“Sure.”
“Let me guess. Something yellow?”
My cheeks grow hot as I hide my face in my hands. “You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?”
“Probably not. Did you have something else in mind?”
“No,” I admit with a groan, and he chuckles.
“Then sweet and yellow, coming right up.”
He doesn’t go far as he mixes up my drink, and unlike the last time he did this, he doesn’t take his eyes off me as he tosses around the shaker and bottles with unexpected dramatic flair. If it were anybody else, I’d say he was goofing around and putting on a show for me, but it’s Gage. He wouldn’t do that, would he?
Stormy eyes twinkling, he slides the ice-cold glass over to me and waits for me to take a sip. It’s clearly a different drink than before—there’s sugar on the rim instead of fruits, and the color is less orange. I don’t know if different is good. What if I hate this one? Would I have to drink it anyway? I can’t not try it either—not after he spent the time making it for me.
I steel myself and take a tentative pull from the straw. Tart lemon and sweet peach fill my mouth, even more delicious than the drink he made last time. My eyes widen as I take another, larger sip.
“Good?” he asks.
A satisfied grin breaks through his stoic mask as I nod with vigor.
“I’ve been playing around with different drink options that meet your criteria.”
His confession fills my chest with warm honey. Or maybe that’s the alcohol. Either way, Gage has been thinking about me. Maybe as much as I’ve been thinking about him.
“Do you watch movies?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips.
I’m not great at this whole small-talk thing, but nine out of ten times, movies are a surefire way of getting people talking. In my experience, everyone has opinions on the matter, and people love talking about their opinions. Even surly bartenders…I hope.
“What?” He cocks his head to the side but doesn’t seem put off by my question.
That’s a good a start as any.
“Movies. Moving pictures on a screen, typically with sound and color. Good way to spend free time.”
“I know what movies are. Who doesn’t watch movies?”
“You’d be surprised. My roommate freshman year didn’t watch movies at all. She claimed it was a ‘waste of valuable time.’ Although in this case, it was a dumb question. You already told me about watchingRocky, and unless you watched that and decided ‘no more movies ever again,’ you probably still watch them.” The words pour out of me in a blathering stream.
“Yes, I like movies. I used to watch more but haven’t had time for things like that these past few years.”
“Do you have a favorite? Or at least a favorite genre?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Sports dramas are my favorite. Preferably about fighting. But anything with fast cars or explosions will hold my attention.”
“That’s way more normal than I was expecting. I was thinking you were gonna say something wild like you are into period pieces or Hallmark Christmas movies or something.”
“I’m a simple guy. What you see is what you get. No bullshit.”
“I’m seeing that. Not everyone is so forthcoming about who they are. I hate that. Those types of people are impossible to read, and I already struggle with reading people as is. At first, I thought you were all mysterious because you were quiet and broody, but now I think that’s just who you are. It’s not a mask you hide behind. I like that.”
“Are you saying you like the fact that I’m boring?” His question is tinted with the barest hint of amusement.
“Shut up, you know full well that isn’t what I meant.”
Gage smiles.
Not that half smirk that sometimes pulls at the corner of his lips, but an honest-to-God smile that even has the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s a miracle. I swear the sky opens up and lights shine down from the heavens while the angels’ trumpets sound from the clouds. Coaxing this from him should get me halfway to sainthood.
