling it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Kind of. I was just going to call it a date this time.”

Heat pricked my skin. “A date,” I repeated, convinced I’d misheard him, even though there was no possible way.

“Yep.” He nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows.

“But, we’re—but you’re leaving soon. And I’m, like—” I was sputtering, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Oliver didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “I like you,” he said, matter-of-factly. “And I want to take you on a real date. Sure, I could invite you on another excursion with the thinly veiled motive of spending more time with you, but I’d rather just ask you out.”