He replies without hesitation. ‘What’s yours?’
‘Pillow Fight, as well. Favourite song?’
He shakes his head. ‘Nope. You go first this time. You might be stealing my answers,’ he teases, earning him a glare.
‘“Amelia”.’ I keep my eyes on his face to gauge any reaction, but his face is as unreadable as ever.
‘Alright. I’m gonna go with “Stage Fright”,’ he says.
Interesting. He’s chosen material that has flown under the radar for most people, so he clearly has knowledge of their discography. I have to stop myself from looking in any way impressed.
‘Predictable,’ I breathe into my glass as I take another sip. Elliot barks out a laugh, eliciting a snort from me in response. Our eyes meet in a silent dare.
‘Looks like I might be a fan, after all.’
‘Maybe,’ I say mildly, refusing to relent.
‘Perhaps you’ll stop quizzing me now and needing to prove you love this band more than I do.’ His voice rumbles under the music.
‘But you haven’t even given me a chance to gatekeep yet,’ I protest.
‘How oldareyou?’ he asks.
I wheeze a laugh, drinking in his cool smile. ‘Twenty-two.’
‘Have you considered behaving like a twenty-two-year-old? Recently? Or ever?’
I press my lips together to hold in another bout of laughter. ‘Remember when I called you unreasonable?’
‘I’ll never forget it, princess.’
I shrug. ‘I’d just like to reiterate that. You know – again.’
‘Fine. Received.’
Curiosity gets the best of me. ‘How old are you?’
‘One year your senior.’
‘You don’t act like it.’
His overwhelming presence is beginning to settle in my nervous system, and I realise I’m eager to keep him talking. About pretty much anything.
‘Anything else you… do?’
‘What do you mean?’ he asks, his glass frozen next to his lips.
‘You know, when you’re not stealing from innocent, young women and allegedly listening to Queen Ego, what might you be doing? Shot put practice near a children’s playground?’
He snorts with laughter and I feel unreasonably proud of myself for causing it.
‘Underground vole racing? Running a granola-based small business on Etsy?’ I motion at him to elaborate.
‘Is that the vibe I’m emitting?’ he asks with concern.
I consider him for a moment, wrinkling my nose. ‘A little.’
‘Jesus.’
