by Eden Finley
“You had to Google it? Really? How have you never had a first date? You’re old.”
“Hey! I’m not that old. The six years between us is nothing compared to your dad and Reece …” He cleared his throat. “And I met my wife in high school, remember? No one dates in high school. You ask them out at lunch and you’re broken up by home time. At least, that’s what the deal usually was. You know, until her.”
“Did Google tell you that bringing up an ex on a first date is a big no-no? Because it totally is.”
He laughed. “It did, actually. Sorry. But do you really think we’re going to make it through tonight without mentioning my ex who’s marrying your dad?”
My smile faded. “Isn’t tonight about us and no one else? Aren’t I meant to decide whether you’re worth pissing off my dad or if you’re just an infatuation?”
“It is. Which is why I had to come up with a better idea after Google suggested I take you to a dinner and a movie. How cliché is that? I wanted to bring you here so I can show you that I’m willing to do something I don’t like”—he gestured around, referring to the beach—“for someone who might be worth it. I also Googled questions to ask if there’s a lull in the conversation.”
I couldn’t tell anymore if he was being serious or mocking me. “You’re such a nerd.” It wasn’t the best of comebacks, but it was all I had.
“So I’m old and a nerd? Shit, sounds like our first date isn’t going well already.”
I went to sit next to him on the blanket, but he put his hand up to stop me. “You stay on that side of the blanket with your sandy feet.”
Laughing, I humoured him, sitting on the farthest part of the picnic rug. “Okay, so what questions do you have for me?”
He let out a sigh. “Okay. Who was the biggest influence on your life?”
“Shit, straight into the deep stuff then, huh? Uh … I would say my dad, but apparently we’re not supposed to talk about him.”
“Two minutes in and already failing.” He laughed.
“What about you?”
He shrugged. “Hunter keeps me in line pretty good.”
“Neither of your parents …” I remembered what he’d said about his dad. “Your mum didn’t have an influence on you?”
“Nope. Hard to respect a woman who didn’t walk away from an abusive alcoholic. What kind of parent would subject their own child to that? She tried to keep Dad off me as much as possible, but she never had the guts to leave him.”
My heart lurched for him, and I wanted to reach out and console him, but I felt I shouldn’t. Plus, I was sandy. Wouldn’t want that. “I don’t think it’s as simple as that. A lot of battered people don’t know how to get out.”
“The only reason we escaped it was because he had a heart attack my senior year of high school and died. And she still fucking cried at his funeral.” He shook his head. “No. My mother wasn’t a big influence on me.”
Silence permeated the air between us as the breeze picked up, making me wrap my arms around myself.
“Do you still see your mother?”
He nodded. “She used to babysit Cody a lot—every Friday night so Reece and I could have one night off a week together to act like normal nineteen-year-olds. But when Reece and I split … well, we don’t see her much anymore. The last time I went and saw her was about six months ago, and it was only because she begged me to see Cody.”
“Why?”
“You mean aside from the fact that I turned out just like him and I blamed it all on her?”
“You didn’t …?”
“Who else was there to blame? He’s dead so I had to take it out on someone. I’m not saying I was right, just that my life was falling apart and I didn’t know how to handle it. Clearly, I didn’t handle it well.”
“Clearly.”
There was more silence after that.
A breeze off the ocean distracted me, bringing the scent of saltwater to my nose. I loved that smell. I associated it with my childhood; long days at the beach with Mum, Dad, and Danny—my older brother who now lived in America.
It amazed me how something so simple could bring memories flooding back. A simple scent.
In that moment, I realised Cole’s issues ran deep. He told me as much, but I figured he was dealing with it—he was still functioning, he was normal, and he didn’t seem to be the beast he believed he was. But if a simple smell can bring back my memories of a happy childhood, what would the scent of his father’s aftershave or even catching the smell of a particular whisky, do to him? Just the mention of his parents made him shut down. He has a lot of baggage, and anything could bring it to the surface.
“Google is full of shit,” he eventually muttered and then smiled. “Maybe I should’ve started with a lighter subject.”
Laughter bubbled out of me. “Ya think?”
“Are you hungry? I brought some food but figured we can buy fish ‘n’ chips for dinner from the shack over there.” He pointed to a little beachside restaurant.
“What did you bring?”
“Wait for it … you’re going to love it.” He reached for the cooler, bringing out a plate with several different cheeses on it and then pulled out a packet of crackers. “You told me to leave the cheese at home. So I couldn’t resist bringing some.”
“Now this is the kind of cheese I can get used to,” I said with a smile, immediately reaching for the cheese knife to cut off a slice of Camembert and putting it in my mouth. Closing my eyes, I let out an embarrassing moan. Cheese is the best invention ever.
When my eyes opened again, Cole was staring at me, his eyes alive with heat. He quickly averted his gaze and cleared his throat, his eyes finding the water.
I followed his gaze, watching the last of the people make their way in from the beach. The swimmers were long gone, but there were still a few surfers making their way in.
When I recognised one of the stragglers, the hair on my neck stood up, and panic etched its way into my chest.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I turned to face Cole, putting my back to the ocean and the wandering body of my ex-boyfriend.
Cole simply raised his eyebrow at me.
“You know how bringing up an ex on the first date is bad?” I asked. He nodded. “How bad is it if we run into one?”
His brow furrowed as he glanced over my shoulder at Hamish who was dragging his board up the sand.
I didn’t look back, hoping Hamish hadn’t spotted me.
“Blond guy?” Cole asked.
I nodded.
“Looks like you can’t hide, Shortcake, he’s heading this way. But follow my lead.” He stood and held out his hand to help me up, seemingly no longer worried about being close to my sandy feet. He pulled me into his arms and went to kiss me, but I stopped him.
“He knows my dad,” I whispered.
Cole’s eyes went wide in realisation, but then his pursed lips turned up into a smirk before he took my mouth anyway, cradling my head and pulling me close as his tongue danced with mine.
I’d almost completely lost myself, but then I heard his voice, totally ruining the moment and making my spine crawl. “Paige?”
I pulled away from Cole, but he kept his arms around me, hugging me from behind as I turned to face Hamish.
“Oh, hey, Ham.” So fake.
His eyes raked over me from head to toe, a small smile playing on his lips. “Hey, I’m Hamish,” he said, nodding to Cole and reaching out for him to shake his hand.
“Hunter,” Cole said, only removing his hand from me to briefly shake Hamish’s before it was right back on my hip. I had to force myself not to laugh when Cole said Hunter’s name.
“You’re looking good, Minor,” Hamish said. I always hated it when he called me by my last name. “You’ve lost some pudding.”
I narrowed my eyes and tried not to scowl. He was wanting me to react; he wanted to affect me. He knew I’d never talk back—I never did that with him, but he loved making me feel small. Any ti
me I’d shrink back into myself, look down at my feet, or show any discomfort, he revelled in it. So I forced myself to keep eye contact.
Cole squeezed my hip in a reassuring gesture, as he remained calm and collected behind me.
“Dating an underwear model does that to a girl. I have to watch what I eat. Must be nice to just let go.” Cole gestured to Hamish in his wetsuit. Not that Hamish looked overweight or anything. In fact, I think he’d actually lost a bit of weight too. I wasn’t going to say that aloud, of course.
“You’re a … really?” Hamish looked to me to deliver his next barb. “Is that even a real job?”
“Only have to work a few days a week, and it pays all my bills and then some. And it means I get to spend all the time I want with my girl.” Cole tightened his grip on me.
“Uh … right. Well, umm, I should go. Minor, you should call me after you’re done having fun with your shiny toy and are ready for something serious.”
He went to walk off, but my mouth did something surprising. “Did you really just say that in front of my boyfriend? The boyfriend who doesn’t cheat on me?”
Hamish sighed. “I already told you, she came on to me.”
“And you just accidently fell into her vagina?” Cole asked.
“Whatever. I’m not going to explain myself again, and certainly not to an underwear model. It’s been over a year already.”
“Oh, the statute of limitations on cheating.” I tapped my chin in fake thought. “I’ve heard of that. You can’t be charged with the crime if it’s been over twelve months. I think we covered that at uni. Guess I should forgive you, then.”
Hamish walked off without another word, leaving me feeling triumphant for the first time ever in the whole time we’d known each other. I never would’ve talked back like that when we were together.
I turned in Cole’s arms to face him, raising up on my tiptoes to kiss him again, but he pulled back and shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Back to first date rules. That was just for show.”
I licked my lips and looked up at him through my lashes. And I may have shamelessly batted them a few times.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He lifted his head, staring out at the water again.
I huffed. “Fine.” I dropped my arms from his.
“What’s with his nickname, Minor?”
“It’s my last name.”
“Oh.”
“Good thinking with the Hunter cover, by the way.”
“Lucky he didn’t ask me to show him my abs or anything. He would’ve seen right through my lie.”
“I dunno, you could pass for an underwear model.” I ran my hands up his abs and across his chest, wishing the material of his shirt wasn’t in my way.
He pulled away from me and sat back on the picnic rug, bringing me with him to sit across from him again.
“The one time Hunter asked me to fill in for one of his co-workers, they had to Photoshop the crap out of me.”
“Wait … are you saying you’ve actually done modelling before?” I started giggling, finding the whole thing funny and strangely arousing. I’ve slept with a male model. Go me!
“Well, it’s not that funny, but yeah, once. They were desperate. And I’ll never do it again. It was horrible, I don’t know how Hunter does it. I may give him crap about his job, but he has the patience of a saint. ‘Stand here, turn this way, the lighting’s all wrong, wait here for twenty minutes in your underwear while we get ready.’ But it pays well, so I guess that’s how he brings himself to do it every day.”
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t give up your cabinetmaking job for a modelling career?”
“As much as I say I hate my job, it’s easy, it’s decent pay now I’m not an apprentice, and I barely have to talk to people. It’s not ideal, but whoever gets their dream job?”
I made a face. I didn’t mean to, but I could tell by his reaction that I must’ve winced.
“Your dream job is to be a lawyer, isn’t it?” He asked with a sad smile.
“I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. I mean, I’m sure when I was younger I wanted to be something stupid and unrealistic like a unicorn trainer, but I knew when I started high school what I was going to do once I graduated. It was always the plan. I hate that it’ll be long hours, but who knows, maybe I’ll go into a small practice and not have to work as hard as Dad. He’s always worked insane hours, but he tried to keep at least one weekend a month free to do stuff with us. I’d like to be able to take off work whenever I need and be there for my kids more than he was.”
Cole visibly stiffened, even though he tried to hide it. “So you want kids, then? That’s a definite in your future?”
I hesitated for a moment, my tongue refusing to cooperate with the rest of my mouth. “I don’t know what the correct answer is here.”
“There’s no correct answer, this is meant to be about telling the truth.”
“Yeah, but I can see you’re about to freak-the-fuck out. If I say, yes, I definitely want kids, that’ll probably scare you off considering I’m the first person you’ve even contemplated dating for over three years. I assume if you thought you’d never date again, you also assumed you were done with kids. If I say, yes, but if the right person came along who didn’t want kids, I think it’d be a sacrifice I’d be willing to make, you’ll turn around and tell me I’m too young to make that kind of decision, and then we’ll get in a fight about possible future kids that you don’t want and I’m forcing you to have. Kids is definitely not a first date topic.”
He smiled. “Google said that, too. I really suck at first dates, don’t I?”
“It’s your first one ever, I think I’ll let it slide.”
13
- COLE -
“Okay, so on a scale of one to ten, where are we sitting at on the salvageable scale?” I asked, throwing the blanket and esky into the back of my ute.
“It’s not that bad. Okay, it’s not great, but trust me, I’ve heard a lot worse stories from Sara. You wouldn’t believe some of the dates she’s been on.”
“Really?”
“She actually had a guy answer his phone during their coffee date—”
I drop my mouth open in shock horror. “He didn’t?”
“You didn’t let me finish. He answers the phone, there’s some screaming woman on the other end of the line asking where he is, and he said he was with his sister! Turns out he was married.”
“Okay, yeah, that’s pretty bad.”
“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Maybe I can save what’s left of our night with some dinner?”
She stood awkwardly next to the passenger side of the ute, her arm across her stomach like she was in pain. “Uh, I think I ate too much of that cheese. I’m not really hungry. I’m not feeling too good at all, actually.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. I didn’t even get any of the Camembert. I’ll remember to bring a whole wheel next time.” My smile faded when I noticed she wasn’t looking too hot, either. “Are you okay?” Her skin was paling by the second. “You’re looking kind of pale.”
She nodded, but her eyes glazed over as if she wasn’t really there.
“Paige?”
I took a step forwards, regretting it immediately when she bent forwards and started spewing. Everywhere.
“That’s okay, I didn’t like those shoes anyway.” I stiffened and looked back towards the water and the beach. The smell alone was making me want to dry heave, so I didn’t want to see what was at my feet. If I started vomiting as well, it wouldn’t have helped the situation.
I’d never been good with vomit. Blood, guts, gore, that kind of thing I could handle, but puke? Ugh, just the thought of it made me queasy.
She was still bent over spewing her guts up, holding onto the bonnet of the car when I finally managed to calm my own stomach. I walked behind her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.
“Just when you thought this date couldn’t get any worse,” she
muttered between sniffling and trying to catch her breath.
“Are you okay? I mean … I know that’s a stupid question, but do you feel better now you’ve thrown up?”
She nodded, still hunched over. “Yeah. I do, actually.” She went to stand straighter, but as soon as she did, she was back to vomiting again.
All I could smell was cheese. Breathing in through my mouth, I kept chanting in my head, Don’t vomit, don’t vomit, don’t vomit, while I kept rubbing her back.
“We should get you home. Do you think you’ll be able to sit in the car?”
With her hands on her knees, her breathing still deep and heavy, she didn’t answer me, just nodded her head and stood. She took one more deep breath in and then stepped over the impressively large puddle of vomit at our feet.
Once she was settled in her seat, she put her head back and closed her eyes. I reached over her, buckled her in, and then made my way to the driver’s side.
Before I pulled out of the lot, her head snapped up, her eyes wide and her skin still a deathly shade of grey.
“You’re not going to vomit again, are you? Tell me if I need to pull over.”
“No. It’s just … we can’t go home to mine. I’ll need help getting inside.”
I didn’t even hesitate. I indicated right to go to my house instead of left towards hers.
“Maybe I can call Sara. I can stay at hers,” she said, her eyes closing again and her voice pained.
“It’s fine, you can stay with me. Are you sure you’re not going to—”
“Pull over,” she grunted, her hand flying to her mouth.
I quickly pulled into the shoulder lane and stopped, just in time for her to open the door and start heaving again.
I reached over and rubbed her back, not sure of what else to do.
When she was finally done again, she sat straighter and closed the door, her head lolling to one side as she rested it against the back of her seat. “I don’t want to go back to yours.” Her voice was raw.
