He keeps walking like he doesn’t hear me, and that only fuels my anger. I try not to think too much about the sway of his narrow hips or the ripple of his back muscles beneath his fitted, black t-shirt, or even the cool air that is whipping through those blond strands of hair that make me want to run my fingers through them.
Because those thoughts are completely inappropriate.
“I’m not kidding, Gage, I will smack the shit out of you with my titanium hand and you’ll wake up tomorrow with a concussion!”
That stops him right in his tracks and I wonder if it’s because he thinks I’ll do it, or if he’s calling my bluff. Either way, I’ll take it. We’re alone on The Green, a patch of synthetic grass dotted with trees, flowers, and benches. The kids’ playground is a few feet away, but the little ones are probably at the schoolhouse. Just because we’re in hiding doesn’t mean we don’t want our kids to get a good education. One day, when we’ve righted the wrongs of our country and are able to become productive members of society again, we want the kids to be ready.
“What do you want from me, Blythe?”
The question catches me off guard, even though what I wanted to do at first was convince him to let us use Agata. Now, looking at him and seeing pain wrapped in mystery flashing in his eyes, I am not sure exactly what it is he’s asking. Does he need to know what I want from him right this second, or are we talking about something deeper?
“You came to me yesterday and acted like you wanted friendship. You kissed me—”
“I believe it was you who did the kissing,” I interject. Despite the breeze, my face goes hot at the thought of his lips on mine.
Gage lifts a blond brow and snorts sarcastically. “Yeah, and it only takes one to tango. Give me break, Blythe. If your boyfriend hadn’t come in and ruined it, I could have had you on your back.”