Bring Me Back

As I slide into the car, he says, “A gentleman should hold every door open on a date,” and winks before the door closes.

“Where are we headed?” I ask as he backs out of the driveway.

His lips quirk into a smile. “A park.”

“Is that all I get?” I ask. I can’t really base his agenda off of an answer as ambiguous as a park.

“Yep.” He nods. “I have a few quick stops to make first,” he tells me. “So sit back and enjoy the ride.”

I laugh and look out the window at the passing scenery. I’ve always found my hometown to be quite pretty with the many green trees and blue shadow of the mountains in the distance. Ben and I talked about moving away once. Maybe to Colorado, but this place will always be home and I’m glad we stayed. Especially now. I can’t imagine losing him and being away from my friends and family. I don’t think I would’ve made it.

After about twenty minutes, Ryder pulls into a convenience store lot. “I’ll be right back,” he says, undoing his seatbelt.

“You mean I can’t come in?” I joke.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Super-secret plans are about to go down, and I can’t have you witnessing anything.”

I watch curiously as he leaves and goes inside the building. Shelves block me from seeing anything so I end up watching people in the parking lot. It’s far more entertaining.

Ryder comes back a few minutes later and puts the bag in the trunk.

“Why do I have a feeling there aren’t any gummy worms in there?” I laugh as he gets in the car.

He taps his finger against the steering wheel. “There might be something kinda like that in there.”

He pulls out of the lot and drives out of town.

There’s a park close to us but he’s clearly not going to that one, which only adds to my bafflement.

“So,” Ryder says as he drives, “tell me something about you I don’t know.”

“Um …” My lips twist in thought. “I was a bit of a nerd in high school.”

He glances at me. “I figured you were a cheerleader or something.”

I laugh. “Yeah, that’d be a definite no. I was a major dork and super clumsy. What about you? What were you like in high school?”

“Band geek.” He chuckles.

I smile at this bit of information. “What did you play?”

“Saxophone.”

“What’s your favorite food?” I ask, loosening up. I’ve gotten to know Ryder pretty well over the last few months but not specific details like this.

“Hmm,” he thinks. “Probably these chicken dumpling things my mom makes. What about you?”

“Pasta, and now I’m hungry.” I laugh.

He smiles over at me and his brown eyes are light with happiness. “It’s a good thing I plan to feed you then.” He adjusts the volume on the radio and it prompts him to ask the question, “What kind of music do you like?”

I cringe. “I’m a pop music kind of girl,” I admit.

He pretends to wince and presses a hand to his heart. “You wound my poor rock ‘n roll heart.”

I laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for your horrendous taste in music.” Before I can ask him another question, he says, “We’re here.”