When she finally disappeared inside — presumably to inform her online friends about Kai's non-existentservices— I slumped onto the porch steps and sighed.
Kai followed, sitting down beside me in his typically sprawling manner and taking up too much space. The yard buzzed with cicadas, and somewhere a lawn mower droned, lazy and steady.
He leaned back on his elbows, squinting at the sky. “Soooo…”
“So?” I huffed.
“I was wondering … is this your hometown?”
“Yeah.” I lowered my gaze to my hands in my lap. “Born and raised. Never left.”
“Really, never? I’m assuming you like it here, then?”
“Ilikenot worrying about Gran setting herself on fire. She’s got a thing for scented candles and ‘manifestation rituals.’”
Kai chuckled. “She’s a legend.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Kai stretched his legs out and the sunlight slid over his skin in an entirely unfair way. He was so fucking tan and I suddenly had the most unhinged impulse of wanting to trace the trails of sweat covering his neck with my tongue.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I suppressed this insane desire and tried to distract myself by studying the traditional-looking patterns of ink covering his shoulder and upper arm.
I wondered, not for the first time, what they symbolized. What they might mean to him.
Kai squinted up at the sun. “You ever think about leaving?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But it’s complicated.”
He nodded thoughtfully, not pushing. Then, after a beat, he asked, “You staying for her?”
“Yeah. Someone’s gotta.” I sighed. “You’ve seen what she’s like. Besides, I could never leave her.”
Another silence fell, but it wasn't uncomfortable; it was thick with a kind of heat, making everything appear to unfold at a slower pace.
“You ever not want to go home?” I glanced at him and found him already studying me.
“Back to Australia, you mean?” he questioned with a faint smile, shaking his head. “Nah. Miss the sea. My little brother. My whole family, really. The food, the coffee, the people, everything.”
There was a softer quality to his voice as he spoke, and I wasn’t sure I liked the way it tugged at me.
“How’s the food different? What does your mom cook?”
“Roast dinners, pavlova, meat pies, all of it. Mum would probably be planning my birthday feast already.”
I blinked. “Your birthday?”
“It’s next week.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a big one. But it’ll be weird to celebrate it without them.”
There was a little twinge in my chest at the slightly forlorn look on his face. “What about your uncle?”
“I reckon we’re going to have a cracker. It'll still feel strange without them, though.”
Do Australians have special birthday crackers?
“A cracker?” I cocked my head curiously.
Kai huffed out a laugh. “My bad. To have a cracker is what we say when we want to describe having a really good time.”
