Far From Perfect

Chapter 15

Nate hangs the camera strap around his neck and releases my hand for a moment to open the trunk of his car. I just watch him in awe as the ocean breeze slightly messes up his slicked-back hair but rather than look like a bird's nest like mine does when mother nature likes to be evil, his hair looks good. Tousled. It makes me want to run my fingers through it. I somehow manage to resist the urge and just bite my lip as I stare at him in awe. He's absolutely perfect in every way and best of all, he's mine. Mine and only mine. How did I get so lucky?

I see him pull out a large picnic basket and a blanket from the trunk of his car and can't help but smile. He literally planned out every detail of this date. He slides the blanket through the handle of the basket, shuts the trunk, making sure to lock his car before taking my hand in his again.

"What about my clothes?" I ask him.

"I can get it later. We won't need it right now."

"Okay." I'm not sure what all the outfits are for but I'm genuinely curious what he has planned for our first date.

We walk out onto the sand and make our way towards a more secluded area of the beach that is practically empty with the exception of a few seagulls that are wandering around in the sand, but other than that it's just the two of us. "What do you think about this spot?"

"It's perfect."

"I couldn't agree more." He puts the basket down on the ground and starts unfolding the blanket. 

"Let me help you." I grab one end of the blanket while he grabs the other end and together we lay it out perfectly on the sand. He starts pulling things out from the basket, including a bottle of sparkling apple cider and lots of Tupperware full of food. He really put thought into every detail. "Did you make this all yourself?"

"Yes. Surprised?"

"Honestly...yes," I respond with a smile. "Not many guys can cook, so when they can, it's a big surprise."

"Well, surprise," he tells me with a chuckle.

"How'd you learn to cook?" I ask him curiously.

"I learned in college. I had to make myself food to survive because the food there wasn't the best and it was honestly cheaper for me to make my own food, so that's basically how it all started. Eventually, I realized my cooking wasn't all that great, so I took some cooking classes and months later came out a new man with some good cooking skills."

"I'll be the judge of that," I say with a grin, making him chuckle.

"Be my guest. Either way, you're stuck with my cooking."

"I'm sure it will at least taste good."

"At least?" he responds almost offended but I know he's just messing around.

"Did I hesitate?" I respond and he lifts his brow. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I'm sure your food is great," I reassure him.

"I know it is," he says with a cocky smirk. "Now ladies first." He offers me his hand to help me sit down but I refuse and he gives me a confused look.

"I need to do something really quick," I tell him and take off my shoes and socks and toss them to the side. The moment my bare feet touch the sand, I sigh. "Sorry, I had to do it," I say embarrassed. "I can't come to the beach and not feel the sand under my toes."

"I get it," he says with a smile and takes off his own shoes and socks and comes to stand beside me. "This is always one of the best parts about coming to the beach."

"Exactly." I'm so glad he gets it.

He offers me his hand again and this time I gladly take it and sit down on the blanket, leaving my legs to the side so I don't accidentally flash him with my Spanx. He sits down beside me and puts his camera on the other side of him before handing me a fancy looking disposable plate along with a plastic fork and spoon. "Sorry for all the disposable stuff. I just figured it would be best for a trip to the beach."