Page 170 of Play of Love
Chapter 8
Evie
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Should I be worried about this?
This newfound admiration for Gage that I never expected to experience in a million years. But it wasn't just admiration. Admiring someone was different. You respected what they did and their personality. This feeling I had included admiration; I just wasn't sure what the feeling was. One thing was certain, and that was he was no longer that person he used to be. This Gage might look like that person I used to know, but he wasn't him.
We'd been out here for hours now, and once again I was having a great time with him. We stayed in the sea until it turned dark and a whole other host of fears filled my mind about swimming around in the dark. Then we went back to the beach where they changed, moved their stuff to the bonfire pit, and set up a small fire. It was there that he regaled me with tales of his adventures as we sat on the sand by the fire.
Everything he told me sounded so farfetched. Like bungee jumping, skydiving and jumping from planes onto mountains so he could snowboard down their slopes. It sounded like something from one of those T.V shows, like Adrenaline Junkies.
Now he was telling me about his football fights and how he'd broken his nose at least five times and dislocated his shoulder hundreds of times.
"You just pop it right back in." He beamed as if there was nothing to it, flicking the end of his T-shirt. I cringed and shuddered at the thought although it was intriguing to hear what he'd done.
"Didn't you go to the hospital?"
"Nah. Too much time and they'd probably sign me off. They don't call me Gage Force for nothing."
I'd heard that name on a few occasions. Most often when I'd gone to visit Lucy, and I was watching him play on ESPN.
"You are something else," I giggled.
"Exactly." He smiled. "We should have marshmallows for this." He motioned towards the fire.
"I don't know what those taste like." I thought they looked weird so had never tried them, and the gooey insides put me off even more.
Gage looked at me like I'd just said something entirely ridiculous. "Woman, what they hell? How could you not know what marshmallows taste like? They're amazing. That's like saying you've never had chocolate. You're telling me you've never even had a hot chocolate with marshmallows?" He narrowed his eyes at me.
I shook my head. "They look like bird droppings."
He laughed. "Even the pink ones?"
"They have pink ones?" I didn't know that. I'd only ever seen them in white.
"Yes. Okay, the next time I go into town I'll pick up some pink ones just for you and make you a mean hot chocolate. I'll also get the big white ones. Before we leave here, we'll have them on a bonfire."
I smiled at the thought of him making something for me.
"Okay, that sounds nice."
"That's it... You aren't going to do your usual protest?" He chuckled.
"No. I'll try it." I offered a small smile.
"Cool. So, now I know you don't like lizards, never tried marshmallows, and you seem to be wary of the sea. Apart from music and Lucy, and Italy, I have no idea what else you like." He did that sexy half smile thing that usually accompanied tilting his head to the side.
I bit the inside of my lip as my cheeks flushed. He'd caught me off guard with wanting to know what I liked. When I thought about it, I'd gotten to know so much about him over the last few days. More than I'd ever known in the last twenty-five years. I had gotten lost in listening to him and hadn't really shared anything about myself other than how I saw music and composed.
Compared to him I was boring, and I feared he might think that when he noticed I had nothing to share.
"I... well. I don't get to do much. I like shopping." I loved shopping, but that wasn't exactly unique or interesting. "And um..."
Wow, I was boring.
He was looking at me with anticipation, waiting to hear. The fire flickered and the shadows danced across his face.
