Author's Note: As always, thank you kindly for all the amazing reviews, the favorites, the follows. You guys are amazing, sweet, and encouraging. I love how much you love this story. It truly makes the writer's block, the million re-writes, and second-guessing myself worth it. I wish I could give you updates sooner, but unfortunately my schedule just doesn't allow for much downtime. I hope the length of them makes up for it a little bit? Enjoy this chapter. I believe Katniss and Peeta did! Oh, and we all know Johanna did.

I have to give a major congratulations to Ivory for the achievements in her life lately! I wish you all the very best in the future! There couldn't be a more deserving person! And now I must thank Court over at Court81981 for stepping in to beta this chapter. She did a flawless job with the choppy work she was given. I apologize for the tense, silly grammar, etc. mistakes. You made this chapter rock. She works magic and if you haven't read her stories you are MISSING out. So move your booty over to her profile! Also, she's been helping hone in my ideas of Lock Up. More info. about that story can be found on my profile for those interested.

And without further ado, we have a date to get to.

**Please Note: Chapter Eight wasn't uploading correctly last night, so I took it down & reposted it this morning. I apologize to several of you who re-read chapter seven..I swear it wasn't me! Fanfiction wasn't my friend last night. HOPEFULLY you haven't read this chapter before :)

Summary: There are also three types of people in Dawson, Texas: those who are trying to flee, those who embrace their small town fate, and the Mellarks. Mellark Ranch; largest cattle ranch South of Dallas, employer of ranch hand, Katniss Everdeen, and home of Ohio State Buckeye running back, Peeta Mellark. And Peeta Mellark is coming home today.

Lone Star State of Mine
Chapter Eight: Beat This Summer

"I ain't ever going to beat this summer with you."

Going on a date.

It's what we're all here for, if you think about it. All the way back to Adam and Eve. The selection then wasn't nearly as vast as it is now, but maybe that was easier. They couldn't say no. Well, they could have – but that'd be an awfully short story of mankind. Boy meets girl. Girl says no. End of all possible future dates ever. Good story.

Without that initial date, we're all destined to be alone. And I for one always thought that was an okay option. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I have lifelong dreams to become a spinster or the cat lady who lives outside the city limits —I hate cats. But romance never seemed like something that was going to cross my path. In school I spent most of my time with Gale, and any guy who was possibly interested usually assumed I was with Gale. Not that the line of guys was really that long — or existent at all. Sure, there was that awkward stage in middle school where your hormones take over. You become attracted to anyone who looks at you long enough. It's science, not romance.

I did have a date to a school dance once. His name was Lenny Griggs. It was in eighth grade. I was taller than him. He was practically the size of an old outdoor water spigot, had bright red hair and the freckles to match. He bought me a flower, and my mother took pictures of us outside on our porch. I wore this awful black, glitter-covered dress that my sister picked out at our local shopping mall. At the time I thought I was the belle of the ball. Looking back, I was just a perfect match to the disco ball above our middle school heads.

My father drove us to the dance, which started at six. Lenny spent most of the time with his friends off in the corner. I spent most of my night complaining to Gale about how uncomfortable I was. He had brought Madge — well, actually his mother brought both of them. So whenever she was ready to dance, which was all of the slow songs, I was either left alone at a small table with half empty punch glasses or swaying awkwardly with Lenny. By the end of the night Lenny found a ride home with one of his friends, and my father stopped to buy me ice cream.

After that, dating didn't seem like all that it was cracked up to be.

Of course, I listen to Gale's tales of love — or lust. Gale is good looking and played football. He might as well be a young James Dean in this small town. Unfortunately, most of the girls could only talk about how appealing he was in high school since he spent most of that time joined at the hip with Madge. Well, he spent most of his life that way. But high school was when they really became a couple. For nearly four years it was always them, they became the constant for Dawson High. And everyone expected they'd get married, because what else is there to do in this town after high school?

But then she ended it.

I still remember that day. It was April of our junior year. A Thursday to be exact. I was outside the main barn when Gale's truck tore down the road. When he got out, I could tell he'd had it out with Madge, but that was pretty typical. They might have had their good times, but the two were like oil and water when it came down to the very nature of their relationship. I wasn't ever going to rain on his parade with that information, but everyone knew it. Even Peeta had tried to tell him on several occasions. It usually ended with Gale storming off, mumbling something about Peeta just being jealous.

No one could talk to Gale when he didn't want to hear the truth.

We started to work, and I said nothing. It was usually better to let Gale clean out the wound on his own. It wasn't until we were halfway finished with our chores that he told me what had happened. Madge wanted bigger things. She wanted to enjoy her last year in this small town with her friends. She didn't want to draw out the inevitable by staying with him. She had plans to leave Dawson. He had plans to plant roots here. The two couldn't work together. Just like that, Madge Undersee was done with Gale Hawthorne.

Two weeks later she was dating Darius Parks. And almost four years, later she's still in Dawson.

If only murder was legal.

Gale moved on. He moved on with Lisa Dorris. And then he continued to move in the direction of Aubrey Green. He even had a short travel partner in Rebbecca Clove. That was obviously not his shining moment. Not only had he did he periodically begin to act like the petite sourpuss, but he also solidified the rivalry between Marvel and Cato with himself, Finnick and Peeta.

Sometimes I think some of those MTV shows have nothing on us, but we'll keep that our little secret. The last thing I need in my awkward reality is a camera shoved in my face wanting to dissect every little thing that happens.

Especially with this new upcoming event.

I've analyzed the possibilities on my own already. Where he could possibly be taking me. Are we planning this date together? Is he paying for everything? Am I even going to be okay with that idea? Do I need to go buy something to wear? Well, I know that answer. Unless he's planning on an evening working on the ranch as our date, I have nothing appropriate.

"Catnip? You home?"

He knows that answer. My truck is sitting outside in my driveway. My boots are right next to the outside door. So unless I've decided to become a free spirit out in the fields, I think it's a safe bet to say Gale knows I'm home. But that's his way of not only announcing he's here, but also his mood. He wants to talk. This isn't a casual, impromptu visit. No, this visit has a purpose, and I'm not sure I'm ready to know that purpose.

I slow my mind down enough to finish braiding my hair and leave my bathroom, flipping off the light as I go. When I round into the hallway, I see him standing there like a large statue. His jaw is tight and he's resting his hands on his hips. I know that stance. I instantly feel smaller and wish I had an escape route. Unfortunately, he's blocking the one escape I have and I'm strong, but Gale is stronger.

"A date with Mellark?" he says hesitantly, and I'm surprised.

I expected a stronger reaction to the news. I expected my door to come off its hinges when Gale finally found out. Of course, I also expected the news would have come from me, but apparently my nerves got the best of me and someone else decided to take it into their own hands. But who? Maybe it was Peeta. I haven't seen him since yesterday; maybe he told Gale last night and he's now going to have a black eye for our date.

I sigh, making my way down the rest of my small hallway. When I get closer to Gale, I figure he'll try to block me in until he gets answers, in true big brother fashion, but he doesn't. He moves just as I try to pass and watches me with curiosity. I fall into my tradition of making morning coffee, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

"You could have at least started coffee," I mumble, filling up the pot with water. "Being as you have a tendency to show up unannounced and drink all of it anyway."

"Katniss," Gale demands, but still not in the angry sense that I expected.

I stop, setting the coffee pot down a little too hard on the counter and turn to face him. I brace myself on my hands as I lean against the worn surface. He's waiting for an answer, and for the first time I don't feel like I owe him one. This is something new to me. Something I'm trying to figure out. The last thing I need is someone else wanting me to figure it out for them too.

"What do you want me to say, Gale?" I ask. "Yes, I'm going on a date with Peeta. He asked me the other night after dinner and I said yes."

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. Gale doesn't have a poker face. Everything he wants to say is usually painted across his features. The crease in his forehead tells me he doesn't agree, but the way his lips tighten tells me he doesn't want to argue. He doesn't want to argue? That's rare.

"So when is it?" He moves to sit at my small table as I finish making coffee.

"Tomorrow," I say, not looking at him but at the chipped mugs I've pulled for us.

The silence fills the room and unlike most silences between us this one has a bite to it. He's waiting for me to argue. To confess that I believe he's being to hard on Peeta. To tell him that I'm a grown woman; I can make my own decisions. I'm waiting for him to tell me this is a bad idea. That Peeta isn't who I think he is. But nothing is said. And I like it that way because I didn't wake up in the dirt ready to fight. I woke up on Cloud Nine and I want stay there.

"Are — are you excited?" Gale's voice is forced and I can't help but laugh. He's trying.

"Lets not do this." I say, turning with a mug in each hand. I set his down in front of him and take my own seat.

He looks relieved, and I am too. He might be trying to be supportive, but the best he can do is just stay silent on the subject. I'm barely holding it together on my own; I don't need his help in coming undone. He nods and reaches for the sugar dish. And just like a knife sliding into warm butter, we fall into easy conversation about nothing.

We are just about to finish with our coffee when there's a knock at the door. I glance at Gale, who just shrugs, turning to see the silhouette behind the curtains on my door. I get up and in a few short steps I'm turning the doorknob and facing the newest addition to Mellark Ranch.

"Morning, Cowgirl." Johanna smiles.

"Morning," I say, knowing I don't hide much confusion at Peeta's friend being at my door on a Saturday morning. Without Peeta.

Still I open the door the rest of the way and allow her to come in. She doesn't hesitate and steps right in, looking around the place with mild interest. I see her eyes land on Gale and how her once-hardened smile seems to brighten slightly. Gale stands up like the gentleman he's never been with me and I almost want to laugh. Yep, Gale certainly does not have a poker face.

Johanna notices the coffee pot on my counter and sighs, "Oh thank God. Your coffee doesn't look like tea. Mrs. Mellark sure likes her coffee weak."

"Just like her men," Gale mumbles, and I glare at him.

If Johanna hears, she doesn't show it, but continues to make herself at home as she searches my cabinets for a coffee mug and pours herself a cup. She doesn't add anything to the black liquid but moans like she's just eaten a decadent piece of chocolate when it passes her lips.

"I think I'll be coming to your place from here on out for a decent cup of coffee." Johanna nods, obvious to how her noises have affected my best friend and the way he clears his throat to keep from choking. "Hell, I might come here to stay."

Funny, I don't remember offering.

"Peeta is a saint for staying in the same house with that woman," Johanna laughs dryly. "They all are. I mean, I knew she wasn't a joy — Peeta told me that much — but he described her nicely."

Neither Gale nor I know what to say. We are both still slightly shocked by the tornado that is Johanna Mason. Gale seems to love the new winds, but I'm still unsure. Johanna starts to walk around my open living room and kitchen combination. I'm not sure what she's looking at. I don't decorate. I hardly even have furniture. She holds her cup of coffee in one hand and picks up a nearby frame in the other.

"Sister?" she asks, turning to show the picture to us.

I nod. "Prim."

"Prim. Katniss. Peeta." Johanna smiles, setting the picture down. "I thought California had some eccentric parents. They have nothing on Texas."

Normally I would have thought that to be an insult, but the way she said it was more of a fact instead of a dig. A fact that I couldn't really disagree with.

"Gale, what are you doing the rest of the day?" Johanna turns her attention toward him, and his eyes go wide.

"Um — uh, well I have to help heard some cattle west and then I'll be going to the softball games tonight."

"Softball games? Are those the ones that turn into boxing matches from time to time?" she smirks, obviously having observed the healing cut above Peeta's eye.

"Those are the ones." He laughs.

"Well I hope you have fun today." Johanna looks from him to me. "And that you won't miss Katniss too much, because we're going shopping."

If Gale had still been drinking his coffee, it would have sprayed all over the room. The shock in his expression mirrored mine, but Johanna didn't seem to take notice as she finished her own cup of coffee and placed it in my sink.

"Do you want me to wash these before we go?" she asked. "I don't mind."

And just like that, Johanna Mason wedged her way into our existence like a bull in a china shop.

Dawson doesn't have a mall. Dawson doesn't even have a dollar store. We are home grown to the core. A chain anything would most likely burned down before it had its grand opening. I figured hearing this news would derail Johanna's terrible plan to take me shopping. I even said the news with fake frustration in hopes she wouldn't notice my sheer glee.

I know people that like Johanna Mason. I spend the majority of my time avoiding people them. Not because I have something against them or because I think they're malicious in anyway, but because they're determined, pigheaded, and headstrong. Just like me. Except she has one thing I don't have: the confidence to take on just about anything. There is something about her I respect, but I don't trust her. She's closed off. She's too carefree. It's as if she's hiding everything to keep herself together. She's a better actor than I am. My scars show in the permanent scowl on my face and proverbial chip on my shoulder.

Even through my continual nagging, Johanna doesn't gather her things to leave until she has finished my small pile of dishes. Gale has long since left, wishing us a good time on his way out; his infatuation showing the entire time. I curse under my breath and wave as he heads out the door. Johanna waves too, but she's too busy drying the dishes to pay too much attention to his departing figure.

Not having a mall within ten-mile radius doesn't shake her plan like I had hoped. No, Johanna is too bullheaded for that. She simply stops off at the main house, dragging me inside along with her, to ask Mrs. Mellark where we can find the nearest shopping facility. Fortunately we don't run into Mrs. Mellark, but Jackie will do and Johanna makes quick work of asking her where the nearest shopping center is. She doesn't notice Jackie's confused glance toward me. It's no secret that I don't shop unless it's at the local farm store for new boots or Prim is biting at my ankles.

Johanna thanks Jackie, while I silently plot her demise, and we're back out the door. I don't mention to Johanna that I already knew the way to said shopping center. I was trying to prolong this adventure for as long as possible and when I see Peeta walking back toward the main house, I'm glad I did.

I try to linger, but Johanna is having none of it. She's at the passenger side door before Peeta is within hearing distance. She notices him and then looks back at me with a grin.

"Come on, you can see Lover Boy later. We've got some damage to do," she calls, waving to Peeta.

I hate California.

"Here, lets go in here." Johanna says, pointing toward a store that looks more like a surf shop than a clothing store.

She reaches for my arm; apparently I'm not turning into the place with enough vigor. She pulls me along with her. As we enter, several clerks greet us with overzealous smiles and a rehearsed speech about all the sales they had going on. If I wasn't feeling overwhelmed before, I am by the time the young girl rambles off 'half price on this,' 'buy two of those and get that free,' or 'spin around in circles ten times and receive twenty percent off.'

"Where are your swimsuits?" Johanna asks, popping the gum she's been chewing. "My friend here has absolutely nothing in the way of swimwear."

How does she know that? She doesn't know that. She hasn't been through my drawers. For all she knows, I could have plenty of "swimwear". And wait —

"All swimwear is on the back wall," the sales girl smiles. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Why do I need a swimsuit?" I demand as soon as we walk away from the girl.

Johanna either doesn't hear me or doesn't feel my question is relevant enough to answer, but I'm not giving up that easily.

"Johanna, why do I need a swimsuit? Where is Peeta taking me?" I try not to sound panicked, but it's not easy.

Some girls might live for the summer when they can run around in short shorts, swimsuits, and dresses. But I'm not most girls. I don't own a swimsuit for a reason. I don't swim. It's not that I can't. I just don't. Swimming means swimsuits. Swimsuits mean showing off more skin than I'm comfortable with. My body isn't awful; I suppose I have the hard labor of the ranch to thank for that, but I don't have the beautiful curves of the girls I see hanging above me modeling the swimsuits this store wants me to buy.

"Please, Johanna is the name my mother uses when I'm in trouble. Jo will do," she says, browsing the different styles and colors. "And I don't know. He just told me to make sure you have a swimsuit."

"Look, I am not wearing a swimsuit." I don't hide my panic now. "I just — I can't."

Johanna laughs, like she's suppressing a sarcastic comment until she looks over at me. I know my expression said it all and I hate that. I spend most of my life hiding my emotions, but with everything that's been happening recently, it's becoming harder and harder to do so. Apparently a swimsuit is my breaking point. And Johanna sees it.

She steps closer, watching me for a moment. I think she's afraid I'm going to cry, but this is far from a crying moment. And if she's as much like me as I assume she's probably thankful for that. Tears have never been my specialty and I can guess they aren't hers either.

"Peeta likes you," Johanna says in a low voice, looking around the rest of the store like she's expecting someone to be listening. "I mean really likes you. I've heard about you since our freshman year. And he'd kill me for telling you that so keep it between me and you."

When she looks back at me it's like she's just told me something top secret. Like she's breaking some unspoken law even mentioning such stories. I can't help but smile slightly, but my nerves are still a wreck and her words haven't soothed them yet.

"He wouldn't waste your first date on a plan that didn't mean something." Johanna crosses her arms over her chest, "So when he asks me to make sure you have a swimsuit I'm going to. We can ask them if they have a turtleneck one of you want, but you're leaving here with a swimsuit."

Only Johanna could make a reassuring speech and end it with a minor threat. I haven't known her long, but I respect her for that. And my respect for her only grows when I see just a glimpse of the fierce loyalty she must have for Peeta. We have something in common.

"Fine. But I demand a cover-up." I surrender.

"Deal. I'll ask if they have a parka in the back."

I thought my nerves were a mess in the mall until the day actually comes when I have to put it on. I am standing in my bedroom, staring at the offending objects laid across my bed. I continue to chew on my already ragged nails as I reconsider the entire thing. This is a big mistake. A swimsuit? On my first date with Peeta?

"It's like a Band-Aid." I jump nearly to the ceiling when I hear Johanna's voice in my doorway. She was obviously trying to be quiet or I was that lost in thought. I figure it's the later.

"What?" I ask, frustrated.

"It's like a Band-Aid." Johanna repeats, walking over and picking up the top of the swimsuit. "A gorgeous, overpriced Band-Aid. Just put it on. I guarantee you'll love it. You looked great in the store — and their lighting was terrible."

She's humoring me. She has to be. I know what I looked like in the store. Sure, it wasn't as terrible as I expected. But I'm certainly not 'going on a date with Peeta Mellark' material. I've seen some of the girls he's dated. They were gorgeous and striking. And that was just in high school. Lord knows they've probably gotten better since he's a star football player. I am Plain Jane on my good days.

Before I can argue, Johanna is shoving the newly bought clothes into my hands and heading out my door. She closes it behind her and I know what she's expecting. I glance down at the material and groan.

"Just like a Band-Aid, my ass."

The knock on the door only helps quicken my heartbeat as I pace my kitchen. He's here. This is happening. I have spent the last hour being talked off the ledge by Johanna. She has tried to get me to wear makeup, but I refuse. That is a battle I won't lose. And my hair is in its normal braid, but somehow it looks like it belongs with my summer-like attire. The cover-up Johanna had picked actually turns out to be rather simple. Thank God. The navy blue strapless dress is loose and, although I'll never admit it, rather comfortable.

But I still felt like a fool.

And then I open the door and all my nerves seem to calm. He looks so relaxed and casual. He looks so safe. He gives me that lopsided smile that is somehow connected to my knees and I forget everything I'd once been worried about. His blonde curls and tanned features make him look like one of those models pictured in the store. And the old t-shirt and swimming trunks doesn't hurt matters.

He looks perfect.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi."

Then we stand there — not awkwardly, just in awe of the moment. And I tell myself for the hundredth time that day that this is actually happening. I'm going on a date with Peeta Mellark. And my nervousness turns to excitement. I don't realize how much I want this until it's actually within my grasp.

"Ready?" he asks, turning to walk away from my door.

I follow, closing the door behind me. I almost ask if I'll need anything, but I see the bag he's carrying. He's obviously thought of everything and I'm just along for the ride. I look around for his truck, but it's not in my driveway. In fact, he's walking like he's going to turn behind my house.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to sound more excited than confused.

He looks over at me and laughs. "You'll see."

So instead, I stop questioning and start walking along with him. He asks me how my day has been, and I ask him the same. We both seem to make those answers short and sweet. It gives me a sense of ease knowing he must be as nervous as I am. We fall into casual conversation, mostly about the past or different people who work on the ranch. I realize Peeta notices more than I previously thought. And I also realize I open up much easier with him than I do most others, even Gale. That fact scares and assures me at the same time.

Before I know it we're walking through a wooded part of the Mellark property and I notice how far away from home we really are. I've never really been out here before. I've taken a four-wheeler out here before to double check some fencing, but I hardly paid attention to anything else.

Peeta knows where we're going though, and he takes the opportunity to link my hand with his as we walk on a well-beaten path. Some people have obviously come before us. And my stomach sinks. Has Peeta brought other girls here before? Should that bother me? I mean, if he'd taken me to dinner, he probably been to that restaurant with another girl before. But this is different. This seems somewhat personal.

"How do you know about this place?" I ask.

"How do I know about the property my family owns?" He smirks, making a lighthearted joke, but I blush all the same. "I used to come out here a lot."

"With other girls?" The question escapes before I can stop it, and I instantly regret it.

He looks over at me with a serious expression. "Never with other girls."

The butterflies swarm when I feel his hand tighten around mine and pull me through the last of the trees where the wooded area gives away to a small pond. My eyes search the area; how does no one know this place exists? Well, apparently some do because there is a rope tied to a branch that hangs over the water and several old, beach chairs sitting on the dirt-like bank. They have taken the time to plan out every little corner of this handmade paradise. The small rocks poured to keep the weeds from overtaking the bank. The circular fire pit off to the side to make sure the party can go on around the clock. This was an island in the middle of Texas. It is definitely the closest to an island I've ever been.

"Me, Gale, and Finnick did all this." Peeta looks over at me, like he knows what my next question is going to be. "We spent almost every day of summer out here when we weren't working. Even in the fall we'd come out here from time to time. Finnick always bought us beer."

Of course he did.

"I guess I shouldn't we say I did all of this." Peeta shrugged, walking closer to the water and looking up at the rope hanging from the tree. "Reese and Clement did that. They were the ones to show it to us. Making us swear we'd never bring anyone else out here."

"But you brought me," I say.

"I'm sure Finn has brought Annie out here a couple times too." He smiles.

And the excitement all but boils over on me. He sees me how Finnick sees Annie? I'm not the type of girl to believe in fairytales, but if I've ever seen a good, true fairytale, it's been in Annie and Finnick's relationship.

But I don't have much time to think of the meaning behind his comment because he sets down the bag he brought with us and begins to take off his shirt. I always thought I'd look away out of shyness if this ever happened, but I can't take my eyes off of him. He embodies the part of star football player. Again, I get a glimpse of the black and white tattoo inside his right bicep. It's a college emblem, but it's not for Ohio. His arm goes down too fast for me to notice all the details, but it's piqued interest. And it's all forgotten when my eyes meet his again. He tosses his shirt to the side and just smiles like he has no idea the effect he has.

"Swim?"

I take a couple steps forward and feel slightly empowered. It's just like a Band-Aid, right? Before I lose my courage, I grab the fabric of my dress and start to pull it up, keeping my eyes on his. He looks mesmerized and it urges me on. I pull the piece over my head completely and toss it down to join his shirt. I'm nervous, and my hands come together in front of my exposed stomach. I glance down at the pale orange bikini Johanna somehow convinced me was a good idea. I cringe at the obvious tan lines around my shoulders from my everyday tank tops.

But when I look up I don't think I've ever felt more confident. The look Peeta is giving me is one that shows just how attracted he is to me, and I now understand why girls always insist on wearing so little around boys. Of course, in front of anyone else I wouldn't be wearing this, but the way Peeta stares at me makes it worth it.

"Johanna worked her magic," I supply.

Peeta shakes his head and walks toward me, "You're beautiful."

When he reaches for my hand, I let him take it and we start toward the water. It seems a bit like a dream and I know a month ago if someone had told me that this was their first date, I would have gagged at the cheesiness of it all. And I know if I told others they would feel the same way, but I couldn't imagine a better first date. It's perfect in its cheesiness.

The water is cool and even in the damp, heat of the summer I feel goose bumps rising on my skin. The earth sinks beneath my feet and I almost like the sensation. Peeta drops my hand as we're nearly waist deep. He pushes himself and I watch him sink beneath the surface. My fingertips skim across the top, ripples dancing around me. And soon I'm pushing off the soft bottom of the pond, letting myself dip below the surface. When I reemerge, Peeta is wiping the water from his eyes and then running his fingers through his soaked locks. We're both nearing the middle of the pond.

As we're swimming I notice we seem to be keeping our distance. We're close, but not close enough to touch. We talk about our childhoods. I steer clear of my father's sudden death and Peeta avoids any imaging of his mother. Soon we're asking each other questions. Some are goofy 'what-if' scenarios, but others cut into our being.

"Favorite color?" I ask, treading water easily as Peeta swims calm circles around me.

"The color you're wearing."

"Nice line," I laugh. "Think of that all on your own?"

He laughs, splashing at me lightly. "I'm serious though. It reminds me of sunsets. My dad always used to take Reese, Clement, and me out to the west side of the pastures for the sunsets. He said it reminded him to breathe, to take a moment and just be."

Peeta's love for his dad is touching and saddening. It makes me long for that relationship, but I know Peeta deserves it more. He's had to live with such an awful mother. If he were to lose his father, it'd be more than just a vacancy. It would open the floodgates. No one would be there to play defense between Mrs. Mellark and her sons.

"Your turn." I smile, wiping my face.

"Did you ever date Gale?" He asks, watching my reaction.

I laugh. "Don't you think you'd know if I did?"

He shrugs, smirking with slight relief. "Well, I have been gone at school during the winter."

"Doesn't matter the season, Gale and I wouldn't work." I start to swim closer to him, feeling the need to reach out to him.

"And I'm completely okay with that." He grins.

"Have you dated in college?" I ask.

"That's how I met Jo," Peeta says casually.

But my stomach knots. So Johanna is an ex-girlfriend? This whole time I've been prepped by a girl that once had Peeta's full attention. Does he still have feelings for her now? Is that why she's out here? To try to rekindle something?

"I dated her roommate for about two months," Peeta continued, not noticing my inner turmoil. "Nothing serious. And at least I got Jo's friendship out of it."

I'm relieved and the weight that comes off of me is enough to nearly make me fly.

Soon I feel his arm with my outstretched hand. I grip his bicep and pull myself to him. It still amazes me how brave I am with him and when I feel his hand grasp my bare hip I can't help but gasp. We're both still slightly treading water, but we've neared the bank and I can feel the soft earth below my toes. Soon we're able to stand, both submerged up to our chests, but he doesn't let go of me. He holds me to him.

"Your turn," I say, my eyes more focused on his lips than his beautiful blue eyes.

"You want to kiss me?" He asks.

"No," I smirk, loving the surprise in his eyes. "I want you to kiss me."

And he does. Our lips connect timidly, at first and my arms wrap completely around his neck. When I feel him flush against me, I nearly gasp at the bare contact. It's something I've been craving without even knowing it. His hands grasp my hips possessively, but with a level of caution that I am slightly thankful for. I want Peeta. There is no doubt in it, but this is all so new to me that I couldn't handle going any faster.

Soon this timid kiss isn't enough, and I feel his tongue seeking entrance. I allow it and soon our tongues meet — this alone is enough to make my insides stir with pure heat. My fingers tangle themselves in his wet curls, and I press every available inch of myself against him. His arms are my refuge, and I never want to leave.

But soon he pauses the kiss to lead me up onto the shore where he's brought us a several blankets and towels. I would have been happy to continue where we left off in the water, but he's brought us dinner. We eat and laugh about different things. I get icing from a cookie on my nose that he's more than happy to reach over and kiss off. I return the favor by smearing some on his cheek and licking it off.

It all comes natural and I'm surprised. I never thought any type of intimacy would come natural to me.

Soon we're laying back on the blankets, the sky twilight to night. For a while we're silent as we listen to the nature around us. His hand is laced with mine and the conversation finally comes. It's easy. And it's needed. And it's everything I thought it would be like. And I don't dare believe its love. It's too soon to be love.

But I do know that it feels like no matter the directions our lives could have taken we would have ended up here. To this place. To this feeling.

To each other.