Page 29 of Adrift

I’m not used to reacting this way. Nobody gets me tongue-tied—ever. If there’s one thing I have… besides my excellent blowjob skills… it’s a quick wit and a sassy attitude. Inviting Gage to stay with me seemed like the perfect chance to tease him straight into bed.

But I thought I was going to have the upper hand. Suddenly, I’m not really sure what I signed up for.

“Wine and icebreakers?”

We’ve both eaten as much dinner and pie as we can stand, and Gage just relocated to the couch.

“Wine, sure,” Gage says, and I unscrew a bottle of white to pour us two glasses. Then I bring them to the couch and flop down next to him. “But do we have to do the icebreakers?” He looks like the suggestion hurts his whole soul.

I laugh. “Or get-to-know-you games. Party dares. Whatever you want to call them.”

He eyes me, and then he pushes himself to sit upright a little more, pulling one knee up beside himself. “Actually, I was just thinking that you know my story already.”

Bollocks.My walls are flying up, anticipating the end of his sentence before he even gets there.

“I don’t know yours,” Gage continues with a shrug. “I’d like to.”

Okay. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s sweet of him to ask, and to be so direct about it. And it’s not like I’ve got anything to hide… there’s just a lot I’d rather not talk about.

“What do you want to know?” I ask as I clutch my wine glass a little tighter.

Gage tilts his head, watching me thoughtfully.

My stomach goes tighter with every passing second. I have the standard answers ready, of course. I could deflect him without a second thought. But he’s been so genuine with me today—so honest and vulnerable and real—that it wouldn’t feel right.

At last, Gage says, “Is everyone in Ireland this friendly?”

Oof.

I’m restrained in my reaction, all things considered. I don’t even flinch, much less spill wine all over myself. But I know he must have seen the shadow that just flickered through my thoughts—and over my face.

For the first time, I force a smile for him. “Just me,” I tell him sarcastically. “I’m the only friendly Irishman ever to live.”

Gage laughs.

Whoa. I’m so damn proud of getting that sound out of him that I’m actually breathing a little easier. I relax into the couch for a sip from my glass, winking at him.

“How long have you been here?”

“Eight months on Sunrise,” I tell him. “But I’ve been in Canada for… coming up to a couple of years now. I explored the country, worked my way from coast to coast. Best way to get to know Canadians… eh?” I try it out, with a cheeky wink.

I’m still not sure about the usage of that word, but Ithinkthat’s right.

Gage snorts at me and reaches out to gently shove my knee. “Yeah. That’s really cool, though.”

“Yeah?” I glance at him. “What does it tell you?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know. To pull off a trip like that, you have to be flexible, outgoing, confident… and a bit of a risk-taker, am I right?”

That surprises me into a momentary silence. Then I nod slowly.

“I worked on farms and orchards across Canada in my gap year,” Gage confides in me. The nostalgia in his voice makes me smile.

“Oh yeah? Is that where you got all those muscles?” I giggle.

Gage’s cheeks turn pink. “I… uh, thanks. I do work out a lot. I bet the orchard will take care of that now.”

“That makes one of us.” I pull up my shirt for a moment and grin as Gage can’t help glancing down at my smooth, bare torso—not remotely rippling with muscles. “I don’t have a body made for farming.”

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