Within This Frame by Lindy Zart

was peaceful, lying there, talking with Maggie, nothing directly around them but the ocean and sky.
    “I live off Ramen noodles most days,” he confessed.
    “Gross! That’s so sad. You shouldn’t have to live like that.”
    “I like them.”
    Maggie placed her head on a hand and stared down at him.
    “What?” Uncomfortable with the straightforwardness of her gaze, he averted his eyes.
    “What’s your favorite food, and if you say Ramen noodles, we can no longer be friends.”
    Friends. He tested the word out in his head, and determined whether or not he liked it. For the moment, it would do, but he wasn’t satisfied with that term defining them.
    Lance smiled up at Maggie. “Lasagna. Is that acceptable?”
    She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. This is the plan.” Hopping to her feet, she wiped sand from her body and looked down at him, waiting to speak until he stood before her. “I’ll cook you dinner this Tuesday. Lasagna. Wednesday we work from noon to ten, so we don’t have to get up early. Judith will be gone Tuesday night too, so she won’t be there breathing disapprovingly down your neck.”
    “Caught that, did you?”
    “She doesn’t like you.”
    Lance laughed. “No, but more importantly, she doesn’t like my dad.”
    They began to walk.
    Maggie glanced at him. “Why is that?”
    “She dated my dad before he got involved with my mom, who was one of her friends. It was a big deal back in the day, I guess. Lots of gossip, tabloids, embarrassing incidents. Name-calling, public fights, anything you can think of that would draw negative attention to celebrities, really.” Lance shrugged and faced the apartments as they came into view.
    “That’s not your fault.”
    His cheek lifted with the pull of a half-smile. “Isn’t it? I am my father’s son, after all.”
    “That’s stupid,” she huffed.
    Lance stopped fighting the grin, letting it take over his mouth. “So dinner every Tuesday?”
    Maggie paused. “Every Tuesday? I only committed to one.”
    “What if I cook the next time?”
    “You know how to cook?” The surprise in her voice would have offended him, had anyone else been the one to show it.
    “I do. I make a mean spaghetti,” he said evilly, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.
    Maggie scowled at him, but it quickly faded as she laughed. “Then I pass.”
    “What about chicken with broccoli? Would that be acceptable?”
    “Yes,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “It would.”
    They reached the sidewalk that led to their separate apartments.
    Lance put out a hand, palm up. “Pay up, Maggie.”
    “Who said I find you irresistible?” she teased.
    “The fact that you offered to cook for me.”
    “That could have been pity.”
    “I doubt it,” he derided.
    When she continued to watch him, smirk in place, Lance stepped closer. “I’m willing to make a trade. Five kisses in place of the five dollars—one kiss for each dollar.”
    Her expression said she had reservations about committing to that.
    “What’s the matter?” he taunted. “Afraid you’ll end up falling in love with me? I can’t say there isn’t a good chance of that.”
    Determination sparking to life in her eyes, Maggie grabbed his shoulders, closed her eyes, and tilted her face with pursed lips. Lance moved his head back, waiting for her to open her eyes. The seconds ticked by, spent with her posed for a kiss and Lance studying her pale face.
    With a sigh, she finally looked at him. “What are you waiting for?”
    “I didn’t say when I was going to collect them. I’ll decide when each kiss is to be given. And right now isn’t when.”
    “You’re cocky, you know that?”
    “Yes. I am.” Lance winked at her, moving away from the door of her apartment when the living room curtains parted to reveal a displeased Judith. He waved and turned to Maggie as the curtains snapped shut. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
    “I don’t know.” Maggie sounded irritated. “Practicing