Struggle: Beautiful Series, book one

by Anderson, Lilliana

  He frowns. “But you train together. Why can’t you have a conversation in the office?”

  I shrug. “It’s easier not to.”

  “I thought you’d both agreed to be friends. I don’t understand the need for secrecy.”

  OK. Here we go. “Well…” It’s my turn to adjust the cutlery on my plate. “It’s because we’re on the radar after getting hauled into Priya’s office. And… we’re a little more than just friends now,” I say, meeting David’s eyes to take in his reaction.

  Keeping his expression even, he sits back in his seat and runs a hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing out his tie. “How much more?”

  I bounce a shoulder. “I don’t know yet. A little? I mean, we have vague plans to maybe see each other this weekend. And I already read him the riot act.”

  His brow lifts. “The riot act?”

  “Yeah. It’s new. It’s the one where I insist he treats you the same way he’d treat a female best friend. I told him I wouldn’t be forced to choose again.”

  Folding his arms across his middle, his eyes stray towards the band as the intro to Step by Step plays. “That sounds serious.”

  “I felt the need to set some ground rules early.”

  He looks to the band again. “Wanna dance?” A grin curves his mouth as he nods to the dance floor, suddenly filling with people.

  “New Kids on the Block is playing. Of course I want to dance.”

  Standing up, he holds out his hand. “Come on, then.”

  We slide seamlessly into the growing crowd, David bouncing his shoulders to the music before performing a suave little spin that has me giggling and dancing along, singing lyrics I’ve learned by heart. We dance to covers of Jennifer Lopez, Destiny’s Child and Backstreet Boys. David has all the moves, knows all the words, and stays true to his word, keeping his focus only on me. No distractions.

  “Sway with me,” he says with a lazy smile as the intro to Aerosmith’s I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing plays. With a quick glance around the dance floor, I see everyone coupling up or holding hands with friends.

  “This feels like one of those scenes in the movies,” I say as I step into his waiting arms.

  He quirks a brow, his arms settling around my waist. “And what scenes are those?”

  I thread my fingers together behind his neck, looking into his happy eyes, a smile becoming a permanent fixture on my face. “Oh, you know. The ones when high school friends suddenly realise they like each other as more than friends. A total cliché, but we all love a slow dance first kiss.” I giggle a little then rest my head on his shoulder, enjoying the sensation of being in his arms, feeling safe and protected.

  “As I recall, your first kiss had nothing to do with dancing,” he says, his nose in my hair.

  “No.” I lift my head and meet his eyes. “Someone stole my first kiss through an open window.”

  With his trademarked cheeky grin, he brushes the back of his fingers along my jaw and tucks my hair behind my ear. “At least you don’t deny it now.

  “How could I? We had our first fight over it.”

  “And I guess I just kept fucking things up from there.”

  I release a charged breath, hating that David feels in any way responsible for the hurt I’ve been through. “No, David. You valued our friendship, and you’ve always been there for me. Always. Even back then, when I asked you to give me more, I understood why you couldn’t. And you know what? I'm glad.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah. Because we’ve had eleven years together as best friends. Imagine you’d given in and been my first everything? It would have changed us. In the beginning things would have been great. But as time went on and our lives changed, we’d feel stuck together because we didn’t want to lose our best friend as well as our partner.” I shift my hand to the side of his face, running my thumb lightly against his stubble. “What is it you used to say to me? Better to be a friend forever than a lover for a moment.” He nods once to confirm it. “You were right. I’ll take forever as your friend any day of the week. I love you. I love what you are to me. Just as you are.”

  “Trina.” With a deep sigh, he pulls me against him, hugging me tight as we continue to sway lightly to the music, breathing each other in. When I'm with David and all his attention is on me I feel like the centre of the universe. He’s so damn charismatic, and I can understand why women flock to him, why men are jealous of him. And I realise that I'm jealous of him too. I wish to my very core I had his confidence, his zest for life. It’s never mattered what negative shit was going on, he always had a smile and the desire for a good time. He makes the world fun, and he needs to know that I don’t resent him any of that. He is who he is and I accept him.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you weren’t enough,” I say over his shoulder. He twitches like he wants to move so he can see my face, but I hold him tight, preferring to say this part without eye contact. “That day out at the lakes when you asked me what I wanted from you; it hurt me. Not just because of the crass way you did it, but because you touched on a nerve. If I’m honest, somewhere inside me, I’ve always thought you slept with those girls because you didn’t want me; that maybe I wasn’t pretty enough or desirable enough. You kept telling me you didn’t want a relationship with anyone, but I wasn’t listening. I just kept hearing you didn’t want a relationship with me.” With that part said, I pull back and meet his eyes, a swirl of confused emotion as they lock with mine. “I was wrong to think that. I was wrong to put that negativity on you, to tease you or try to make you feel guilty for your choices. You were honest. Always. And I’m sorry for pushing you like that. It was cruel and judgemental and I really am sorry.”

  His eyes move between mine, his lips slightly parted like he’s searching for something to say but can’t find the words. I place my hands on either side of his face and smile up at him tenderly. “You, David Taylor, are the best person I know. And I never want you to change.”

  “What if I want to change?”

  “Then you’ll still be my best friend,” I say, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug.

  “Your best friend,” he repeats.

  I squeeze him tighter. “Always. Thank you so much for tonight.” It’s just what we needed to clear the air and strengthen our bond before anything more serious happens between Elliot and me. David needs to know that our friendship is safe and secure.

  With his chin tucked against my neck, he breathes in deep. “I love you, baby girl.”

  “I love you too. Best friends forever?” I pull back and look him in the eye.

  “Yeah. Best friends forever,” he echoes, bringing me close until the slow song is over, signalling a break in the entertainment while dessert is served. I take the opportunity to visit the ladies, and when I return, David is talking animatedly with the server from before, doing that suave spin of his to show off before she laughs and leans into him. I hang back for a moment, observing the ease at which he interacts with the opposite sex. It’s like second nature to him. He could have any girl he set his sights on. Anyone at all. He just has that special something about him that draws people in.

  Instead of taking it personally, I smile this time, still feeling that familiar tightness in my chest, but without letting it turn into a negative emotion I have to brush aside. I accept him for who he is. And I love him just the same. Because love comes in many forms, and you don’t have to be with someone to love their soul.

  Thirteen

  “This is the famed Bondi markets, huh?” I say, turning a slow circle as I take in the eclectic mix of stalls. There’s a woman selling crystals and jewellery, and a man selling honey. Across from them is a tent filled with women’s clothes, then a stall for antiques. The scent of cinnamon in the air tells me doughnuts are nearby. My stomach grumbles.

  “Maybe I should feed you.” Elliot catches my hand as he laughs.

  “I skipped breakfast,” I say, placing my hand on my stomach. I was so nervo
us about coming to see him I spent far too long choosing my outfit and not enough time on the regular things like eating.

  “But it’s the most important meal of the day. Surely you know that.”

  “I know. I just woke up late and had to get ready quickly to catch the train,” I fib, hoping the cute white summer dress I chose looks as good as I think it does. It’s hard to find clothing that looks feminine on my non-curvy body, but the flare of the skirt gives the illusion of hips. If I had to describe this dress with one word, I’d call it flirty.

  “I would have waited,” Elliot insists, giving my hand a squeeze. “But, since you didn’t eat, it just means I get the pleasure of sharing two meals with you today.”

  “It’s almost lunch. I can just have a snack and eat something more hearty later.”

  He glances at his watch. “It’s almost eleven which means we can eat now and call it brunch. Then we’ll scour the markets and when we’re done we can eat again and call it…linner?” He frowns. “Lunner? Dinch? Hmm. I don’t think I like any of those.”

  “My vote is for linner, because it’s past lunch and before dinner. That works for me.”

  He pulls me a little closer, his hand catching me about the waist. “Then linner it is.” He leans forward and pecks me on the lips. “But first, brunch.”

  I grin. “Is that all you’ve got for me?”

  “Brunch?”

  “I travel all this way and all I get is a peck?”

  His eyes shine with mischief as he positions himself in front of me and slides his big hand into my hair, holding my head steady. “You want more?”

  “Yeah, I want more.”

  I part my lips as his mouth moves closer, my tongue snaking out in my eagerness for this kiss. I feel his breath tickle against my flesh then my stomach voices its discomfort again.

  “Oh my god,” I gasp as Elliot chuckles and drops his forehead against mine.

  “Food first. Kissing later.”

  “OK. But don’t you dare let me down, otherwise I can’t promise I’ll stick around until linner.”

  Threading his fingers through mine, he tugs my arm lightly so I follow him. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  As much as I wanted the doughnuts I could smell, they were hardly a decent breakfast—or brunch—fuel. So Elliot took me to a little café in the strip of shops nearby where we grabbed a couple of toasted sandwiches and bottled iced coffees then took them to the grassy foreshore where we sat watching the surf and the busy beach.

  “Do you ever use that gym over there?” I ask, pointing to the white and steel equipment littered with people doing strength exercises.

  “No.” He laughs, shaking his head as he places the cap on his empty drink.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I like the regular gym.”

  “Do you ever swim at the beach?”

  He shrugs. “Sometimes in the summer. I surf some mornings and weekends, but I’m not a big swimmer.”

  “Me neither, really.”

  “But it’s literally one third of your sport.”

  “Yeah. My worst leg. I lose a lot of time on the swim.”

  “Then we should do more swim training. There’s a pool not far from work, and there’s that one right over there.”

  “Why would I use the one over there?”

  He gives me a half smile. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll wake up one morning and find yourself in Bondi.”

  “Hmm.” I rise on my knees and shift a little closer. “Do you think I’d find myself wrapped around a certain someone?” I slide one leg across his thighs so I’m in my favourite Elliot themed seat—his lap.

  “God, I hope so,” he says, eyes darkening as his gaze drops to my lips, my breasts then back up again.

  “I think I’d like to get to the kissing part now,” I whisper, my hands on his muscular shoulders, my lips against his.

  He doesn’t respond with words, only action, shifting a little closer so his lips meet mine.

  I hum my pleasure, draping my arms around him as he pulls me close, hands on my back, almost crushing me against him. He makes me feel wanted; he makes me feel chosen, and when he pulls back and runs his fingers through my hair, the look in his eyes makes me feel beautiful.

  “Where did you come from?” he whispers, like he’s amazed I even exist.

  “Western Sydney,” I say, pushing off his lap. “Somewhere a city boy like you wouldn’t dream of visiting.”

  “My Mum lives in Parramatta,” he offers.

  “Mate, unless you pass Blacktown, it doesn’t count.”

  “Well then, consider me schooled.”

  Standing, I brush off the back of my dress then hold my hand out to him. “You lured me here with the promise of market browsing. But I’d like you to show me around your town.”

  “OK,” he says, allowing me to pull him to standing. “But I’ll need one of these for the road.”

  He leans in, his hand cupping the back of my head as he kisses me deeply. I like the size of his hand as it cradles me; I like the decisiveness of his mouth as it takes control, and I like the gentle intrusion of his tongue as it bosses mine around. But most of all, I like kissing him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to enjoy this.

  * * *

  “A harbour cruise? Shit. That would have been awesome,” Elliot says, sitting with me on the rooftop of his favourite restaurant. It’s a little wood-fired pizza place that makes a mean mushroom and prosciutto slice with chilli oil drizzled on top.

  “It was. Nineties cover band, good food. I had a blast.”

  “What was the occasion?” He leans forwards and takes a big bite of pizza. I even like watching the way his jaw works when he chews.

  “That’s what I said too.” I pick a mushroom off the top of my slice and hold it midway to my mouth. “He said it was an apology gift. We kind of had a fight a few weeks back. Said some hurtful things to each other, and this was his way of saying sorry.” I pop the mushroom in my mouth and chew before continuing. “And it was good because I think we cleared the air on a few issues. Like how protective he is since the incident. Plus, I told him how things are going with you and me, explained that you understood what our friendship was like and you’re cool with it.”

  “I’m cool with it, am I? I sound like a great bloke.”

  I nudge him under the table with my foot. “You are though, right?”

  He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I am. I promised you I understood, and I do. No green-eyed monster here.” He releases my hand and picks up his beer, taking a drink. “Although, I’d like to hear more about how things are going with us. What was that part about?”

  I grin as I take a bite of my slice, making him wait until I finish the mouthful and take a drink before I answer. “I said we were more than just friends.”

  His brow shifts upward. “More than just friends,” he intones. “And how do we move past that? I mean, what comes after ‘more than friends’?”

  “Is that what you want? To be more than ‘more than friends’?” I ask carefully.

  He adjusts in his seat and tilts his head a little. “Well, yeah. I think that’s where this is headed. Don’t you?”

  “I hope so.”

  “OK. So that would make me your boy-friend?” He enunciates each syllable carefully.

  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face if someone paid me to. “I think I’d like that.”

  “OK.” He nods, seeming relieved. “Then it’s settled. We’re dating now. Exclusively.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Fourteen

  “Who’s Evan?” Tom asks, grabbing my phone before I can respond to the text alert.

  “Give that back!”

  He holds it above his head, out of my reach as he reads the text out loud. “Miss you already. Spend the whole weekend next time. Kiss face emoji.” He makes a fake vomit sound. “You can tell you haven’t let him in your pants yet or it’
d be an eggplant and water drops.”

  “What’s an eggplant and water drops mean?” Mum asks, walking in the lounge room at exactly the wrong moment.

  “Don’t tell her,” I warn him, snatching my phone back and sticking it in my pocket. Big brothers really suck sometimes.

  He gets this evil glint in his brown eyes and I know this won’t end well. “An ejaculating penis, Mum,” he says, before looking at me and adding, “What? She’s a big girl. She knows what sex is.”

  “How else do you think you two got here,” Mum says, placing her hands on her hips. “And I’ve done it more than twice. Why, just last week when both of you were out, your father came home and—”

  “Stop!” I cover my mouth and giggle. “I so don’t want to know.”

  “Well, I’d like to know why some boy is sending you eggplants. Who is this Evan person?”

  Tom holds onto his side, cackling until I nudge him with my foot and he falls off the couch with a thud. “Grow up,” I say. “You’re almost thirty.”

  “I’m twenty-eight,” he counters.

  “Close enough.” He pulls a face as he gets up and leaves the room.

  Mum places her hands on her hips and eyes me. “I’m waiting.”

  “He didn’t send an eggplant, Mum. He sent a kissy face.” I show her the notification on my phone.

  “Oh, well, that’s sweet, isn’t it? Who is this boy?”

  “Man, Mum. He’s not a boy. And he’s from work.”

  With an interested spark in her eye, she sits down beside me. “What does he do? How did this happen? And why don’t I already know about it?”

  Shaking my head with an amused smile, I count the answers off on my fingers. “He’s a junior solicitor. We’ve been exercising together at lunch. And you don’t know about it because we literally only made it official earlier today.”

  “That’s who you were with today? The boy you train with at lunch?”

  “Yes,” I say. “It was kind of our first date.”