FINAL Day of Addison Moore Week! SURPRISE *GAGE POV* Exclusive

*Wipes Eyes* I'm So SAD and So Happy .... 

SO HAPPY that today I get to bring you an EXCLUSIVE Gage POV *dances* It's awesome

SO SAD that today is the last day of this AMAZING week with Addison!!

So Thank you so much to all of you! Also HUGE thanks to Addison for letting me kidnap her and her characters for the week....I'm stalkerish when I get going on a project and she rolled with it :) Now enough from me.... here is GAGE!!!!

*My Gage*

(Chapter 2 of ETHEREAL from Gage’s POV) 

Gage

I catch Logan over by the register counting change or lack thereof. Poor guy will be completely grey before his twentieth birthday. All he thinks about is turning a profit. Really I know he’s trying to hang onto the last bit of his parents he has left—and that incarnation just so happens to be this bowling alley. 

Brielle comes in with her hair pulled back, energized like she just stepped out of a light socket. She speeds in this direction with a girl about our age, face of angel, body to match, so of course I drop the mop and head on over. They try taking a seat but Logan intercepts. 

“Bree,” he says, but it’s her friend he’s interested in. Any new female on the island has a Logan shaped target on her forehead until he tags and bags her—then again, he’s never slept with anyone but Chloe, and God knows that turned into a nightmare. 

I shoulder up to him and devour the new girl with my eyes—forget to breathe or move in the process.

She’s wearing shorts that show off her golden tan legs that stretch out forever. Her hair falls in waves, long over her back. 

It’s her.

The room warps. Everything turns into a muddy spiral with the exception of the vision standing before me. I know that beautiful face, those prism-like eyes. She’s haunted my dreams for years, supplied my waking hours with nonstop fantasies, and now she’s standing in front of me as if she had always been here. 

 “Guys, this is Skyla,” Brielle bounces. “She’s moving into Chloe’s old house. Skyla, these are the knuckleheads I work with, Logan and Gage.” 

Chloe’s house—just hearing that, pulls the pin on a grenade I’ve been lugging around in my gut. 

Skyla. 

My insides erupt like a furnace. Being near her kick-starts a serious rush of adrenaline, and my hands begin to shake.  

Love her name. I love the way she rest her hand on her hip, the way a smile plays on her lips as if she’s too shy to give it. There’s a softness in her spirit, a meekness that draws me in. 

I’ve counted weeks, days, hours, without any idea if she even existed—with the very real possibility it were all some hallucination my mind had conjured up in an effort to torture me, and yet she’s real—so damn freaking beautiful—and most certainly not noticing me.

She’s looking at Logan—probably wondering why he’s smiling like some deranged lunatic. I’d better step in before he wrecks everything—before she decides it’s better to steer clear of the bowling alley and the Olivers in general for her own personal safety.

“Skyla?” I put my hand out, and she takes it, soft and fragile. I close my eyes a moment as her flesh warms to mine. “Gage Oliver.” My heart pounds so loud I’m sure she can hear it. Not even the sound of the bowling balls thundering towards their destination can drown it out.

Maybe I should lean in and kiss her on the cheek or something? I shake the thought away. What the hell kind of idiot kisses someone they just met? This is going to end with a slap in the face or a restraining order if I don’t maintain. 

“You have a very unique name,” Logan extricates my hand and takes over. “It’s beautiful.” 

Figures.

He bows in and presses his lips just under her wrist.

That answers my question. Logan is just the right kind of idiot—a real knight in shinning armor. I’m sure he’ll be throwing rocks at her window later for the midnight serenade. 

I glare over at him. 

He’s hypnotizing her with his pretty boy magic, flashing his teeth, broadening his chest—forgetting to exhale like he’s giving some primal demonstration of his athletically advanced DNA.

Skyla gives a less than amused smile. Hopefully she’s categorizing him in the dope with no hope division. 

 “Logan Oliver,” his voice dips low. 

Brielle and I exchange looks at the desperation of it all.

“Oh, so you’re brothers?” She turns her body into him. It looks seductive, like some erotic autonomic response, and an alarm goes off in me. 

Logan is taking over. She’s buying into him hook, line, and sinker. 

“Cousins,” he corrects as if he’s trying to distance our blood relations. “I live with them.” He lays his other hand over hers like some bizarre display of benevolence. 

I’m sure he’s plowing through her thoughts, spinning through them like a Rolodex trying to decipher how she feels about him—see if there’s anything he can use against her in the name of sealing the deal. 

“My parents are both deceased,” he adds. 

And he goes there.

I cut him a dirty look. 

It sounds like he blurted it out but still. Knowing Logan, there’s an underlying strategy involved. 

Skyla shrinks a little as she takes in this odd admission. She pulls nervously at a long strand of hair, looking perfectly freaked out.

I glance back at Logan.

Nice work, Romeo. Boys with dead parents are a no-fly zone for most girls. Emotional trauma isn’t usually high up on the must have list of attributes. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her eyes round out in horror.

Unless, she happens to be the exception. 

Her hips sway into him, and she gives a look that suggests she might be willing to comfort him physically.

“My dad died, too.” Her voice softens to nothing as she glances to her feet.

My heart stops. Just hearing her say those words makes my stomach bottom out. 

I hope Logan feels like crap for digging in the graveyard for sympathy. Now look—she’s visibly upset.

Everything in me wants to comfort her. The fresh look of hurt in her eyes lets you know it wasn’t long ago, that it stings like hell to think about. I want to tell her it’s going to be OK, but I know better. OK is a futile word especially when it’s nothing but a lie. Things like this never turn out OK.  

Logan surrenders her hand like returning a stolen treasure. 

I hope he heard how lousy she thinks he is for spotlighting her biggest loss.

“Sorry,” he offers. It comes out genuine with his own built in sadness filling in the cracks of her grief. 

Logan motions them over to a nearby table, and I secure the seat in front of the girl from my dreams. No use in letting Logan lead her any further down the wrong path, i.e. himself.

He gives a dissatisfied look in my direction. 

It’s on, and he’s pissed.

I blink a smile into him. I’ll gladly go toe to toe with Logan in this arena. This isn’t Michelle, or Lexy, or just any other girl on the planet. If he thinks I’m getting out of his way because he says so, he’s delusional. 

All those dreams and visions mean something—the one in the courthouse—Skyla looking up, waiting for a kiss—it was me she wanted it from—it had to be.  

“So you’re a junior?” I touch my knuckles to the table like a nervous habit.

“Yup.” She bites into her lip—her perfect pout mesmerizes me. “And you guys?”

“We’re all juniors!” Brielle rattles her to attention.

If Logan and his eulogy didn’t run her off, Brielle and her manic enthusiasm—over school of all things, just might do the trick.    

She stares into Bree with great intensity. 

Thought so.

 “So tell me about Chloe,” Skyla says it casual with a dark undertone that pricks my hairs on end. 

The table goes quiet.

Nobody knew Chloe like I did. I’d venture to say that even Logan with his sexual conquest of the dearly departed knew her far less. 

A part of me wants to tell her about Chloe, about the hype and paranoia that surrounds her, but no good could ever come of it. The last thing I want is to spook her—send her into Logan’s arms permanently and ruin things.

I’m keeping my mouth shut that’s for damn sure.

For a minute I consider taking her someplace private so we can be alone like Devil’s Peak or Rockaway. I want to tell her that I’m already in so deep, that I’m dying to know her, feel her, taste her. 

I bear into Skyla with a penetrative stare—drink her down like holy water, take in her beauty, the light she radiates without even trying, but she doesn’t glance back. She’s too lost in Logan to even notice. 

I doubt those visions will ever come true if she gives her heart away to someone else. 

I know one thing for sure—I’ll fulfill a commitment I made long ago to find a place for myself in her life. I’ll rearrange the universe to make this happen. Logan doesn’t stand a chance.

She bats her lashes into him dazzled and doe-eyed, drop-kicks my heart in the process—a field goal for the other team.

This is going to be tougher than I ever imagined.

*Sigh* yeah I love that boy!! 


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