One Night Only (Season 1: Deni's Story)

Chapter Forty-One

I sneak a glance at Hunter to catch his reaction, but he shifts his gaze to look at me at the same time and we both burst into laughter.

"If they're going to talk about us, then we could probably have fun with this," he muses.

"Oh yeah? What are you thinking?"

"Nothing specific yet, but we could figure out how to plant some seeds and pull a few social media pranks to see what the media makes of it and reports." Dirt crunches under the car tires as he steers us onto Bass Lake Road. "My sense of humor is taking over now that I'm more used to hearing my name and seeing it mentioned, but I also don't live in paparazzi central. It must be freaky to have people right there hounding you."

"Sometimes it is," I admit. "This summer was the worst things have been with the paps for a while. They don't always follow me around, but they probably will the first time you visit me in L.A. if they figure out you're there." I don't want to scare him or give him any reason to second-guess being in a relationship with me, but I also need to be honest with him and let him know what to expect.

"I figured as much," he replies. "That won't stop me from coming to visit you or make me want to hide out. There's nothing that could keep me away."

I want to lean across the console and kiss him when he says this, but he's still driving. I settle for daydreaming about it instead. Once we're parked in the driveway in front of his cottage, Hunter reaches for my hand and leans over to kiss me.

"Ready for a beach picnic?" he asks.

We both exit the car, and Hunter opens the trunk to reveal a cooler, a couple of grocery bags, and a folded-up blanket inside. A bag of marshmallows has escaped one of the grocery bags and I reach inside the trunk to grab it.

"Marshmallows, hmmm?" I dangle the bag in front of him. "You aren't thinking about eating these raw, are you?"

"There may be a few people joining us later tonight for a bonfire," he confesses. "But for the record, they taste better uncooked than burned to a crisp."

"Flambé is gourmet. Expand your horizons a little bit."

"There's no alcohol involved, so it isn't really flambé," he informs me, reaching for the cooler. "It's more like a massacre."

"It's flambé that's suitable for everyone, including people who don't want to consume alcohol. What's not to like?"

He shakes his head in wonder. "I'm going to miss you when you're gone, even if I'm concerned that the marshmallow thing might be a character flaw."

I don't comment on this right away, but the words "when you're gone" stay with me while we transport everything from the trunk down to the lake shore and spread the blanket out on the beach. I've been basking in the glow of a romance-induced high since last night, but the long-distance part of our relationship is something we should discuss.

I wait until we're settled on the blanket and Hunter has poured sparkling grape juice into glasses for us before voicing what's on my mind.

"It might be the wrong time to bring this up, but what happens after this week?"

My question elicits an alarmed look from him. "What do you mean? Please don't tell me my marshmallow massacre comment or character flaw joke changed your mind about us? I was only kidding."

"I know you were, and those wouldn't change my mind in a million years. I'm just realizing we'll be thousands of miles apart again soon. We should talk about how we want to handle it."

"We'll make it work." There isn't a hint of doubt in his words. "Even if we lived in the same city, there would still be long distance when you're off all over the world touring, right?"