Page 21 of Rock Hard Alien

Georgie's grin turned evil. “No. This is one of the human consequences. I was not stupid!”

“I may have been mistaken in my first impression. But so were you. You thought I was stone. Which kind of proves my point yet again.”

She raised the cushion again. “You're not making friends here, stone-man.”

I caught it before she could hit me. Georgie pulled, trying to take it back, but I held on. Our faces were suddenly close.

Her laughter faded.

“I no longer think you are stupid,” I said.

“What do you think now?”

“That is a different question.”

“Coward.”

“Ask it when we reach the cliffs.”

She let go of the cushion and leaned back, increasing the gap between us. I wanted to pull her back until she was pressed against me. I yearned for her touch. Needed it desperately, yet she wasn't ready.

“My turn,” she said after sipping from her mug. “I'll stay on the ground. What did you want to be when you were a child?”

I could see what she was doing. She'd chosen a simple, innocent question that wouldn't bring us back to the tension that had been sizzling between us a moment ago.

“I come from a family of warriors. I don't think I was ever given the option to choose a different vocation. But I loved it. Loved the thrill of the battle, the challenge, the honour I brought for my family and my people. I honed my body into a weapon.”

“Does that mean not all gargoyles look as chiselled as you?”

I flashed her a smile. “Are you talking as a stonemason or as a female admiring a male?”

“Stonemason. I'm nothing if not professional. And since I was hired to do maintenance on you, this is still a business relationship of sorts. I can't be seen ogling the grotesque I was supposed to remove moss from.”

“You never removed any of my moss. I should file a complaint.”

“You should.” Her gaze swept over me. “Is there any moss I should know about?”

“I scratched my back earlier and got some green under my fingernails. Maybe you should check. Since you're an expert.”

For a moment, she looked as if she was about to reach out, but then her expression closed off again. She wasn't ready yet. But we were making progress. That was clear.

“Your turn. What did you want to be?”

She bit her bottom lip. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.

“For a long time, a firefighter. But then I burnt myself at my grandma's house and decided I didn't want to be near flames again. My parents wanted me to go to university and become a teacher like them, but I was never very academic. I preferred to work with my hands. And since becoming an artist didn't seem like something that could pay the rent, I signed up for an apprenticeship in traditional skills, then specialised in stonemasonry two years in.”

“And are you happy with your choice?”

Georgie answered immediately. “Yes. It might not be a very glamorous job, or even a well-paid one, but I love what I do. That's the important thing, isn't it?”

I nodded. I was really getting the hang of these human gestures.

“Not quite so fast,” Georgie whispered. “Nodding is slower than that.”

Or maybe I wasn't.

“My turn again,” I said. “I will move up to the cliffs now. What do you fear most?”