Audrey’s bike suddenly swerved. The back tire was deflating.

“I have a flat,” she said, dismayed, and stopped her bike. A flat back tire was about to torpedo this outing that was going so well. So much for her backpack of supplies.

Jake got off his bike to take a look.

She said, “I’m so sorry. I can google bike shops nearby.”

“No need. I have a tire repair kit.”

“Now who’s the scout? Do you think you can fix it? That’s cool.”

“We could also stop here and eat some of your snacks. This looks like a good spot. Why don’t you set up a picnic while I try to fix your tire?” They wheeled the bikes over to a grassy spot in the lawn beside some trees. Salsa music was playing in the distance, punctuated by the happy shouts and cries of kids playing soccer nearby. He turned her bike upside down and pumped up the tube to find the air hole.

“Where’d you learn how to fix a flat tire—Holland?” she asked.

“Boy Scout training,”

“I didn’t know they had Boy Scout troops in NYC.” She spread out the picnic blanket and unpacked the water bottles and the cookies.

“Haven’t you met any other NYC Boy Scouts?”

“Not that I know. But then I’m not an elderly lady trying to cross the street. Although you did save that little boy from scootering into the street. You might have to show me some of your other Boy Scout skills, like building a fire, before I believe you,” she teased.

He paused in his fixing of the tire to meet her gaze. “I’m pretty good at building a fire. And you?”

She felt herself heat up under his gaze.

“I probably need a little practice,” she said, flustered.

He turned the bike right-side up, cleaned the grease off his hands with wipes from his bike repair kit, and lay down on the blanket next to her. He was so close. Her pulse beat faster. The silence between them lengthened. The background salsa music was a drumming beat matching her heartbeat. The salty air from the Hudson mixed with the smell of dirt from the ground. She was afraid to move. If she touched him, she felt like she’d ignite an electric shock. A seagull soared in the sky above them.

He rolled back up to sit on the blanket and made some joke about the best cookies in New York. She laughed, but she was on edge, her pulse hammering, not sure if she should say something to indicate she liked him as more than a friend. When he handed her a cookie on a napkin, his fingers lingered while touching hers.