“Relax,” I said, slapping her leg lightly. “It’s supposed to be fun.”
She summoned up a smile, but all I could think about was the fact that I had just touched her leg.
“So, I’ll start then,” I said. “Favourite movie?”
She shuffled around as she thought about the answer. I waited patiently, but she was looking more and more anxious.
“If you’re trying to impress me with something really artsy – like some foreign film or something? – don’t bother. I’d be just as impressed if you said ‘The Godfather’ or any of Tarantino’s movies.”
“Um,” she mumbled, fidgeting again. “I’m trying to think. I don’t really have one. I don’t watch a lot of movies.”
“You don’t?”
She shrugged. “Not really. But tell me yours.”
This definitely wasn’t working out like I’d hoped it would.
“I suppose ‘The Godfather’ is mine. I’ve watched it more often than any other movie.”
She nodded, smiling tightly. I threw the ball back into her court.
“So now you go,” I said. “Ask away, anything at all.”
She thought about it for a moment. “Favourite colour?”
“Seriously?”
“Why? Is it pink?”
That made me laugh out loud. That, and the cheeky smile when she said it.
“Do I look like my favourite colour is pink?” I rallied. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that. It’s blue, smart-arse. Yours?”
“Green.”
“Like your eyes?” I said, without even thinking. Jesus, that was smooth.
“Do you think they’re green?” she asked shyly, her cheeks flushing. “I thought they were hazel. More brown than green.”
“I don’t know. They look green in this light.”
I leaned forward, peering into her eyes, slightly embarrassed at how forward I was being, but also grateful if it gave me this opportunity to study them up close. She didn’t back off. They definitely looked green now, but not just green. They were green, with flecks of golden yellow and brown through them. They were stunning, actually. Chameleon eyes.
I wanted to kiss her.
The idea was so overwhelming, I nearly did, and that freaked me out. I lost my nerve, backing away to give us both room to breathe.
I glanced out over the water at the rapidly setting sun. “Do you feel like a walk along the beach before it gets dark?”
She smiled, obviously relieved. “Sounds perfect.”
We stood up, and I led the way to the path that led down to the beach. As we made our way down onto the sand, she fell in step beside me. I glanced over at her as the warm breeze lifted stray strands of her hair. The sun was almost gone, its last act of the day streaking the sky with slashes of purple and pink. We were close enough to touch, watching the show together, as if the sky was a canvas being painted with an invisible brush. It filled me with a sense of fulfilment, of warmth, that I hadn’t felt for a long time.
Her hand brushed up against mine and I finally mustered up the courage to reach out and take hold of it. She glanced up at me, smiling shyly. We settled into comfortable silence, walking slowly along the beach together, hand in hand. In direct contrast to how she made me feel earlier – out of control, impulsive – now, all I felt was strangely content. Her hand fit inside mine so perfectly, it was as if it was meant to be. I wondered if she felt the same way. She certainly wasn’t shying away from me. It was odd, the way she would let me get physically close to her, but mentally, she was avoiding my questions and keeping me at a safe distance. It was an intoxicating paradox.
Come closer, don’t ask me anything.
I felt like I needed to explain myself, to let her in and hopefully, to make her understand. Maybe she needed to know where I was coming from. Maybe she was keeping me at arm’s length until she was sure.
“Y’know, I haven’t done this since Emily disappeared,” I said. “For a long time, it felt like I was cheating on her somehow, like moving on was wrong. It felt wrong. I wasn’t ready – sometimes I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. But then I met you.”
We stopped walking and faced each other. In the dusky twilight, I tried to read her expression, to figure out if I was making any sense at all but she just stared up at me with those beautiful chameleon eyes.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t make a habit of this. This is… special. You’re special. It feels right, being here with you.”
I brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear as I’d seen her do a handful of times tonight. She reached up to take my hand in hers, holding it, as if me touching her like that was making it difficult for her to think clearly.
“I don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing,” she said. “So this is probably gonna sound stupid, or crazy or whatever, but I felt something when we first met. I don’t know what it is, or how to describe it. I just… did.”
My heart nearly exploded with relief. It wasn’t just me. She felt it too. I wasn’t in this alone.