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?”
