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“He was an idiot,” Gage says, slouching down slightly on the love seat and glancing up at the ceiling.
“He was actually sort of a genius,” I say begrudgingly.
“But a dork, though, right? You seem like the type of woman who would go for the nerds.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m not interested in you.”
“Yeah, why is that?” he asks, glancing over.
I’m about to ignore him when I see the curiosity in his eyes, realizing he really wants to know. I guess that’s fair. He’s Gage Barrett—there probably hasn’t been much female rejection in his life.
“I told you,” I say, tapping his elbow with the base of my wineglass. “It’s not personal. I just…I’m not really interested in relationships.”
“Need I remind you that you’re part of a reality TV show all about relationships?”
“Need I remind you that I wasn’t the one who applied—and I only agreed after way too much wine and a hell of a lot of peer pressure?”
“From your friend? Marjorie?”
I nod. “And my mom. They have a long history of ganging up on me, and I have a long history of caving in to their idea of what’s best for me. Prom with A. J. Castor, college at UCSD instead of on the East Coast, the fancy marketing job after graduation…”
I break off, embarrassed by my spontaneous oversharing, but he doesn’t look bored.
“They ever get it right?”
I take a sip of wine. “Not really. I mean, I wouldn’t say I regret the things they’ve talked me into. There’ve been plenty of life lessons and memories to be had along the way. I do sometimes wish I was better about trusting my own gut, though.”
He looks back up at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, take it from me. Following your gut, or dreams, or whatever…it can be lonely.”
“You’re talking about your exes? The weddings that weren’t, or whatever?”
“No. I mean, yes on exes, but not them.”
“Then who?”
He looks back, a smile flirting on his lips. “Someone’s interested.”
“Curious,” I correct. “I’m curious.”
And I am. Annoying as it is to realize that Gage Barrett is shaping up to be much more than a pretty face, it’s also intriguing. He’s got hidden depths that I don’t think he lets anyone see, and, well…
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be the one to see them. At least a little bit.
“I don’t give away my secrets for free, Ellie Wright. I’m going to need something in return.”
“I am not putting out just so that I can hear about your ex-girlfriend.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Who said I wanted you to put out?”
I feel myself blushing at my own presumptuousness, and try to hide it by taking a sip of wine, which seems to be going straight to my head, because I’m suddenly entirely too aware that I probably would put out if he initiated.
I mean, I’m sitting in a cozy room, on a love seat, with Gage Barrett. If he kissed me…
“Take my deal, El,” he says.
When I lift my head, he’s right there. Not touching me, but closer, his gaze intense. “Stay on. Be my girl spy.”
I smile. “We’re not going to call it a girl spy.”
