“Difficult?” I offer with a wry smile.
She laughs. “I was going to sayreserved, but sure, difficult works, too.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Fair enough.”
The teasing light in her gaze softens into something more serious. “Then I saw you with Isla, and I saw a different side of you. You looked at her like she’s your whole world, Aidan. So patient with her, even when she’s driving you crazy.” She pauses. “It made me want to know that version of you more.”
The words land between us with a weight that makes it hard to breathe.
“I’m not…”
I’m not…what. Not good? Not ready? Not enough? I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
Lucy’s expression remains open in that way that makes it hard to look at her and even harder to look away. She doesn’t rush in to patch the silence.
I let out a breath that scrapes its way out of my chest. “I don’t always get it right,” I finally say. “With her. With any of it.”
Her mouth curves into a small smile. “No one does.”
I’m not sure who the hell I thought I was fooling by pretending I hadn’t already made the decision that I want to try this with her.
I’ve spent so long trying not to need things for myself. But this? Her? I want to know what it looks like to let her in. And not just around the edges, not just in the cracks when I’m too tired to hold it all together. I want the whole thing.
So instead of reaching for all the heavy shit again, I leaninto the one thing I haven’t let myself have in a while. Curiosity.
“So,” I say, “tell me something I don’t know about Lucy MacKenzie.”
A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “Okay,” she says, leaning forward just slightly. “Here’s one. I can’t ride a bike.”
“You’re joking.”
Her grin only widens. “Nope,” she says, shaking her head, “I never learned. Knox and Callan tried to teach me once when I was a kid, but I fell and broke my wrist. I swore I’d never get on one again, and I stuck to it.”
A low chuckle rumbles from my chest, and for a second, the sound surprises me, but it feels good. “You run a whole café by yourself, but you’re scared of a bike?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not about fear. It’s about principles. Besides, I’m perfectly content walking everywhere.”
“So, you’ve never taken a road trip on a bike, then? Experienced the wind in your hair, the freedom of the open road?” I lean back into the couch, finding myself more relaxed than I’ve been all day.
“I’ve managed to experience plenty of freedom without risking life and limb, thank you very much.” She smirks at me. “Your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about Aidan.”
I take a slow sip of tea, buying myself a second to think. Not because I don’t have answers, but because I don’t have the kind you give when someone’s looking at you like that. Like they might actually care what you say.
“I can play the guitar,” I offer. “Or I used to, anyway.”
Her eyebrows lift, and her whole face brightens. “Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a musician.”
“I’m not.” I huff a laugh. “Just something I picked up in school. I played around with it for a few years but haven’t touched it much since Isla came along.”
“Do you still have one?”
I nod toward the hallway. “In the closet somewhere. Gathering dust.”
“You should play for Isla sometime. I bet she’d love it.”
I nod again, slower this time. “Maybe.”
I’ve thought about it. I just haven’t had the time, or hell, maybe the permission to want something that small and personal for myself.
