Trent takes it, nodding gravely. Then his gaze flicks over to me. “I really want to catch her, but I’m not sure I can.”
I can’t help laughing, loud, stupid, but also frustrated. “Going to let her go, then?”
“Can’t. Grandpa loves her.”
We stare at one another.
The kiddos laugh around us and one boy manages a perfect tackle—he comes to us, holding her out like an offering.
I whisper, “Be gentle.”
Trent whispers back, “Talking to the kid, or to me?”
The tension shifts, light, dangerous. We move in together, both reaching. Our hands meet first. Then feathers. Then success.
A chorus of small cheers goes up along with some disappointed squawks from seagulls.
The kids scatter back to their parents, leaving us alone by the tussocky dunes. I can feel the burn in my legs, the pulse in my throat, and the weight of Trent’s hand still brushing mine as he steers the leash back on.
“Why?” I blurt.
He looks over at me and reads the rest of the question in my eyes. Why is he acting like this? Distanced, but not. Like he wants to let go of any Dylan, but must cling tighter to Ika. Why hasn’t he mentioned the fake boyfriend act all day?
His lips press together and he lowers himself to the sand with the chicken. He pets her feathers as he considers his words, and then looks over at me where I’ve crouched beside him.
“I like you. I’m attracted to you.”
It’s a flurry of punches that rob me of breath.
Then the biggest punch:
“And I don’t want to cross that line.”
I feel something unspooling inside me. It feels raw and messy, and I’m close to a hiccup.
I swallow it down and hold his gaze. My name slipping from his mouth, his whispered confessions, my photo in his wallet.
I whisper croakily, “But you were already crossing it.”
It wasn’t just me.
Trent looks towards the turquoise ocean and nods. “But this morning I realised things were getting... If I mess this up, Grandpa loses his smiles and you lose your studio. I won’t be the reason for either.”
My throat is thick and aching. But I can’t even curse him for it because Grandpa... I want his smiles too, no matter how eccentric.
I get it. Totally.
Maybe I even encouraged this. My warning:Careful you don’t make a mistake that’ll cost you Grandpa.
I meant it. Imeanit.
Grandpa’s voice has us both jerking to our feet. “What’s all the commotion! I could hear you screaming from the rockpools.”
Grandpa, Trent, and the chicken bundle into the truck.
“Sure you don’t want to ride back with us?” Grandpa says, half hanging out the passenger window. I urge him back inside.
“Friend just messaged. I’m going to meet her.”
