He squinted at me as if he were inspecting the words. “Yeah, they don’t normally take them though. Unless their vacations take them south. Way south.” He looked to his boots, meaning clear.
“And why are you informing us of this in the frozen pea section?” I asked as Gage stayed silent.
“Curious if you knew anything, since it’s a big coincidence that not long after you do a story exposing him, he disappears.”
“I disagree. It’s actually extremely logical for a man to leave town after he’s exposed in illegal activities.”
“Drug dealers are rarely logical.”
“And I’m rarely fuckin’ patient,” Gage interrupted. “So I’m done with this, unless you want to take it outside? Leaving your badge and your pussy in here, of course? Yeah, didn’t think so. Next time you get curious, you take me down to the station. Not Lauren. And you better have a lot of shit to back up that curiosity. Police officers who fuck with me frequent the south on their vacations too.”
And that was that.
We hadn’t seen Troy since.
“I don’t fuckin’ get why you’re not makin’ a living out of it,” Gage said, watching me rush around the house. “You’re good at shit at the paper. Know that. I read everything you write. But this.” He gestured to the easel in the living room, facing the ocean—a big development for me to take it out of the place where I’d shoved it away like a skeleton—a painting half-done.
Not of the ocean.
Of Gage.
“That’s more than fucking good, Will,” he continued. “That’s fuckin’ magic. That’s shit the world needs to see to make them believe in someone who makes pain somethin’ more than what it is. You need to share it because you need to see how fuckin’ magnificent you are.”
I folded my arms against the warmth of the beautiful words. “You’re just saying that because it’s you,” I tried for sarcasm.
It didn’t work.
He narrowed his eyes, not speaking, coaxing more out of me as he always did.
“I’m just not ready,” I whispered. “You seeing those paintings, me telling you about that six months of my life that I’ve always been ashamed of.”
He clutched my hips. “Insanity isn’t something to be ashamed of, babe,” he hissed. “It’s a natural reaction to this fucked-up world. It’s showin’ there’s no such thing as sane.” He stroked my cheek. “It’s beautiful.”
I smiled, my eyes tracing his arms. “I agree,” I murmured, then admitted “Maybe I just need a little more time to convince myself of that.”
Gage’s jaw was hard, but he nodded once. “We’ve got time, babe,” he agreed. Then he threw me over his shoulder and I screamed. The swat on my ass silenced me. “But I need a little more time convincin’ you of how beautiful I find you.”
We were late to the soccer game.
Really freaking late.
I finally arrived at the front of the park, where Amy was waiting, still disheveled.
“You’re late. But then again, so am I. Likely for the same reason.” Amy smirked knowingly as she handed me a cup of iced tea, not looking at all disheveled.
It was getting hotter now, hot enough for less clothing. Hot enough for Gage to wear short sleeves. Now his scars were part of him, not something that stuck out like they did at the start. Their ugliness was a reason he was so beautiful. But not everyone was like that, so people stared when we went out.
Because people loved being spectators to pain. Especially when they could trick themselves into thinking they weren’t participants. Even now, as he idled his bike at the entrance to the park, parents and their children focused on the skin of his arms, staring, whispering, averting their gaze.
It angered me at the start.
It didn’t as much now.
Because they were the ones who were missing out, living that narrow life of thinking that ugliness was bad and uniformity was beautiful.
“Will!” Gage’s voice carried over the stares and the whispers.
I turned from Amy.
“Love you.”
I gaped at him. He was free with his feelings. As free as he could be, at least, but shouting, “I love you” in a park full of people wasn’t exactly what I’d expected from Gage.
Which was why he did it.
And why it warmed me better than the April sun.
“I love you too,” I shouted back.
He grinned and roared off.
Amy linked my arm in hers. “That just made coming to watch such a stupid sport totally worth it,” she said, sipping from her cup and deftly dodging children while in heels.
I merely smiled and sipped my tea.
“I can’t believe you’ve exchanged ‘I love yous’ before either one of you has been rescued from a kidnapping attempt.” She paused. “Though I guess we could factor in you storming into the station and blackmailing an officer as a kidnapping rescue.”
I laughed. “Why is everyone waiting for a kidnapping?”