The Writer & The Player #Wattys2016

Chapter 10

I eye him nervously, as he scrolls through his phone. 

"Okay, first question." He says. I bite my lip. "What job would you be absolutely horrible at?"

I raise my eyebrow at the unexpected question, then thought about it for a moment. "Councillor or psychiatrist. I'd get to emotionally involved with people." I laugh slightly. 

His eyes flicker to mine, as he takes a sip from his can, with a small twitch of a soft smile. 

He ponders for a moment, as he thinks about his answer for the same question. "I could never do anything that involves math," He says. "I suck at math." 

I smile. "You wanna hope this whole Football thing goes well for you then, huh?" 

"Isn't it already?" He wavers his hands around and gestures to the house and ocean view with a smirk. 

I grab my can of Coca Cola and raise it upwards. "Touche." The cockiness annoyed me, but he was right. His career had been doing pretty damn good for him so far. 

He slides the phone across the day bed over to me so I can read the next question. "What is your all time favourite food?"

"Tiramisu. Without a doubt." Pretty damn good choice, I'd say.

I think for a moment. For as long as I can remember my love for ice cream has topped all foods on the list. I mean who doesn't love the cold creamy sweetness of ice cream? "Ice cream. All the way."

I slide the phone back to him with one hand, my can in the other, as I feel my heart rate slow down, and my body relax more comfortably into the day bed. These questions weren't going so bad. But there were 19 left. That's what concerned me.

He's stunningly green eyes lit up from the screen in front of him, as I watched him scan and read out the next question. 

"Favourite book of all time?" He asks. I stare down at the cotton cover on the day bed, running my fingers over the top in a methodic pattern. My all time favourite book is, and stereotypically, The Great Gatsby. I'd been trying to track down a first edition ever since I was 15, but never found one. "F. Scott Fitzgerald's, The Great Gatsby. It's been my favourite ever since I first read it." 

He nods his head in acknowledgement as he thinks about what his favourite book is. "Mine is The Blind Side. Yes, it's typical and no, I don't care." He smiles.

I laugh slips out of me, as I feel a smile forming on my lips. "You're right, that is pretty typical of a football player, but it is an incredible book. I'll give you that." I say, meeting his gaze.

"Favourite colour?" He asks.

"Aqua."

"Orange." He says. 

"Ah. Explains your lounge room decor." I say out loud accidentally, then smile sheepishly. His lounge room was full of vibrant orange cushions that sat against the white sofas with a plush orange mat that sat against the clean marbled flooring.

He laughs deeply, meeting my eyes with humour. "Okay, what was your childhood pet?" 

"My childhood pet was a Golden Retriever named Kiwi, I got her when I was 5 for my birthday from my Dad." I answer, nostalgically. My mind wandered to Kiwi, my Canine best friend who always comforted me more than many others could. She passed away over 5 years ago. I missed her furry face so much.

"My parents never let me have a dog, but they let me have a turtle." He says looking out into the night sky. 

"A turtle? What was it's name?" I ask, inquisitively. A turtle was definitely an unusual pet, thats for sure, but why didn't his parents let him have a dog? Everyone has a childhood dog!