“Right. Good to know. I’ll just have to find another reason to get you to lean on my shoulder.”
She turned to look at him.
“I did that the other night, remember? You weren’t receptive.” His gaze held hers. “That’s not quite how I remember it.”
Drops of water clung to his broad shoulders and his chest. His legs were as sandy as hers.
“Men have selective memories.”
“We’re poorly designed creatures, there’s no doubt about that.”
“Some more than others.” She thought of her grandfather, and also her father. “And some are plain faulty. The sort you’d take back for a refund if they were a kettle or a toaster.”
“Hopefully in time, AI will invent a better model, then you won’t need us at all.”
“Interesting idea. As long as no one trains the AI model using the characteristics of the males in my family.” They were bantering, lobbing words back and forth, while underneath something deeper shimmered. Something delicious and dangerous.
Unsettled, she tugged the damp towel from her shoulders and folded it. “Do you think her father felt even a flicker of remorse at the way he behaved?”
“You mean your grandfather?”
“There is nothing grand about him, and he wasn’t much of a father either so no.” She shrugged. “I can’t think of him as my grandfather. Family is important, I’ve always believed that, but so is self-preservation.”
“From what you’ve told me there didn’t seem to be remorse. Denial, maybe. You don’t think your mother intends to stay in touch with him then?”
“No.” She was absolutely sure about that and once again she admired her mother’s strength.
He sat up and put his hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to go back? Take a shower and grab some dinner?”
If she did that the evening would be over and she didn’t want it to be over. She wanted to stay here, with him, staring out across the sea. She could happily have stayed like this for the rest of her life.
“No, I’m too wound up. My head is racing. And anyway, I like being by the ocean. I find it soothing.”
“You live by the ocean.”
“It’s not like this.” She sat up and looped her arms round her knees, gazing out across the sea as the setting sun sent orange and red streaks across the sky.
She felt his shoulder brush against hers and she turned to look at him.
“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you have things to do. More important things than playing lifeguard.”
“That’s not why I’m here. And if you’re staying, I’m staying.”
I’m staying.
It could have been just kindness of course, but she knew it was more than that. And he knew it, too. She could see it in his eyes.
The strength of their attraction was something she hadn’t ever felt before. She was careful and thoughtful in her decision making but with him she wanted to abandon both care and thought.
She felt shaky and strange, unbalanced by all the revelations about her life. It all seemed unreal, but this—he—felt real.
“How was your day? I haven’t even asked.”
“It was less eventful than yours.” He wiped a droplet of water away from her face with the tip of his finger. “Fairly typical day. My dad went for physio which means he was cranky and needed someone to take it out on.”
“Ouch.”
“But despite that, he’s improving. He even admitted it.”
