“Of course, you can dance,” I tell Rune hotly, poking him in the chest with my finger, “you used to learn music video routines right along with me in the barn all the time. You even got your groove on with a hot pretend Cher for a TV series.”

“That was for a role, Shelby, playing a shy man who drinks so he can muster the courage to dance with his very famous date,” he tells me, grabbing my hand so I won’t poke him again. “I can’t dance with other people watching in a club like you can, or out in a forest, for that matter.”

“But you can audition for dramatic roles and then act and sing and play for the camera?” I say, in a way that makes clear, I’m not buying this.

“It’s weird, I know,” he sighs. “I would have liked absolutely nothing more than to have burned up the dance floor with you at that party ten years ago, but my ineptness at dancing in public compared to you tearing it up would have been humiliating for both of us.”

I have to acknowledge he seems sincere. We stare earnestly at each other for a few moments.

“Okay,” I decide to believe him, letting out a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Thanks for clearing that up. I’m tired of being mad at you about it.”

“Ditto. Can you forgive me for being a coward?” he asks, tilting my chin to face him.

“Yes,” I agree. “Why didn’t you just tell me all this back then?”

“I was going to, but you disappeared,” he says, “and you blocked my number.”

“Yes,” I admit, “but I eventually unblocked it later that night, and by then, you wouldn’t return my calls.”

“I went into hiding,” he says sadly.

“Not because of that, I hope,” I say, mortified.

“Well, yes,” he tells me, “but it was compounded by the fact that we found out the next morning my mom was having her first bout of breast cancer. I left on a standby flight right away.”

“Oh, Rune, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“No one did; she didn’t want anyone but family to know,” he steps away from me to throw another stone, but it only skips once. He drops the remaining ones and brushes off his hands on his jeans.

“She didn’t want support from friends and her community?” I ask, confused.

“It’s not quite the same when you’re a freelance music teacher,” he slips his hands in his pockets, shoulders curling forward a little, “Folks can say they support you but then not hire you. People can get strange about serious illness if they haven’t had to deal with it.

“True,” I agree, “my mom couldn’t deal with Theo being in hospice with congestive heart failure. She didn’t even fly up to say goodbye.”

Rune shakes his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t come to say goodbye to him in person either,” he tells me, “I’ve been too mired in my own grief.”

We stand side by side, staring at the water. There’s sadness in my heart remembering Astrid and Theo, but a lightness, too, because maybe I really do have one of my oldest and best friends back.

“Ready to face for dessert?” Rune asks after a few moments.

When I nod and look up at him standing next to me, he’s doing that thing again; he’s staring at my mouth like he did that day on the trail. My heart starts pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.

Before I realize what’s happening, Rune steps closer and takes my face in his hands. He presses that marvelous mouth against mine gently. When he pulls back a little, his eyes asking silently if it’s okay to kiss me again, I’m the one who leans forward to make it happen.

Oh boy, he can kiss. It’s as easy breathing but so much more exciting. I slip my arms around his slender torso, pressing closer, eager to learn more about the exciting ways he’s making his tongue dance with mine. It’s soft and sweet and so deliciously pleasurable. Was he sent to some kind of Hollywood kissing school? Or are we especially well-matched at this skill?

I’m floating. Nothing else exists except the delight of his mouth against mine, the warm firmness of his body, and the slight scent of tangerines.

Someone wolf whistles from the lawn back behind us. We both start and pull apart sheepishly.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Oh God, I’ve just PDA’d with a celebrity at a fundraiser. My ego’s only saving grace is that he started it. But wow. Just wow. Summer of Love party indeed.

Rune has my hand in his again, gently pulling me back towards the party.

“I’m sorry to give you my hoped-for first kiss twenty-one years late,” he says, using his other hand to comb his hair forward again as we make our way across the lawn.

“Thank you, it would have been my first, too,” I admit back. Surprised, he raises his eyebrows, “I guess now I have to forgive Franklin Haus for ruining my strategically planned mistletoe.”

“No,” Rune squeezes my hand, “don’t ever forgive Franklin Haus for that. I haven’t.”

“Wait, you knew what I was up to at the Christmas party?” I pause, “You saw the mistletoe?”

“It was pretty obvious, Seashell,” he chuckles, “you’d tied it up with a very big red bow.”

“Needs must,” I laugh back.

“Again, you were the brave one,” he says, releasing my hand and putting his arm around my shoulders again, “I’d been trying to work up the nerve to kiss you all summer and couldn’t do it. I was thrilled with your mistletoe scheme.”

This lifts my heart even higher. I beam at him. If only he wasn’t famous and a lothario to boot, maybe we could live happily ever after up here in artsy storytelling bucolic splendor. But that’s not the reality, so I need to just appreciate this moment of reconciliation.

When Rune and I reach our table, only Dan, Pat, and Tom are there, talking together. Rune goes off to find the dessert bar and bring us back treats. He hasn’t been gone for five minutes before Jack slides into the seat on my right.

“Convenient old pal, you’ve got there,” Jack says low, with a not nice but knowing smile, “It’s interesting how you failed to mention you’re personally acquainted with your celebrity crush.”

“You’re the one who came up with that whole weird topic of conversation. And you know Amy, so that’s rich,” I retort, “It was kind Rune agreed to be my last-minute date.”

“I doubt kindness had anything to do with it,” Jack replies, “he’s glued himself to you.”

“Stop,” I say tiredly to Jack, louder than I mean to. Dan, Pat, and Tom look at me, but I keep my eyes on the table.

“As your friend, I’m concerned about you jumping into something you have no experience with,” Jack says quietly so the others can’t overhear, “I mean, Christ Alpine, he’s famous.”

“So’s Amy,” I say equally quietly, “I don’t see that stopping you.”

“She’s not famous like that…” he starts, and I cut him off.

“I’ve known Rune since I was nine, okay? Our families have lived next door to each other for decades. He has no interest in breaking my already broken heart,” Jack actually flinches at this. Good.

“I really didn’t think you were so serious, Alpine,” Jack says intently.

“Yes, so you’ve told me repeatedly,” I sigh, “Certainly, you didn’t if you’re taking Amy on the vacation I planned for us.”

I’m so glad that Jack’s not the last man I kissed. I’m happy I can still feel Rune’s plush lips against mine. I wear the feeling like a magic shield around my bruised heart and tattered ego.

“I didn’t come over here to argue,” Jack says tightly, “I hope you will get to go to Iceland next year,” he says. I roll my eyes at him, “I came to find out about how it went with Trident on the coloring book,” he continues doggedly but more conversationally.

“Just dandy,” I say with fake cheer, “I’m selling them the art. We’ve agreed to an acceptable price, and I’m going to launch another project with my original concept this fall.”

“What?” Jack stares at me, shocked, “Why in the world are you giving up having your name as a co-author on a coloring book with a top publisher? You already made the rounds with the original Horse Girls two years ago. It didn’t go anywhere.”

“Because Mr. Know it All, they decided I wasn’t enough of an influencer on social media to help sell the coloring book all because I don’t own a horse, by which they also mean help them sell their expensive equestrian products brand.”

“That makes no sense,” Jack starts, but I’m not finished.

“And yes, it did go somewhere, just not the way I wanted, so I can pivot and try again a different way,” as I say this, it feels more like a real possibility. I like it. I could completely do my own thing.

Good girl, I hear Theo say very, very faintly in my head.

“Alpine, didn’t you learn anything from my own disaster with crowdsourcing?” Jack asks, his voice taking on a lecturing note I recognize.

“I’m not trying to fund a large, stylish, expensive coffee table book by two photographers,” I tell him, “I’ll do something small and manageable.”

Jack’s about to say more when, thankfully, Rune sits on my other side. He sets down two plates full of cupcakes, one in front of Dan, Pat, and Tom, the other in front of us. They’re topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

“Anyone still hungry?” Rune asks the table and then turns to me, “Want to split one?”

“Yes, please,” I say brightly, not because I’m hungry but because I want to end the conversation with Jack.

“Alpine, if you don’t have enough of a social media following for Trident to keep you as an author of the coloring book, you don’t have enough of one yet to successfully host a crowdsourcing campaign,” Jack continues, eyeing the cupcakes with disdain.

This is an annoying habit of Jack's, how he takes the bit in his teeth when he thinks he’s right and keeps harping. Ironically, when he was running his own campaign, he wouldn’t listen to several of my suggestions, which were all standard best practices.

“Sure, she does,” Rune says conversationally, cutting one of the cupcakes in half and handing me a fork.

“How? Are you going to loan her some of your followers?” Jack says in a nasty tone I can’t believe he’s using. What is this? He can’t be jealous, can he?

“My Asher Dillion account is dormant right now, but there’s no time like the present to reinstate it,” Rune says, smiling. He takes out his phone and begins to scroll, “Anyway, Shells doesn’t need any of my followers to make her crowdsourcing successful. It’s not so much the number of followers that’s important; it’s how actively engaged and supportive they are with what you’re doing.”

“And you know all about running successful crowdsourcing campaigns, do you?” Jack volleys back. I’m tempted to say something, but Rune squeezes my knee under the table.