When a Heart Trips Page 10

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it, but it sounds like fun,” I tell him, excitement lacing my words. “I’ve never been apple picking, so you’ll have to teach me all the tricks.”

  “Yeah? I’d like that,” he says softly. “It’s a bit of a drive, maybe an hour or so up in the mountains, so I created a playlist for us to listen to on the way there.”

  “A playlist? Really?” I practically squeal, shaking my head at his thoughtfulness.

  “Yeah, I’ve already connected my phone and set everything up, so all you have to do is hit play.” A mixture of giddy excitement and nervousness enters his voice, and it makes me curious about this playlist.

  Without saying anything, I hit play to start the music, and when the opening chords to “What Makes You Beautiful” by One Direction start to float throughout the space of the car, I nearly freak out. My hands clap together, and my body is moving in my seat as the first verse starts.

  “Oh my gosh, you seriously did not. How did you know?!” I yell in shock, body still swaying to the words I’ve known by heart since elementary school.

  “Your best friend really is the best when it comes to needing information about you,” he answers, chuckling. “I could have easily asked, but I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, you definitely did.” I sigh, heart filling again at his kindness toward me.

  “Good because our road trip playlist consists of One Direction’s greatest hits.”

  “Their greatest hits? So you mean every song then?” I question, smirking at the eye roll he sends my way.

  “Whatever you say, Dev, whatever you say,” he says, still laughing. “Your obsession with One Direction is adorable. I’m sure you were devastated when they broke up.”

  “No, no, no, no sad thoughts or negative energy today.” I tsk. “They’ll have a reunion someday, and I’ll be front and center singing my lungs out to every song.”

  He just shakes his head, eyes rolling at my words.

  And that’s how we spend the rest of the drive. Me belting out One Direction lyrics, him trying to join in but failing miserably, all while his hand rests on my lower thigh, squeezing casually and gently throughout our journey.

  It heats my skin and warms my heart, and I vow to initiate our second kiss today, even if it’s the last thing I do.

  I never want the mini road trip to end. I could drive with him forever and never get bored.

  Well, yeah, because you also have One Direction keeping you company, inner me comments.

  And even though she isn’t wrong, I swat her away anyway, wanting to stay present and not all in my head while with Jules. This day date has only just begun, and I already know it’ll make its mark in my memory book. He’s too close to perfect for anything we do together to not go down in history. It makes me wonder what I’ve been missing out on this entire time, but I know that people enter your lives when they’re supposed to, and the truth can be said for him entering mine. It was unexpected, and while I was open to finding someone, I never in a million years thought I’d luck out with someone like him. Because that’s what I am—lucky.

  So, I place my hand over his on my thigh and lace my fingers through his, braving a look at his features. He graces me with a full-blown smile, and I nearly melt into a puddle in my seat.

  I never thought I’d be so excited about apples.

  I smile, breathing in the fresh mountain air that completely envelopes me as we stand at the edge of the orchard where lines and lines of trees filled with blooming apples sit. It’s breathtaking. I’m almost disappointed that I haven’t experienced something like this yet, but then again, not completely because I like having another first with him.

  “Okay, I’ve got our essentials,” Jules announces as he rejoins me, a metal woven basket and plastic bag in his hands. “The apples we cook with are up front, and if we want the juicy, sweet-tasting red ones, then those are going to be farther up the orchard a bit. Which do you want to tackle first?”

  “The sweet-tasting ones, definitely,” I tell him, bouncing on my toes with barely contained excitement. “I don’t know much about baking or cooking, but eating is something I’m really good at.”

  Which reminds me of the bomb apple turnovers we had for breakfast when we arrived. The restaurant ended up having the longest wait ever, so we decided on a quick trip to the bakery before making our way to one of the many apple farms in the vicinity.

  “Ha ha, you got it, let’s head up there,” he says with a smile, eyes locking with mine every couple of minutes like he can’t help it, and since I’m also locking eyes with his, I clearly can’t help it either.

  I clear my throat, forcing the need to touch and connect with him in some way aside. It’s apple picking time. There’s no need for my teenage hormones or whatever this is to interfere. There will be plenty of time for that later, I’m sure. Though now is arguably the perfect time because we are on a date.

  Well, if my plans to initiate this kiss are going to happen, then time will have to be made for it.

  I clear my throat again, shaking my head at myself.

  He raises his brows in question. “Are you good?”

  “Mmhmm,” I hum out. “More than good, just caught a frog in my throat or something.”

  He nods, seeming to accept my answer, and then his hand reaches out and grips my shoulder as we’re walking. He gives it a soft squeeze, and my heart nearly loses it, tripping over itself numerous times in this small moment.

  Apple picking ends up being a lot harder than it looks. You can’t just pull it from where it hangs; you have to reach out, hold the apple, twist it, and then pull it so that the branch isn’t damaged. That’s something I probably would have gone my whole life without learning, but like with a lot of things since I’ve met Jules, I continue to learn something new.

  “You two are such a good-looking couple,” a lady muses as she stops beside us, picking her own apples.

  Jules has entrusted me to do the picking while he carries our overfilling basket, insisting that he’s done all the apple picking he can this season. I think he’s just trying to be gentlemanly and let me fully experience this first-time thing on my own, which is ridiculous and too sweet all at once.

  I feel my cheeks heat, no doubt turning red at her open observation. Words escape me, and I just stand here, smiling between her and Jules, unsure of what to say.

  He, being the charmer he is, has no problem voicing a response. “Thank you, miss. She carries the looks in this relationship, that’s for sure.”

  I playfully smack his arm, laughing at his modesty. He knows dang well how attractive he is, and his looks are made even more handsome by the fact that he’s really sweet and kind and funny and everything that makes me like him even more.

  “Do you want me to take a picture of you two?” she asks with a laugh, already extending her free hand out as if reaching for one of our phones.

  “That would be great, thank you,” Jules agrees, reaching into his back pocket and handing his phone to her, the camera already open and ready on the screen.

  He gives me a gentle smile as he moves closer beside me, his own free hand going around my waist and pulling me against his side. I flush, heart racing at our closeness.

  I smile, and I’m sure he does too, when she says cheese and snaps a photo of us. But just as she’s about to hand him his phone back and he starts to pull away, I stop her.

  “Would you mind taking another one? I have another pose I’d like to try,” I ask her gently, voice shaking slightly at the level of nerves currently coursing through my body.

  “Of course,” she tells me with a smile.

  I turn to a confused Jules, our side profiles facing the direction of the poised phone as she waits to take another photo.

  “I really hope this turns out right,” I whisper, looking up at him.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, hands locking together as I push myself softly against him. I feel a groan in his chest, and I’m about to p
ull away when his hands go to my waist, holding my body to his. I lean up on my tiptoes as he leans down, and when our lips touch, the lady thankfully takes that as her cue to snap the photo.

  His lips are just as soft and firm as they were the first time we did this, and my heartbeat is just as erratic, but it feels natural and comfortable.

  It’s short, too short, and as we pull away so he can take his phone and thank her, I want to do it again.

  And by the way he looks back at me, I know he feels the same.

  Seventeen

  “Thank you for today,” I tell Jules, looking over at him with a smile on my face. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  We’re on our way home now after spending nearly the entire day at Oak Glen. Music plays on low as we sit comfortably beside one another, day turning to night the closer we get to home.

  “I could say the same about you, Dev,” he says softly, glancing over at me before focusing his eyes on the road. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah, of course you can,” I answer, chest tightening with nerves at his unasked question.

  “How would you feel if I said I wanted to make things exclusive between us?” he asks slowly, and as he waits for my answer, he breathes in deeply.

  “Are we not exclusive already?” I ask, eyes pulling together in confusion.

  “No, we are, trust me, there’s been no one else since I’ve met you,” he reassures, shooting a half-smile my way. “I just mean—shoot, this is probably the worst time to do this actually. So, let’s hold that thought for a sec.”

  Before I can question what he means, he’s pulling off to the side of the empty road, hazard lights switching on as he unbuckles himself and turns to fully face me. So, I do the same, though my hands are unsteady the entire time I do.

  “Dev,” he starts slowly, hands reaching out to rest on my legs. The heat of his skin makes me shiver in response. “I want to be more than just your crush.”

  “You’ve been more than that for a while now,” I tell him softly.

  “How would you feel about making it official?” he asks as hopefulness settles over his features, which makes me want to kiss him again. “Be my girlfriend.”

  My heart stops. It just ceases beating for a moment before casually starting up again like it never stopped to begin with.

  “You want to be with me be with me?” I say twice for emphasis so he knows how serious this is and how much it means to know that he wants this with me.

  “I do,” he nods, so secure in his response. “I really freaking do.”

  I’m about to respond, about to throw myself around him with brutal force, when I’m stopped by my overthinking mind.

  “Before we do this, before I give you my answer, which I'm hoping you already know at this point, I have to tell you something,” I rush out, hands covering his so that he isn’t tempted to pull away from me when I need him to listen most.

  “Okay,” he says warily. “What is it, Dev?”

  “The night we met at the game, I wasn’t just there for fun. I was there because...” I pause to take a deep, shaky breath. “Because Erin and I were going to track down my number one match, ya know, from the compatibility test we all took. I was ready for a crush, to open myself up to new experiences, and it sounded like a really good idea to start with my number one match.”

  He stares at me thoughtfully, head tilting to the side as he silently encourages me to continue.

  So, I do. I quickly blurt out the rest of my confession, hoping…well, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. “My number one match was Braxton, who I learned later that night, after you and I had gone back and forth a bit, is your best friend.”

  “I mean, that makes sense because you were on his list too,” he shares nonchalantly. He pauses, looking thoughtful about his next choice of words, which are not what I expect to hear him say. “And you were also on mine.”

  “Wait, what?” I ask, eyes widening in shock. “How was I on your list if you weren’t anywhere on mine?”

  “You weren’t just on my list, Dev, you were my number one, and when I learned who you were after running into you after the game, I knew that fate or whatever was intervening,” he confesses, brown eyes soft as they stare into mine.

  His hands turn so that they are now hanging on to mine. “You see, I might not have been on your list, but you were always my number one, especially after that first night.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” I question, head shaking since I’m baffled by all he’s saying.

  “Probably the same reason you waited until now to share that my best friend is supposedly your number one match,” he says with a laugh. “Actually, I’m going to share something with you that isn’t common knowledge, and it has to stay between us.”

  “And Erin,” I chime.

  “What?” He chuckles.

  “It’ll stay between me, you, and Erin because whatever you tell me, I’ll just end up telling her anyway. It’s an unspoken best friend rule.”

  “Alright, if you say so.” He laughs. “A friend of mine who helped get the test together said that the matches were mostly random, that it was their way of mixing different groups because they figured each clique or whatever would have similar answers and likes and be matched together anyway.”

  “So you’re saying that our matches are baseless?” My eyes widen and then narrow, disappointment setting in at the small amount of time wasted where I almost pursued the wrong guy, but then elation sets in because I chose not to and somehow got Jules. “I really thought they were legit.”

  He shakes his head, offering me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I was basically the one to tell you Santa Clause isn’t real.”

  “Santa Clause isn’t real?” I yell, gasping for added effect.

  “You’re a silly girl,” he jokes. “So, my best friend being your top match and the reason you were out that night…I don’t care. I don’t care because you didn’t spend these last couple months getting to know him; you spent them getting to know me.”

  “So, wait, if I was your number one match and you basically said they don’t matter, why did you think the universe was intervening when you put two and two together that I was the girl?”

  “That’s easy because once I met you, test or no test, I knew there was no one else I’d ever been more compatible with,” he remarks with a shrug.

  “Guys like you aren’t supposed to exist,” I claim. “Yet here you are, sitting before me and asking me to be your girlfriend despite my overblown confession. I for sure thought it would turn you away.”

  He chuckles. “It didn’t. It never would have. That would be a silly reason to ignore our chemistry and the time we’ve spent together so far.”

  I sigh in disbelief, tempted to reach out and touch him to see if he’s real, but I know that’s silly. This is just who he is, the type of guy who’s understanding and patient and fun and—

  His lips interrupt my thoughts, lips locking onto mine in a hard, soul-piercing kiss. This one starts off hungrier than the rest, and my body sags against the seat as he leans over the center console, moving against mine roughly.

  His hands stay holding mine as our lips connect, and it’s passionate and insistent, and I answer his unspoken pleas with each stroke of our lips, giving him everything he asks of me. It’s unapologetic and demanding, and it’s cut way too short.

  “Say you’ll be my girlfriend, please,” he mumbles against my lips.

  “Say you’ll be mine too, please,” I whisper back, then laugh, backtracking a bit. “I mean, say you’ll be my boyfriend, please. I don’t need another girlfriend because Erin is more than enough.”

  “Damn, that’s too bad about the Erin thing.” He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. “I would have made an amazing girlfriend, but I’ll do what I can to be an even better boyfriend, girlfriend.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt you’ll master the whole boyfriend thing,” I tell him. “And I’ll do what I can to maste
r the girlfriend thing.”

  “It’s a deal then.” He smiles. “We’ll be pros in no time.”

  Eighteen

  When Jules sent the picture from the apple orchard to me, I immediately made it my phone’s background, printed it, and replaced the paper with the list of matches on my bulletin board with it. So now one of the first things I see when I wake up every morning is that photo, and it’s a really great start to my day.

  It’s been a couple of weeks since that date, and we’re off school for a week for Thanksgiving, so I haven’t seen him in nearly a week because we’ve both been busy with family.

  I miss him. A lot. More than I probably should. A pathetic amount really, considering we’ve FaceTimed and texted back and forth a decent amount. But I haven’t seen him face-to-face in the flesh, and it’s doing anything but making my heart grow fonder.

  “Devon, if you mix the whip any more, you’re going to turn it into a lumpy mess,” my mother chastises from the other side of the kitchen, eyeing me warily. “You looked deep in thought, is everything okay?”

  I mull it over in my head, trying to decide if I should give her a one-off response or the truth. I don’t want her to think I’m some lovesick teenager, even though I totally am, but that’s beside the point.

  I internally shake myself to get it together. I never thought I’d be this girl, the one in a relationship with someone as amazing as Jules. I mean, sure, it’s something I’ve always dreamt of, especially when reading about it, but dreaming about it and actually living it are totally different. I’m just overwhelmed with everything going on that it’s insane.

  My mother clears her throat, impatiently waiting for me to respond. So, because she’s well aware of Julian and our growing relationship, I decide to go with honesty.

  “I miss Julian,” I voice softly, keeping my attention on the task in front of me, which includes pouring the whipped icing in a glass bowl. “Which I know sounds silly, but I don’t even care because I miss him so much.”