Page 20 of Can I Tell You Something?
His move was a gamble. He has no way of knowing if I heard his audio, so I’m desperate for him to wake up so I can get a read on him.
My heart rate quickens when I hear a door open on the upstairs landing, but the feet that come down the stairs belong to my brother. He grunts in my direction as he heads for the kitchen.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait much longer,and he appears a few minutes later, still in pyjamas and a t-shirt, one hand scratching softly through his mussed up hair.
“Morning, Hannah.”
“Good morning, Cameron.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, a broad, knowing grin stretched across his face.
“Yes, thank you.” I hope he barely slept a wink, the cheeky fucker. “I listened to some music, woke up super relaxed.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” he cocks his head to one side, eyes on me. “What did you listen to?”
“I don’t think you’d have heard of it.” I take a slow sip of my coffee and refuse to look away.
“I have pretty varied tastes.”
“It’s kind of niche.”
“Try me.”
“Why are you being weird?” Ryan interrupts our stand-off, tearing off a hunk of baguette and smothering it with jam. “We all know it was probably Taylor Swift.”
“Hey,” Cameron snaps at him. “Watch your mouth, bro. Nothing wrong with a bit of Taylor.”
Chapter 15
Cameron
“Youfeelyou’vegotthe hang of this now? Or do you want me to ask the liftie to slow it right down for us?”
“I think I’m pretty much an expert now.” The way she rolls her eyes at my bragging is so damn cute. We shuffle forward in the line, bumping our wrists against the lift pass scanner as we approach the turnstile.
“What’s your favourite Taylor Swift song?” I ask once we’re in the air. I learned fast that if I don’t ask Hannah a question on the chairlift, she’ll stay quiet the entire time. It’s not that I think she’s a shy person, I think she just forces herself to keep her mouth shut around me.
What I really want to ask is if she listened to the audio I uploaded yesterday, but I only had to take one look at her sipping her coffee on the chaise this morning and I knew she had. So Taylor Swift it is.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she laughs, wiggling her hips as she gets comfy in the chair. “One does not simply have afavouriteTaylor Swift song. It changes day by day and mood by mood.”
“Do you have a favourite audio of mine?”Oops. There goes my resistance.
“What did you say?”
“What else do you listen to?” I try not to smirk, but pretty sure she narrows her eyes at me from behind her goggles. I can practically hear her brain whirring as she thinks about how to respond. As much as it’s fun to play with her, I don’t want to push her even further away. Now seems as good a time as any to clear the air.
“Hannah,” I tuck my ski poles under my thigh, the way she showed me, then lean a little closer so I can lift her goggles up and rest them on top of her helmet. Her eyes meet mine as she sucks in her breath and holds it there. “I know you know who I am.”
Her mouth parts, closes softly, then parts again. I’m dying to hear her admit it, but she looks away, and pulls her goggles back down.
Fuck. I’ve lost her.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” I say. “It would be hypocritical for me to judge the very people I make content for.”
She turns away, arms folded across her chest.
“Come on, admit it.”
