“It’s easy to like winning games. It’s better to enjoy kicking the ball around. That way you always get something out of it.”

It was such a wholesome answer, said with such sincerity, the hairs on the backs of Eden’s arms lifted. “And when you’ve got a few hours free on a weekday, what do you do?”

“Head down to the beach and call my dad.”

She raised a brow. “You call your dad from the beach?”

“Yeah. He’s in Rockhampton—where I’m from—so when I call him by the water…” He hesitated. “Fuck, I really am jelly and ice cream.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say, ‘when I call him by the water, it feels more like we’re together.’”

Eden’s chest ached. “Disgustingly, sickeningly sweet. So, you’re from Queensland?”

“Not really, I grew up in Rocky, but I was born in Scotland.”

“Seriously?”

“Aye, lass.”

Eden glared at him. “You are not Scottish. Is this another tender man strat?”

“Nope. I’m from Edinburgh. I lived there until I was three and even after Dad and I moved, I went back every summer.”

“So you could see your mum?”

Willow’s face went blank, and Eden knew she’d fucked up. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He held up a massive hand. “It’s okay. My mum died in a car accident. That’s why we moved. My dad was in a wheelchair, and he wanted a fresh start.”

“Oh.”

Willow shifted in his seat. “He’s still in a wheelchair. I don’t know why I said it like that.”

He seemed smaller. Diminished by the confession. Looking at him, Eden wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it was rough.”

They sat in the worst silence Eden had ever experienced—including the Christmas she’d puked on her sister Sienna’s macrame wall hanging. It was unthinkable that minutes ago she’d been laughing her ass off. Then his hand closed over hers. “Hey. Look at me.”

With great difficulty, she met his gaze. She felt sober, the watermelon margaritas gone from her system.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m happy to talk.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “About your mum and your dad and everything.”

Willow smiled. It made the skin around his eyes crinkle. Eden’s stomach swirled. She wished he’d let go of her hand. “I have one more question. To figure out if you’re basic.”

He smiled. “Go on.”

Sweat prickled her palms, but she knew after the ‘dead mum’ comment, she owed him some hand-holding. “What’s your perfect day? Like no wishes or magic or anything—just an ideal normal day.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Sleep late, have breakfast at the café around the corner from me, call dad at the beach, then have the boys and their families over for a barbecue.”