Emily breathed out, not having a clue what to say. His statement shook her from her own self-pity.
Gavin then did something impetuous. He simply felt the need to touch her, so he leaned over and wiped the tears from her cheek. Emily didn’t move. “I remember what it felt like seeing her sick and in pain. The fear of not knowing what life would be like without her is something I’ll never forget, but I know one day I’ll have to face it. I also remember feeling exactly the way you said you had felt. I wanted it to end—for her to either just die so she could be at peace or get better. I wasn’t able to see her like that anymore. I used to actually crucify myself for feeling like that. Emily, just know that what you felt—what we felt—is very real and a very normal human reaction.”
Sniffling, she glanced up to him, noticing the sensual perfection of his face now touched with grief. Behind those blue eyes was the soul of a man that had gone through his own share of pain, and Emily couldn’t decipher what was worse—her losing her mother to cancer or him living in fear that his mother’s cancer could come back.
With concern in his eyes, Gavin leaned forward and studied her face. A weak smile crept over his lips. With his voice low, he said, “Now that I’ve managed to fuck up a pretty decent evening by making you cry, why don’t we play a game to lighten the mood?”
Emily let out a gut-belly laugh due to the wide range of emotions flying through her head. “You didn’t fuck up the evening.” She then rose to her feet, wiped the last few tears from her eyes, and stretched her arms over her head. “I needed that, believe me.”
He stood up with her and smiled. “Okay, good. So you’ll play a game with me then?”
She smirked, eyeing him suspiciously. “What type of game would Gavin Blake suggest we play? And no wisecracks either.”
“Mmm, that’s a tough request.”
He flashed an impish grin, and without saying another word, he slid the bottle-cap-filled terracotta pot to the middle of the balcony. He then playfully commanded her to sit Indian style on the floor ten feet away from it. With her expression showing her curiosity, she did as he instructed. He opened the doors to his bedroom and disappeared briefly. Emily sat for a few moments, wondering what he was doing. When he reappeared, he had a sweatshirt in his hand and a freezer bag holding additional bottle caps.
Walking over, he tossed the sweatshirt on top of her head and laughed, “You look cold; put that on.”
He sat Indian style on the floor next to her with their knees barely touching.
Smiling, she yanked the sweatshirt off her head and slipped it on. For a brief second, she tried to burn the smell of it into her memory. It reminded her of when they were in the elevator. She couldn’t quite pin what the smell was—a mixture of cologne, body wash, and aftershave came to mind.
“So what’s the name of this game we’re about to play?”
Gavin looked into her green eyes. Under the light of the moon, they looked angelic. “It’s kind of hard to pronounce,” he slowly replied, staring at her lips as he tried to shake the fascination he had of her from his body.
“Try me.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper and purposely hesitated between each word. “It’s…called…toss…the…bottle…cap…into…the…pot…right…there….” He pointed to the pot.
Trying to ignore how sexy his voice sounded when he whispered, Emily playfully nudged his arm. “Wow, you’re truly a wiseass, huh?”
“Yes, in every possible way,” he laughed and handed her a couple of caps. “You go first.”
Barely being able to see, Emily crinkled her nose as she tried to focus on the pot. She tossed the first one and missed by at least five feet. They both laughed. When it was Gavin’s turn, he closed his eyes and sank it right in.
“I’m just assuming here, so I apologize if I’m wrong, but I’m thinking you’ve played this game more than once,” she remarked.
“Why, I’ve only played it twice, of course,” he laughed.
Emily threw another and missed by only a foot this time. “Twice, my ass. There has to be five-hundred bottle caps in that thing.”
Gavin shot her a wry smile. “Close but no cigar. It’s actually over a thousand.”
“Drink much?”
“Many summers, many parties, many friends equals a huge bottle-cap collection, Miss.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Speaking of collections, I noticed the many vehicles you have parked in your driveway.” She took a swig of her beer. “A motorcycle, a BMW, a Bentley, and I don’t know the name of the other.”
He smiled. “It’s a Nissan GT-R.”
“Yes, a Nissan GT-R,” she laughed. “Boys and their many toys.”
Rubbing at his chin, he gazed deep into her eyes for a second. “Don’t we all have to fill voids in our lives with something?”
Taken aback, Emily searched his face, not knowing how to answer.
He flashed a smile and casually tossed another cap into the pot.
She could tell there was more behind his question than she could possibly understand. The first thing that popped into her mind was an onion. Gavin Blake had many layers to him that needed to be peeled. Some that were there were true to their form, but others were simply a cast-iron veneer she felt he wore around himself.
After several hit and missed thrown caps and much-needed laughter, Gavin looked at his watch and noticed it was past three in the morning. Standing up, he offered Emily his hand, and she accepted.