Page 60 of The Player in New Zealand
“You okay?” he asked, earnest.
“I told you this wasn’t serious.” Even to my own ears, I sounded petulant.
Thankfully, Tane was just amused. “Who said it was serious, Claire?” He leaned down, nose to nose with me. “You can’t tell me how I feel. If I want you to know how I feel, I’ll tell you. And I won’t know how you feel unless you say it. Don’t worry, your feelings are safe.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “Protect yourself all you need, Claire; you know where to find me.”
He turned his back to me, scanning the shelves. “Which gin do you need?” I told him and he pulled down the bright green bottle and passed it to me.
“I look forward to getting you alone again soon. I’ll remind you how much fun it can be.” With that, he winked and was gone.
TWENTY
“We should get away soon,”Tane suggested the next week, a Thursday evening after the crowds had started to die out and we finally had time to breathe. We hadn’t spent time together aside from a few stolen kisses in the stockroom, and one particularly heavy make-out session behind the storage shed in the yard.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked him. We were alone behind the bar, polishing glasses.
“What’s still on your list?” he countered.
A customer raised two fingers and I poured him another beer, thinking back on my New Zealand bucket list. When I returned to Tane, I’d decided.
“Glowworms.”
“Ah, good choice.” He paused, thinking. “You like camping?”
“Maybe? I dunno, never done it before.”
“There’s a lake up by Taurangathat has glowworms. It’s nice—less crowded than some of the other spots. We can rent kayaks and paddle to see them. And it’s autumn, so the temperature is not too bad. I’m keen if you are?”
Over the weekend, we pieced together our plans. Tane was going to pick me up Monday, and I assured him I would find camping gear for us since he was driving. I half-heartedly tried to suggest flying when I found out it was a six-hour drive, but Tane would have none of it.
“Ilikedriving,” he’d said.
Just like our drive to Auckland, Tane picked me up early. Perhaps, because we knew each other better, he was more relaxed, more energetic. He whistled as he drove and pointed out the sights, even as I tried to sleep in the passenger seat.
For lunch, we stopped for meat pies and coffee at a small kitschy bakery. I ate a pork belly pie while Tane finished off three of various flavors before we started back on the road. I was more awake, and asked Tane questions about his time traveling for the New Zealand rugby team. He was lecturing me on the rules of offsides as we pulled into a parking lot next to a large lake. There were a few pop-up trailers and tents set up on the shamrock-green lawn, people milling around barbecues or picnic tables.
Tane checked his phone. “Plenty of time before dark. Let’s get set up.”
We converged at the back of his truck—excuse me, ute—and Tane lowered the gate.
“Where did you get the gear anyway?” he asked me, grabbing bundles of stuff from the bed and walking it out onto the grass.
“I asked at the hostel, and one of the managers made some calls for me. This German couple had been driving around with camping gear, but they’re staying at the hostel for a week to be close to downtown.”
Tane crouched, his finger tracing over the label on the biggest bundle. “I’m not sure this tent is going to be big enough.”
“It’s for two people,” I pointed out. “See?”
“Did you by any chance mention to them that the second person is, well, me?”
“I haven’t told anybody,” I said quickly. He frowned at that. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. How small can it be?”
He pulled the drawstring, opening the bag and spilling the contents out onto the lawn. “Let’s see what we’ve got, eh.”
* * *
Our tent was tiny.Tane couldn’t even fit in it lying down; he had to curl up on his side, which he was currently demonstrating while I peered in from the flap.
He grinned from the ground. “You have to snuggle with me.”
