He twists toward me, offering a hand. “Do you trust me?”
I spark at the endearingAladdinreference—until my arm drops midair. My face falls, and so does his. I can’t grab his hand.
I lock into his eyes and nod seriously to his joking question.
“Just not enough to tell me the truth.” He stands abruptly, snags his bag, and brushes off pine needles as he heads for the playground.
Levi was a wild stallion before I came along—all grace, strength, and raw energy. He would be a sight to behold in a reciprocated relationship, a beautiful force of tenderness and passion. He’d be free to run concurrently. But I can’t be the one. To be close to me is to remain in my cage.
Watching him pump his legs on a swing tugs at my cheeks. I join him on the next one and oochy-scooch into proper position. Closing my eyes, I revel in the freedom of flying through the air. Back and forth, hair blowing in thewind.
“Favorite color,” I say into the quiet.
“Today, blue.” Frustration leaks into his charming reply.
“Today, green and gold.”
We silently adjust to swing in sync, side by side.
“Favorite place,” he asks.
“The creek at our usual trail. One of my favorites, anyway.”
“Tell me about it.”
My chest warms. “Okay, close your eyes. Picture a bright blue sky, weirdly blue. Dry, clear-tasting air, and pines everywhere. They’re taller and thicker than these and, I don’t know, happier looking.”
He peeks at them, chuckling.
“And aspens and spruces. Fifty-foot spruces you can’t even see the top of. And so many rocks, like God ate some red marbled cake and different sized crumbs fell everywhere. Some so big they’d crush you if they shifted. And some so small they crunch under your feet. Depending on the season, there’s grass or leaves or snow or flowers on the ground. And then, if that wasn’t perfect enough, there’s a wide stream—crystal clear water, with that perfect falling sound. And if you keep walking, you’ll see layers and layers of mountains, grayish blue at the front and lighter in the distance.”
He opens his eyes to send a wistful smile. “I’m sold.”
“What’s your favorite place?”
His gaze drifts to the horizon. “The Sound. On a boat.”
“Your dad’s sailboat?”
He brightens. “You remember that?”
“Duh.”
“With Everett. And a couple grinders.”
“Grinders?”
He half laughs. “I’d be almost unrecognizable to my friends growing up, but I can’t remember how to say a sandwich. A grinder is like an Italian sub.”
“Was that a daydream or a memory?”
“Memory.” He hesitates. “A daydream would probably include you.”
My shoulders curl in. Sweet Levi. The familiar pang returns—I’m not being fair to him.
“You’d be unrecognizable?” I ask.
“I … adapted when I came here. Some differences were an asset. Others, a liability.”
