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“’Cause I rarely see you cry.”
“Well, we haven’t known each other for a long time.”
“Correction: we have known each other for a long time, but we haven’t gotten to know each other until recently.”
He had me there. We’d seen each other for years—at family events, at Alec’s birthday parties. It was crazy how we’d been within each other’s vicinity for years and mere strangers, but now, in a matter of weeks, we knew so much about each other.
“She was the best person I knew.”
“And you’re the best person I know,” he said softly, with sincerity. It blew me away.
We stood there a few more seconds until one of the poles jerked forward, startling us into action. Immediately, Austin grabbed the fishing rod from the ground and tugged it forward.
“I think I got something.”
“Omigod! Austin, reel it in. Reel it in.” I’d gone from sad to exhilarated, excited to see his catch.
He jerked the rod, and soon enough, a fish—I couldn’t tell what kind—wiggled on the end of the line.
I flipped over the bucket that I had been sitting on, and Austin placed the fish inside it.
“That’s one good-sized fish.” His manly chest puffed with pride, and I had to bite back a chuckle because it was cute. “So, do you know how to unhook him?” Austin tipped his chin to the fish flailing around.
I reeled back. “Me? This is the first time I’ve ever been fishing.”
“Um, me too.”
“Just put it back then.” I gave him a grossed-out look. I hadn’t thought this far. I’d prepared and gotten us everything we needed, but I guessed I’d forgotten what would happen if we actually caught something.
I squirmed, looking at the fish wiggling on the hook. Yes, fishing only looked entertaining on YouTube. This was not for me.
He returned with ano kiddinglook. “We’ll have to unhook him to put him back.”
I’d thought of everything, but why hadn’t I thought of what would happen when we actually caught a fish?
AUSTIN
I ended up unhooking the fish from the line. “There’s blood on my gloves now.” Not like that sort of thing grossed me out or anything, but still, I liked this pair of gloves.
Sydney patted my back. “But you did an amazing job. Now, little Nemo is free to roam the land.”
I looked at her, deadpan. “That was a largemouth. That wasn’t Nemo.”
She shrugged. “Want to go again?”
“Nope. I’m good.” I shivered. “And I think it’s getting colder. Feels like it at least.”
She nodded. “I think so.” She twisted her lips as she looked into the hole. “So, shall we grab lunch since we let our lunch go?”
I took off my gloves and threw them in the bucket, already packing up. “Lunch sounds great. Anywhere in mind?”
“Sushi?” she said, her gorgeous eyes lighting up. “I’m in the mood for fish now that we let Nemo go.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “Whatever your little stomach desires.”
We walked to the car—me carrying both of the buckets with my good hand, Sydney carrying the poles. When we were at the car, we slipped off our gear.
“How much did you spend on all of this?”
