Page 31 of Flirting With Forever
A chuckle left his chest, and he shoved himself to his feet. The hurricane continued outside, and the electric had flickered for the last thirty minutes. It would go out soon, just like it always did. He’d retrieved candles and battery-operated lanterns to have at the ready before starting the game. “Fine but that means you ice that ankle again. You want a snack while we decide on our next game? Popcorn?”
“Yeah, thanks. That sounds good.”
He retrieved a bag of peas from the freezer and tossed it to her for her pillow-propped foot and then shoved a bag of popcorn into the microwave and turned it on, hoping the power didn’t go out before it finished.
A strong gust of wind combined with the rolling thunder and crack of lightning left Sloane gasping and flinching. He noted the way she curled in on herself, and his gut clenched at the sight of her fear.
The microwave beeped its completion, and he retrieved the bag and dumped it into a large bowl before carrying it with him, trying to appear calm and unbothered by the increasing storm outside.
Instead of returning to where he’d sat across from her, though, he ambled over and sat on the floor beside Sloane, shoulder to shoulder. He could feel her trembling. “You’re safe.”
She laughed, but the sound lacked any hint of humor. “Maybe, but from the sound of that wind, I’d say there are a few sharks out there now.”
He smiled at their earlier Sharknado reference and held the bowl out for her to dig in. “Eat. We’ll play a new game.”
Sloane plucked a few pieces from the bowl and munched. “What game?”
He resettled to get a bit more comfortable. “My sister likes to play one called Two Truths and a Lie.” She stiffened a bit against him, but he ignored the tell and went on. “What? If we’re stuck here together, we might as well make it interesting. I’ll go first.”
“Wait. Is this going to end in a draw again? Because if I win, I want a prize.”
Digging into the bowl, he smirked and tossed a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth to chew as he thought of what he’d like to get for his win. “What do you want?”
“If I win, you make Cole let me play whatever music I want in the rentals building during work for…a week. No, until I leave town,” she quickly countered. “While I like some of the old-school heavy metal, all day, every day is starting to drive me up a wall.”
Gage laughed hard at that, because it was a complaint all the brothers had made at some point regarding Cole’s music choices. “Deal.”
“Not so fast. What do you want? Not that you’re going to win. Because you won’t,” she stressed, side-eyeing him. “But just to be fair, name your prize.”
Since he couldn’t really name a kiss, he forced himself to reevaluate. “You tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows. Something you’ve never told anyone.”
She didn’t seem to like his response, but she also didn’t hesitate.
“Fine. One secret.”
“You any good at lying?”
This time, the smile that touched her lips left him taking a closer look due to the derision he saw in it.
“I come from a family of professional liars,” she murmured in a droll tone, not looking at him but at the TV they’d turned off because of the electric continuously flickering. “It’s in my blood.”
The way she said it… “Sounds like I need to be on my toes then.”
“Hey, you’re the one forcing Cole to accept a week of boy bands and Taylor Swift.”
He grinned, determined to lose if for no other reason than torturing Cole. “Game on, sweetheart. I’ll go first.”
“Flip you for it.”
He shook his head at her competitiveness and dug into a pocket to get a coin. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
He flipped it in the air, caught it and slapped it down on his wrist, revealing the winner. “You lose.”
She released a low grunt of complaint just as the electricity went off—and stayed off. He stretched out his hands onto the coffee table in front of them and pressed the button to turn on the battery-operated lantern, casting the room in a soft, hazy glow.
“I,” he began, “once got kicked out of a bar for arm-wrestling the bartender. I have an irrational fear and hatred of pickles. And I can juggle.”
