Page 42 of Adrift

This is it. Oh, god. Please don’t let this be it.

“Yah huh?” I squeak.

Gage actually gives me one of his rare, sweet little smiles, his eyes filled with a warmth I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. “It’s dry enough, eh?” he says, and I have no idea what he means, but it doesn’t even matter.

My jaw drops.

Gage is leaning over the counter and reaching straight for my crotch.

Can I even breathe anymore? My cheeks are glowing like the noon sun. He doesn’t hate me after all! But… just how happy did I make him?! This is the last reaction I expected from him, in front of everyone?—

Bloody hell, I’m a grade-A lemon.

Gage was reaching for my hands. You know, the part of me that’s in between him and my crotch? Even a brief brush of his fingertips against mine makes my head spin until it’s over, and he’s pulled the cleaning cloth from my aching fingers.

Ohhhh. I’ve been wringing out that poor cleaning cloth to within a millimetre of its life.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Gage asks me.

Holy fucking?—

He’s never called me sweetheart before.

Just like that, the butterflies are officially back. And they brought friends. And all of them are having an illegal rave inside my chest cavity.

“G-Great,” I stutter, nodding for what I hope is a normal length of time and not far too long. “Great.”

Gage stops, looks at me thoughtfully, and then he smiles. “You’re really good at this.” And, get this… he isn’t even being sarcastic.

I tear my gaze slowly away from his eyes and stare at the bar top, which is now covered in water.

“Uh…?” I grunt the question, raising my shoulders.

“At many things, really.” Little crinkles appear around Gage’s eyes, and his smile grows. I’ve never seen him look like he’s trying to hold back this much nervous excitement. “So… I’ve been thinking.”

Wait.

This is it. It’s actually happening.

I’m desperately employing the only reliable method of holding my tongue, also known as holding my breath. But it only works for so long, and then I might pass out.

But then we can say our first date was to the ER, which makes a great story for the grandkids.

“Would you like to…” he stops and clears his throat.

I try to arrange my face in a way he’ll interpret as reassuring.Just say it. I promise it’ll be a yes.

Gage scratches the back of his head and frowns. “I mean, first of all… you don’t have to, of course…”

Getting dizzy. Spit it out.

“Take some time to think about it, if you want.”

Gage fucking Russell, for the love of all that’s holy?—

“But, that said,” Gage smiles sheepishly, probably at the impatience that I’m radiating from every fibre of my being, “if you’re interested…”

I’m out of oxygen, and time’s up.

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