by Golland, KM
‘You crazy?’ he mockingly laughed, stealing it back from between my lips before I had a chance to completely consume it.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I stole another one and quickly shoved it in mouth. ‘You scared?’ I mumbled then nearly spat the chip out, instead opting to flap my hands in front of my face in an attempt to cool down the contents of my mouth. Fuck, that was hot.
‘No. I’m more concerned for you in what will be inevitable failure,’ he laughed, taking in my flappy idiocy.
‘Pfft,’ I responded, then shouted praise to my favourite player, Brent Stanton.
From out the corner of my eye, I noticed Derek shake his head with amused disapproval, so I deliberately kept my eyes focussed on the players and continued, ‘You know what? I think you are just a pussy and don’t like to lose.’
The siren sounded and both teams gathered in their respective circles, revving themselves up with last-minute game plans and advice before assuming their positions on the field. The crowd roared to life, and I sat up taller in my seat to gain a better view.
Derek leaned in and nuzzled my neck then whispered in my ear, ‘You said that all wrong, baby. Let me rephrase it for you ... I don’t lose and I like pussy, especially yours.’ He gently licked the side of my neck then pulled away, shouting, ‘Carn the pies!’ and leaving a cool sensitised trail behind.
***
After the game Derek drove me home, his demeanour relaxed and contentedly happy due to Collingwood winning by thirty-four points. He even attempted to cash in on the bet he never agreed to.
‘So, what do I get?’ he asked as we stood outside my house.
‘You get nothing,’ I exclaimed, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest as I rested my arse against the front guard of Suzi.
Derek was standing opposite me, leaning his arse against his blue Ford Ranger, his hands in his pockets and feet crossed at the ankles. ‘Bullshit! We had a wager.’
‘Noooo ... I offered a wager at the beginning of the game and you, being a pussy, didn’t take it.’
His sexy grin teased at the corners of his mouth. ‘Say pussy again. I like it when you say pussy.’
I smiled and even blushed. ‘Pussy.’
‘Say, “Derek, when I’m no longer surfing the crimson wave, I want you to lick my pussy and then fuck it hard.”’
Pushing off from Suzi and stalking toward him, I stopped when my chest brushed up against his. ‘Derek, next week when we meet up again, I will let you lick my pussy until your tongue hurts. And then, I will ride your cock until the cows come home,’ I whispered, before gently grazing his lips with my tongue.
As I walked toward my front door, he called out, ‘You don’t have cows.’
Raising my eyebrows suggestively, I answered, ‘Exactly.’
***
The following week at work was business as usual, the normal boring day in, day out, clock-torment crap I had to forever deal with. If it weren’t for the close friendships I had with the teachers, and if it weren’t for bearing witness to the hilarious shit that kids sometimes do and say, I would be — at best — a friggin’ nut case.
It was Friday afternoon and Lib, Brooke, Sally and I and a few of the other teachers were sitting around the tables in the staff room.
‘So, to tie up Emergency Education Month before the end of the term, I asked the kids a partial question and they had to fill in the blank,’ Lib said, obviously excited about the story she was telling. ‘Some of the answers were hilarious. Want to hear?’
Sally leaned over and grabbed a handful of M&M’s from the open packet which sat in the centre of the table. ‘Yeah, shoot.’
‘Okay, so I said, “Where there’s smoke there’s ...” and asked them to raise their hands with answers that I would then write down on the brainstorm board. Here are some of their responses: pollution, a smoker, a teepee, a cold morning, burnt toast, a bushfire and, of course, a fire.’
‘Burnt toast?’ Brooke laughed. ‘Oh my god, I love it.’
Lib was shaking her head with a smile that showed admiration for her kids. ‘I tell ya, trying to explain to Jet Bradley that our breath on a cold morning was not smoke was definitely a tough task.’
Trying to explain anything to Jet Bradley was a tough task. But before I could add to the conversation, my phone rang from within my handbag. I pulled it out to find Derek’s name on my screen.
Instantly, I stood up and went to walk away for privacy.
‘That wouldn’t be the sexy-arse firefighter who is “not” your fuck-friend, now would it?’ Brooke asked, a teasing smile on her face.
I glared at her and turned my back as I pushed through the double swinging doors and out of the room before hitting accept.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ I asked as calmly as I possibly could. For some reason, I couldn’t help sounding giddy whenever I bloody spoke or texted him.
‘Hey, gorgeous. Bad news,’ he said sullenly.
My stomach dropped and a sense of disappointment washed over me. We were due to meet up again tonight and, by the sound of his voice, that was not going to happen. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘No, not really. I, ah ... I have to go to Sydney for a while. It’s family related. I could be gone for a week or maybe two.’
‘Oh, when are you leaving?’
‘Now! I’m at the airport. It’s kind of urgent,’ he said with an apologetic tone.
I waited for him to perhaps fill me in on exactly what was so urgent, but he didn’t impart further. His reluctance to open up to me, yet again, was kind of devastating.
Sucking in a breath in order to sound nonchalant, I straightened my shoulders. ‘Well, I hope you sort whatever it is out. Let me know when you’re back, if you want to.’
‘Carly,’ he said firmly then paused, waiting for me to answer.
My shoulders lost their vigour and slumped. ‘Yes?’
‘Of course I want to. And I will, as soon as I touch down in Melbourne again. I have to leave. I have to do this.’
‘What is “this”, Derek?’ I questioned sadly, knowing he was keeping something from me, the unknown acting like a silent noose.
‘I can’t get into it right now. But I will, eventually. I promise.’
I took a moment to deliberate whether I believed him or not. I wanted to. REALLY wanted to. But he made it difficult when he so easily shut me out or left me in the dark. I was not the nocturnal type; I liked the light. I liked clarification.
‘Baby?’
Sighing, I answered. ‘Yeah?’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. And when I am, we have some unfinished business to see to.’
Sighing again, I was no longer sure whether that unfinished business would ever be resolved.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After ending my call with Derek, I was back in the realm of what-am-I-fucking-doing? A major part of me wanted to believe in him, have faith in him, and trust that what we had was real. But where my heart advocates, my mind guards, keeping me grounded, balanced and in control. I never let one dominate the other, and as much as I desperately wanted my heart to reign, I just could not bring myself to let that happen. I had to keep thinking that what Derek and I were embroiled in was fun and impetuous, and in no way serious. We were simply pleasure pals, fuck buddies — except we hadn’t yet got to the ‘fucking’ part.
To be honest, if it were any other time, I would look at this situation and be highly embarrassed. We’d been ‘not’ seeing each other for nearly three months and hadn’t even fucked. I mean, who did that? NOBODY!
‘I need a night out,’ I said to myself as I made my way back to the staff room. And I was going to drag Libby out with me whether she liked it or not.
Pushing the door open, I walked into the room. ‘Right! Opals ... tonight, who’s in?’
Brooke, Libby, Sally and George — known as Mr T to his grade six students (which makes me laugh because he is far from the boisterous man who is his namesake) — looked up.
‘I
’m in, sweetheart,’ George offered, eagerly.
‘You are too old. You are not invited,’ I said, poking my tongue out at him. ‘And anyway, something tells me that were you to accompany us tonight, Mrs T would have your balls for breakfast.’
George not so subtly covered his package with his hands in a show of protection. ‘Nobody is havin’ my balls for breakfast, especially Mrs T. She can have porridge.’
I laughed and shook my head at him, then proceeded to sit my butt on the table. ‘Brooke, Sally, you in?’
Lib stood up and took her coffee mug to the sink. ‘I can’t, Carls,’ she said with a sympathetic smile.
‘Lib, you don’t have a choice.’
She spun around, displaying astonishment. ‘Says who?’
‘Me,’ I answered, dismissing her constitutional right to decide for herself.
‘Yeah, I’m in,’ Sally said as she grabbed yet another handful of M&M’s. I gave her a warning look, which prompted her to frown at me, and then watched as she hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to put that handful of chocolate in her mouth.
Sally was mildly overweight, but was forever complaining about it and never doing anything to help her cause. She wasn’t dealt the lucky hand that I was and could not eat whatever she wanted and, because of that, appointed me as her make-me-lose-weight bitch. It was one of my jobs to ensure she didn’t eat foods that would go directly to her arse.
Quickly, and with a cheeky yet guilty smile, she shovelled them into her mouth.
‘Sal!’ I exclaimed.
‘I’ll work it off tonight on the dance floor, I promise.’
‘Oh, I know you will,’ I replied with a searing look that meant business.
‘It’s all right for you,’ she whined, ‘you can eat whatever you like and —’
Here we go again, blah, blah, blah-bibbity blah. I deliberately blocked out her you-suck-I’m-a-victim spiel. I’d heard it before.
‘Okay, we’ll taxi it from my joint,’ I added. ‘Brooke?’
‘I’ll let you know. I’ll have to see what Lance is doin’. If he’s busy then, yeah, I’m in.’
‘No probs. Text me later on.’ Pushing myself off the table, I picked up my handbag. ‘Okay, you ready, Lib?’ I asked, now full of excitement and adrenaline, ready for the girls’ night out ahead.
‘Wouldn’t matter even if I weren’t,’ she grumbled. ‘You’d leave without me.’
I shrugged my shoulders and winked at George. ‘You snooze, you lose.’
***
Lib and I were in the car and heading home shortly after I said I was leaving. There was no time to waste and no room for mucking around. I had a canvas that needed painting, and I intended on painting it with my newest pink lipstick and blush.
‘Why the urgency to go out?’ Lib asked from her position in the passenger seat next to me.
‘No urgency. I just want a night out with my friends,’ I replied, hiding my real reason with a kick-arse lie, my real reason being the resulting hurt and feeling of disappointment caused by Derek.
‘You seem to forget — even though I tell you all the time — that you are the world’s worst liar.’ Damn it.
Rolling my eyes, I chose to turn up the radio to block out her correct assessment. Lib, however, leaned forward and switched it off completely.
‘That was Derek on the phone, wasn’t it? What happened?’
‘Nothing. He just said he’s going away for a while, that’s all,’ I explained, attempting to appear unfazed.
She turned to face me. ‘That’s not all.’
‘What are you, a mentalist?’
‘Maybe?’ she smiled smugly.
I quickly glared at her then returned my attention to the road. ‘More like mental.’
‘So ... Derek said he had to leave for a while and that it was over, yeah?’ she asked with a tone that hinted she was baiting me.
‘No!’
‘Right ... so he said that he was leaving for an unknown stretch of time and that he wanted to try a long-distance relationship, but was not sure if it would work?’
I kept my stare straight ahead but narrowed my eyes and answered with a sneer. ‘No!’
‘Then what’s the problem?’ Libby groaned.
‘He said he had to go to Sydney for “family” issues,’ I snapped, emphasising the ‘family’ with one-handed quotation fingers. ‘He didn’t tell me any more.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ Lib repeated, her eyes bugging out of her head in a sarcastic and childish manner.
‘The part where he wouldn’t tell me any more.’
‘Maybe it’s personal, or he’s not even sure what that “any more” part is just yet. And maybe when he does, he’ll let you know.’
‘Or maybe he has a wife and kids up there and I’m his dirty little secret,’ I added like an insolent child.
‘Don’t be so fucking stupid, Carly,’ Libby growled.
I turned my head to face her, shocked by her sudden outburst. Libby rarely swore in anger at me. ‘Whoa! Geez, I didn’t know that my lovelife meant so much to you.’
‘Yeah, well it shouldn’t, because it obviously doesn’t mean that much to you. You are forever sabotaging your own chance at happiness. Finally, a guy comes along who appears to mesh with you ... a guy that you are clearly smitten with, and yet you refuse to stop playing this what-we-have-is-nothing game.’
‘I’m not playing games, Lib,’ I admonished quietly.
‘Then why are you building that wall of yours? For once, don’t. Don’t build it. Enter a relationship without the fucking wall.’
Glancing sideways at her yet again, I couldn’t believe how worked up she was over this. There had to be something else festering within her mind. ‘Now, how ‘bout you tell me what’s going on?’ I asked, turning the tables and hopefully prompting her to spill.
‘Nothing,’ she huffed, then instantly changed her mind. ‘Actually, I will. Here you are with a drop-dead gorgeous guy, and you choose to push him away. You do this ALL THE TIME. It’s not fair. Where’s my drop-dead gorgeous guy, the one that if he showed even the slightest bit of interest in me, like Derek shows you, I would certainly not push away?’
Feeling every kind of guilt, sadness and annoyance as a result of Libby’s confession, I decided to enter silence territory. Silence territory was a safe place to venture into when one wanted to eat one’s words. Apparently, Libby was word-hungry as well ... the rest of the drive home was uncommunicative.
***
Four hours later, Lib, Sal, Brooke and I were stepping through the doors of Opals, one of the nightclubs at City Towers. I’d texted Alexis to see if she wanted to head down from the penthouse and have some fun with us. She’d explained that she, Bryce and the kids were having a family games night, but would definitely be up for it next time.
Apparently, Brycealicious had kindly informed the club’s security guard that we were his VIP guests and, therefore, were escorted to a roped off section near the stage. Note to self: show Bryce some bicep-squeezing gratitude.
‘This is so awesome!’ Sal beamed. ‘How do you know the owner again? What’s his name ... Bryce?’
Sally was happily sipping on her Cosmopolitan, her brown wavy hair pinned into a sexy mess of curls on top of her head. She had on a black and gold-speckled off-the-shoulder top, complementing her black dress pants, and her make-up was subtle and classy.
‘He and my best friend Alexis are seeing each other. They live in the penthouse,’ I explained.
Her eyes widened. ‘No shit! Really?’
‘Really!’ I affirmed, before throwing back my Slippery Nipple shot.
‘Are you going to pace yourself tonight, Carls?’ Lib asked with a sceptical glare.
I smoothed down my black, sequined shift dress, which rested mid-thigh, deliberately focussing on the unnecessary smoothing when I answered. ‘Probably not.’
Just as I was about to scoop up my second shot, a masculine hand darted out of nowhere and swi
ped it from my grasp. Shocked, I watched as the contents of the small glass disappeared into the mouth of Will.
‘Mm ...’ he murmured with a boyish grin. ‘I love a good Slippery Nipple.’
I smiled brightly, happy to see him. I liked Will, he was good value. ‘It just so happens that I like Slippery Nipples as well. And now you owe me one.’
‘Carly, if it weren’t for Derek beating me to a pulp, I’d totally give you one,’ he smiled again, his rugged and unshaven face endearing.
Will had short, dark, tousled brown hair that housed a sparse but sexy hint of grey through it. His face was adorned with a light yet well-groomed beard and moustache, and his pouty lips rivalled Brad Pitt’s.
‘Sure,’ I drawled cynically while waving down our waiter. ‘I’m almost certain he wouldn’t give a flying fuck.’
‘Are you for real?’ he scoffed.
Shooting him a quick sideways glance, I nodded. ‘Well, yeah. He’s never once hinted we are anything more than just extra-special friends,’ I explained with a sprinkle of sarcasm as the waiter stopped next to me. ‘I’ll have four Slippery Nipples. What do you girls want?’
Up until that point, Lib, Brooke and Sal had been as quiet as mice and, as a result, I had only just realised that I hadn’t introduced them to Will.
‘Shit! Sorry! Will, these are my friends and work colleagues: Sally, Brooke and Labia,’ I playfully joked, gesturing toward Lib. Her face blushed a nice shade of salmon.
‘Labia,’ he questioned with a seductive smile toward Lib. ‘Doesn’t get any sweeter than that.’
Lib’s colouring went from salmon to tomato, which didn’t really do her whole ensemble much justice: redheads donning a complexion of pinks and reds was not a good mix. ‘It’s Lib or Elizabeth,’ she corrected while shooting me tiny Libby-daggers.
‘I think I like Labia better,’ Will said, his voice a little lower and suggestive this time around.
Lib then turned her visual daggers in the direction of Will, making him flinch.
‘Geez,’ he said in surrender, ‘Lib or Elizabeth it is. So what would your royal highness like to drink?’
‘Oh, please,’ Lib said with obvious irritation, ‘as if I haven’t heard that before.’ Ooh ... Labia likes Willy! This could be interesting. ‘And anyway, I’m quite capable of getting my own drink —’
