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He purses his lips. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”
“Maybe a little,” I chuckle.
“What did you want to show me?”
I nod toward the sink. “Finish washing those dishes first.”
“Oh, so you were serious about helping clean up.”
I arch a brow. “If you want one of those cookies I see you eyeballing, then you’re going to have to get your hands dirty.”
“Such a brat,” he grumbles.
My lips curl.
Oh, he has no idea.
“I didn’t know this was back here.”
Ian’s fingers trail along an old chain attached to one of the swings, tweaking it thoughtfully.
I brush past him, plopping down into the rubber seat. “Jack and I used to play out here a lot while we stayed here.” I push the toes of my shoes against the ground, propelling myself back and forth and giving him one arched brow. “He would always push me.”
Ian chuffs as he moves behind me, giving my back a gentle shove. “Subtle.”
“Got what I wanted, though, huh?”
“Did you just bring me out here to get me to push you around?”
I tilt my head back to smirk at him. “You’d know if I was trying to get you to push me around.”
His fingers still at my back for a second, and I feel a tiny thrill course through me at having tripped him up, even if only a little.
“It’s always strange coming back here,” I murmur, my eyes sweeping over the empty playground. “Brings back old memories.”
“Then why come back?”
“I guess…because I know how much it means to these kids to have someone show up for them. Sometimes just showing up can make all the difference.”
“That’s…” He clears his throat. “That’s really great, Lila.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I let the tips of my shoes scrape across the dirt as I swing. “I really just wanted to see how you were doing with all this.”
“All this?”
“You know. The PR shit, the training, all the jerks on the internet…We haven’t had a chance to talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Don’t do that,” I huff. “It’s been a fucking whirlwind, Ian, and you know it. Even with all the good chatter on social media lately, I know people are still talking. I know it has to bother you.”
“I’m used to it by now.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have to be.”
He stops pushing, his hands curling around the chains on either side of me. “Why are we talking about this?”
“I don’t know…” I let my head drop back again to meet his eyes. “I guess I feel guilty that we never have.”
