Gemma pulls two shot glasses from the cupboard. "Shots?"
"Can you handle tequila?" I'm skeptical. I know this woman is made of tough stuff, but...
"Like a champ." That was a challenge if I've ever heard one.
"Pour," I order.
We clink our shot glasses together and say, "Cheers," at the same time.
It burns down my throat.
Gemma winks when she sets her empty glass on the counter without so much as a grimace. "Another, naughty American boy?"
I return a wink of my own. "Pour."
"Cheers," is repeated.
One more will make me loose but not drunk after all the food we've just eaten. "One more."
She pours only one this time.
"Cheers," I say alone. This time I set my shot glass in the sink and rinse it out along with hers.
She screws the lid back of the tequila bottle and looks at me. "Let's go sit by the pool. The weather's brilliant tonight. We should be outside."
Agreed. "Let's do it."
The complex's pool isn't far from her apartment. It's too cool to get in and swim, but I'll never pass up a chance to be near water.
We sit in two armless lounge chairs side by side, so it's basically like sitting in one big chair together.
The tequila's kicking in for both of us, I can see it in her eyes. They're hazed with honesty. She's an open book ready to relate her tales. And I want to hear them all. "Tell me about yourself, Gem."
She bends her legs at her knees and rolls on her side to face me. "What do you want to know?"
Everything, I want to say. But I start with, "What were you like growing up?"
"A proper girly girl with a bit of a rough edge. I loved makeup, Harry Potter and Twilight books, and our local rugby team."
"Team Edward?" My younger sister was obsessed with Twilight. I've never read the books but I took her to see every movie on opening night because no one else would. Even I have to admit Edward is one smooth dude.
She sighs contentedly and her eyelids flutter. "Always and forever. Edward was everything: protective, intelligent, romantic, fierce, loyal, and sparkly."
"What's your guilty pleasure?" This should be good. I know she won't say anything I expect.
She pulls her bottom lip in and pinches it down with her top teeth while she thinks it over. "Hmm...Justin Bieber."
Taken by surprise, a startled chuckle escapes as I shake my head. "You're joking?"
Her eyes widen momentarily with guilt, "Nope. Even have Bieber jammies to prove it," before settling into pride. The sudden transition is hilarious, alcohol animates her. "The lad put out banger after banger off this last album. I tried to fight it at first, but no one was immune to its powers."
"You realize he's Canadian?"
"And thus, a guilty pleasure," she justifies with a wink.
"What do you want to accomplish in the next five years?"
She doesn't hesitate, and though everything about her is sexy, the fact that she's driven enough to answer this question without a second thought might be the sexiest thing I've seen so far. "I hope to make partner at the firm I work for. That's my professional goal. But my priority is having a child. That's my personal, but more importantly, my life goal. I've always wanted to be a mum."
That was an answer I didn't expect. "What's the rush? You're still young," I question.
"I thought I was ancient," she reminds me teasingly. "For most women twenty-eight is young, but my family isn't like most. There's a high occurrence of uterine cancer on both sides. I've lost my mum, my gran, and two aunties to it. All in their early thirties. I go for regular check-ups, but because of the unusually high risk, I'm choosing to have an elective hysterectomy when I'm thirty as a preventative measure. My womb is technically in countdown mode preparing for a grand exit. I'd like to make use of it while I still can, if possible."
"Shit. I hate that word. I fucking hate it. Cancer is an evil that shouldn't exist. I'm so sorry, Gem."
She nods and blinks repeatedly to clear the tears from her eyes. When one breaks free she swipes it away quickly. "I'm sorry." Sucking in her lips, she pinches them between her teeth until the surge passes. "I'm sorry. I'm usually not this emotional about it. My mum's been gone for twenty years. Apparently, I shouldn't drink and discuss this subject."
I rub her arm to give her all the comfort I can. "Those tears are love. Don't ever apologize for that."
She takes a deep breath and a solemn, grateful smile settles in at the acceptance of my words. "Thanks. I just don't like crying in front of people, is all."
"I know we haven't known each other long, Gem, but I'm gonna let you in on a secret. I'm outstanding at friendship. Seriously, if I lived in England, I'd be knighted by now."
Her smile tips up and she almost laughs.
"And listening is my forte," I add. "So, talk, cry, yell, do what you need to do to deal. I'm here."
"Thanks, Sir Franco."
"Anytime. Can I ask you a question, and don't answer if I'm being a dick and overstepping my bounds, but why don't you have the surgery now and adopt instead? It could save your life."
She hesitates.
"I'm a dick; that was too personal. I'm sor—" I whisper, but she cuts me off.