After depositing my purchases in the spare bedroom, I return to the kitchen to find Josh. “Where do you want to do this?” I ask, trying to sound less nervous than I feel.
Picking up his sketch pad, he ushers me towards the French doors leading to the deck. “Let’s go to the boat shed.”
We make our way down the slope. When we reach the small, wooden building, Josh moves ahead of me to open the door.
Instead of following him inside, I stop to admire the craftsmanship of the structure. Up close, it’s beautiful, obviously made with care and attention to detail.
“Are you coming in?” Josh asks.
I nod. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He touches my shoulder as I walk past him into the cabin, and a jolt of electricity pulses through my entire body.
It is bigger on the inside than I’d expected, housing all manner of tools, water sport equipment, and fishing gear. Clearly, the Hollands are the outdoorsy types.
“Where do you want me?” I ask, glancing around the room looking for somewhere to sit.
He shakes his head and beckons me towards the back door. “This way.”
The door leads out onto a jetty, and I follow him without thinking twice. In that moment, I realise I would follow him anywhere. He makes me feel safe, and I haven’t felt that in far too long.
“You can swim, right?” he asks, gesturing to the dinghy bobbing in the water. “Not that I plan on throwing you overboard, of course.”
“Like a fish,” I reply, stepping in, arms out wide to balance, then taking a seat.
Josh climbs in, dropping his backpack to the floor before taking a seat opposite me. He then unties the rope tethering us to the jetty. Locking the oars in place, he starts rowing while I take in the scenery. It’s a calm, clear day, but I wish I’d brought a light jacket or cardigan as the breeze on the water whips up around us.
Without saying anything, Josh pulls a blanket from the backpack and hands it to me.
“Thanks,” I say, wrapping it around me.
When we reach the middle of the expansive lake, Josh brings the oars back into the boat. We drift for a few moments before he reaches back into his bag and retrieves his sketchpad and pencils.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks.
“Not really,” I reply, scrunching up my nose. “No one has ever drawn me before.”
“I’m glad I’m your first,” he says, a hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth.
I roll my eyes. “Just hurry up and draw me already.”
“You’re a hard taskmaster, cupcake girl.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help smiling at the nickname.
“Okay. For a few minutes, just pretend I’m not here. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“That’s no problem at all.”
He clutches his chest. “I feel like I should be offended.”
Smiling, I drop my shoulders and the tension in my body eases a little. But when he leans forward and appears to be studying me, I feel vulnerable to his scrutiny. It’s as if he’s trying to discover all my secrets simply by looking closely enough.
“Why did we come out to the middle of the lake?” I’m whispering, but I’m not really sure why.
He doesn’t answer immediately and I find myself leaning forward, weakening against the magnetic pull I’ve felt since the moment we met.
“I didn’t want you to be able to run away,” he says eventually, edging forward.
We’re so close now I can feel his breath on me. “Fair enough.”
Josh grazes his lips across mine but doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he whispers directly in my ear. “I’m trying to work you out and didn’t want to take any chances.” Pushing the loose strands of my hair behind my ears, he must know the breathtaking effect he’s having on me. “Plus I thought you’d like it out here,” he says, his eyes back on mine. “You get a blissful expression on your face whenever you’re looking at the water.”
Closing my eyes, I nod, accepting his answer. I’m falling under his spell, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
When I hear the familiar sound of lead on paper, I allow my mind to drift away with the cool afternoon breeze. A thousand thoughts jumble together like carriages on a runaway train. For some reason, each one of the many jobs I undertook since moving to Melbourne takes its turn up front before bouncing back to the recesses of my brain. My heart muscles constrict remembering the overwhelming loneliness I experienced by never staying anywhere long enough to make any real connections. I was there simply to do the job, then I’d rush home to Mereki, who was no company at all.
“Hey, Emerson,” Josh says, interrupting my thoughts. “Breathe.”
Opening my eyes, I suck in a breath and scrunch up my nose. “Sorry. I guess I’m still nervous.”
His brows are furrowed with concern. “I won’t be much longer. I can finish it up later.”
“Okay.” I wring my hands in my lap, unsure if I’m disappointed or relieved.
He fixes me with his intense gaze. “I could’ve drawn you in detail without you being here at all.” He cups me under the chin and strokes his thumb across my cheek. “I just wanted the excuse to be this close to you.”
His words both slay and heal. “Can I see what you’ve done so far?”
He turns his sketchpad over and passes it to me. I gasp with rapture, shock, and recognition all at the same time. “It was your drawing I saw displayed in Madeleine’s gallery window the first time I ever went there.” I recall the beautiful drawing of a man’s face, half perfectly detailed while the other half was completely blurred.
“My only self-portrait,” he says, nodding. “Madeleine is my greatest supporter and often displays my work.”
Returning my gaze to the drawing he’s done of me, I’m again struck by the detail he’s managed to include in such a short period of time. “Why the blurred lines?”
He shrugs. “No one’s life is black and white. We all have grey areas—insecurities, flaws, imperfections, secrets. We’re all just human, and there’s a kind of beauty in that.”