Me: Are you spying on me?
The message flicks from delivered to read almost immediately. Then the dots start dancing to let me know he’s replying.
Flynn: No
It’s a simple answer, but for some reason my stomach flips when the word appears on my screen. Huffing out my breath, I purse my lips and start tapping my thumbs in reply.
Me: Then how the hell do you know?
Flynn: The box was on your table
Me: You were in my house?
Flynn: Maybe
Me: WTH?!?!
Flynn: Relax. Shane told me you’re using it.
Me: Shane is an arsehole.
Flynn: He speaks highly of you
Me: He doesn’t talk about you at all.
The dots dance a little longer this time, and I wonder if he’s writing and erasing or about to send me an essay.
Flynn: I messaged to find out if you want another surfing lesson this Sunday?
Me: I have a boyfriend, Flynn.
Flynn: I don’t recall asking you to fuck
His quick reply shocks me to the point that I gasp, my body heating all over, causing my annoyance to set in. He needs to take the hint and back off.
Me: I think you should lose my number.
Taking a deep breath as I wait for it to say ‘delivered’, I notice the word click over to ‘read’ straight away. Then I stand there waiting for some sort of smartarse response.
It doesn't come.
“Texting your new boyfriend?” Dakota asks from the doorway, causing me to practically jump out of my skin.
Grabbing my bag out of my locker, I quickly tuck my phone inside, feeling guilty even though I wasn't doing anything wrong. Then I look up at Dakota and smile. “You know Riley is the only man in my life. That little boy has my heart.”
“He thinks you're pretty great too.” She grins, and I can see the love for her son all over her face. “Actually, I'm glad I caught you before you left. I thought we could set up a time to go over the details of Coral and Shane’s going-away party. Do you want to host it here? We can put on a buffet and drinks. Maybe get a band.”
The idea of Coral leaving hits me with a pang against the front of my chest. I’ve been so busy focusing on my love life that I’ve been ignoring the fact that her departure date is creeping up on us. She told me last night that she and Shane had booked their plane tickets.
“That sounds perfect.” I try to smile.
“I’ll put a booking in for the weekend before they leave. When do you want to sit down to go over the menu?”
“Uhh....” I pull my jacket from my locker and slide my arms in the sleeves.
“Next Sunday before your shift?”
“Sure. Whatever works.”
“Sunday’s good. It’ll give us time to think about the guest list. Will you be bringing that new man of yours? I’d love to meet him.”
“I hope so.”
She nods, then reaches out and squeezes my arm. “I'm happy for you, Ruby. See you tomorrow night.”
The moment she leaves, I pull out my phone, fumbling it between my fingers to check if Flynn has responded to my demand.
No message.
I don't even want to think about why that bothers me.
11
“GOING OUT WITH Joel?” Coral asks as I collect my bag and wrap a scarf around my neck. The nights are getting colder as autumn draws to a close and winter puffs its icy breath over the outdoors. In the mornings, the grass is crisp with frost and it crunches under your feet when you walk. It’s something I remember doing as a child, laughing while holding my dad’s hand. In that memory, it feels like I was adored by him. Such a shame that wasn’t enough to keep him around.
“I am. He’s cooking me dinner at his place.”
“Wow, I won’t wait up. Hope you’re wearing your lacy blacks.”
I grin. “My lacy pink, actually. I bought something a little more demure thinking it might be more Joel’s style.”
Something flickers in her eyes that she decides to hide from my view by looking down at the phone she’s holding in her hands. “Well, have fun, then.” Her words are dismissive. I can tell there’s something playing on her mind.
“What was that look?” I ask, not wanting to argue but unable to help myself. As much as I know that my choices are all my own, I also want my best friend’s approval. It’s a bit of a catch-22.
“It was nothing.” She smiles. “Go have fun.”
“It was something.” I move to sit on the couch beside her. “You have something against my choice of underwear?”
She puts down her phone and blows air out her nose. “It’s not your choice of underwear, Rubes. It’s the reason behind it.”
“Because I think Joel would prefer pink over black?”
“Yes. Joel should just be happy that you choose to let him see your underwear. Your choice should be based on what makes you feel good and should have absolutely nothing to do with what you think he would prefer.”
“You make me sound like I'm not being genuine.”
“Well, are you?”
A tightness forms at the base of my throat and I have to swallow before I respond. “Yes. This is who I am now.”
“OK.” Her lips are curving upward, but there’s no smile in her eyes. “Have a great time, then.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
Standing, I lift my bag onto my shoulder and release my breath, not wanting to leave with us being tetchy with each other. “I’ll see you this weekend?” I ask, lightening my tone.
I notice her whole demeanour soften. “Maybe we can see a movie on Saturday. Shane’s off with the boys doing some death-defying stunts.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They’re going shark diving at the aquarium. He wanted me to do it with him, but since I don’t have a death wish, I’m going to pass.”
“Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know. I think Shane is just trying to do everything he always wanted to do before we leave.”
“Can you watch the dive from inside the aquarium?”
“Yeah. From those big curved glass tunnels that go through the tank.”
“Watching would be cool. I could go with you if you need someone to hold your hand,” I offer.
She shrugs. “I don’t even know if I can handle that much. Maybe a movie to keep my mind off it will be better. But I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
Walking back over to her, I lean down and give her a hug. “I love you, you know.”
She squeezes me back and I hear her voice muffle against my shoulder. “I know. Tell Joel I said hi, but don’t tell him I hope he’ll like your new knickers. He probably won’t like that.”
With a laugh, I leave the house, a bounce in my step. Joel and I have been dating for a little over a month now and this is the first time I’ve been invited to his place. Every girl knows what that means—if a guy is willing to cook for you and tidy his place in preparation of your arrival, he’s after sex.
I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not relieved; it’s been a while for me, and a month’s worth of waiting is about all I can take. I need me some lovin’.
Stopping off at the bottle shop near my house, I stand in the wine section, wondering if I should take a red or a white with me. I’m not sure what we’re eating and try to decide whether I want red for the warmth or a white for something more refreshing.
With my finger on my chin, I wage an internal debate over the virtues of both.
“I’m more of a vodka drinker, myself.”
Flynn.
How the hell does this guy keep creeping up on me?
Looking up, I take in everything about him until I find his face towering above mine. As usual, he’s standing with his arms folded across his chest. I swear he does it because he knows it makes his muscles pop out more and accentuates the size of his chest. He’s wearing a grey T-shirt and a pair of torn jeans, his hair scruffy and his fa
ce at least a day unshaven. On his feet, a pair of thongs.
“You look like a vagrant. I can’t believe they let you in here.”
He chuckles in response. “And you... you look cold. Seen any snow lately?” He reaches out and taps the edge of the scarf that’s wrapped around my neck.
“It’s nearly winter. I am cold. What’s with you walking around like it’s summer?”
He shrugs. “I run hot, I suppose.”
“Lucky you.” I return to my wine selection before turning straight back to him. “Exactly why are you here talking to me?”
“I was passing by and saw you enter. Thought I’d come and say hi. I would’ve called, but I was told to lose your number.” He shrugs.
“So you thought stalking me was a better plan?”
“I live just around the corner,” he points out.
I remember him mentioning that he lives near me and nod, reaching out to pick up a random bottle, attempting to refocus on the task at hand. “Well, feel free to go back home, or to parkour your way into somebody else’s life.”
“You don’t want that bottle.” Ignoring my dismissal, he takes the wine from my hand and places it back on the shelf, picking up a cabernet sauvignon from Margaret River instead. “This one drinks well with pretty much anything.”
I look down at the label, then back at him. He unsettles me.
“I thought you were into vodka.”
“I said it’s my preference, not the only thing I drink. You’re welcome.”
Tucking the bottle under my arm, I make my way to the sales counter.
“So, what’s the special occasion?” he asks when I’m done paying.
“Dinner at my boyfriend’s house,” I respond immediately, leaving the store.
He walks out with me, a step behind.
“Goodbye, Flynn,” I say, heading toward the bus stop.
“Where’s your car?”
I stop and turn to face him, squinting slightly as the setting sun gets in my eyes. “I don’t drive. There’s enough pollution on this planet without me adding to it.”
“What happens when you want to come home? Does your boyfriend drive you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, Flynn, but I’m not planning on coming home tonight.” I turn and start to walk away again, but he calls out after me.
“Are you coming diving tomorrow?”
Pausing, I let out a sigh, then turn around. “I don’t know. Coral isn’t keen on watching.”
“I didn’t take you for the kind of girl who just wants to sit and watch. Why don’t you come in and feed the sharks?”
“Feed them? Isn’t that just asking for your arm to get bitten off?”
With a soft rumble of a laugh, he shakes his head. “It isn’t cage diving with Great Whites. They’re grey nurse sharks—gentle giants. It’s perfectly safe. They have turtles and stingrays. It’ll be fun.”
I pause for a minute, the idea of being in the water with all of those ocean animals almost too tempting to pass up. Then I shake my head, deciding that tempting fate is a bad idea. “Anything with razor-sharp teeth is not safe.”
He grins. “So, that’s a yes?”
Biting my lip, fighting a smile, I continue to shake my head. “My bus is due soon. Thanks for the wine suggestion.” I hold the bottle up, then turn around and walk to the bus stop.
“We meet there at 9:00 a.m. if you change your mind.”
Waving over my shoulder, I keep walking, meeting the bus within seconds of my arrival. I take a seat and pull out my phone, pulling up information about this shark dive they’re all going on. It looks like it will be a lot of fun. Pity I’m not into doing anything dangerous anymore.
‘A quiet mind is able to hear intuition over fear.’ I like that quote. My takeaway from it is if I make all of my choices when I’m calm, then I’m more likely to make the right ones. Well, I’m calm now. I’m choosing to spend the night, and hopefully a very lazy Saturday morning, with my boyfriend.
***
“Something smells amazing,” I note when Joel opens the door to his home in Willoughby. I only had to walk about two hundred metres from the bus stop to the front door of his ground-floor apartment. The building has a red brick façade and these really quaint gardens on the outside.
“I’m not the best cook, but I try. Roast beef and vegetables. Hope that’s OK.”
“You know me, I eat anything.” I smile, rising up to kiss him hello and hand him the wine simultaneously.
“Hmmm, I’ve been looking forward to that,” he says when we part.
“The wine or the kiss.” I smile, clasping my hands behind my back as I look up at him.
He grins and drops a kiss on my nose. “Both.”
Moving inside, I take a quick look around. His décor is simple in the open-plan apartment, cream carpets and white walls keeping the combined lounge and dining open and airy. Light streams in through a large glass sliding door that leads to a small courtyard.
He heads to the galley kitchen, explaining that all that’s left to do is serve. When I offer to help, he shoos me out of the small space.
“Take a seat. You serve people all the time at work.”
He decants the wine I brought and sets it aside before he carves into beef that was already resting.
“I’m pretty impressed by your skills here,” I comment, resting with my hand under my chin as I watch. He’s even gone to the trouble of setting the table with flowers and candles.
I smile inwardly to myself. I am totally getting laid tonight. Even guys as nice as Joel don’t go to this much trouble just to send their girlfriends home after eating.
Feeling like a princess, I shift a little to the side when Joel places my dinner plate in front of me, then pours the wine.
“Hope you like it,” he says, taking the seat opposite.
The dinner conversation is filled with smiles and laughter as we discuss the days since we’ve seen each other and tell stories about our pasts.
Joel was raised in the lower Blue Mountains. He has wonderful stories about going camping with his friends on freezing-cold winter weekends. I’m in stitches when he describes the time his friend threw a can of baked beans directly into the fire—they had to run for cover before it exploded all over them. To me, his upbringing sounds idyllic.
“So, what made you decide to take up kick-boxing?” I ask, keeping the conversation centred mainly around him. I’ve still only told him snippets about my background. An absent father and a mother who didn’t really care what I did aren’t exactly the best dinner conversation. I prefer to keep it happy around Joel, focusing on only good things. He doesn’t need to see me as broken.
He shrugs. “I saw a movie and thought it was cool so I took it up. I actually have a tournament in a few weeks if you want to come and watch.”
“That sounds exciting. Where is it?”
“Up in Brisbane at the end of May.”
“What date? Coral and Shane are leaving at the end of May. Their going-away party is happening the night before and I don’t want to miss it.”
When we check our dates, they clash. “I can skip the tournament if you want me to be at the party with you,” he says immediately, warming my heart.
But I shake my head adamantly. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do that. You go. I’m totally cool going to the party stag. I’ll probably be a blubbering mess anyway, and you don’t need to see that.”
He lifts his eyebrows and sips his wine. “All the more reason to stay.”
Reaching across the table, I place my hands on his. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you even thought about skipping your tournament for me. But I’ll be OK. I want you to go up there and literally kick some arse. Then I’ll brag about you to everyone I know.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Positive. There’ll be plenty of parties and plenty of tournaments. We’ll both catch the next ones.”
The rest of the night goes smoo
thly. After dinner, we sit on his couch together, watch a movie and make out like teenagers. Things get hot and heavy. Hands touch the skin beneath clothing. We’re going further than we have before.
As I’m lying back with him on top of me, his lips move along my jawline toward my ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, kissing my neck, his hands making their way to my bra clasp.
Something inside me freezes up and I place my hands on his chest, pushing back. “Stop.”
He backs off straight away.
“I’m sorry.” Feeling out of breath as we sit up, my heart strains against my ribcage in a thunder of panicked beats. “I really want to do this, but....” I adjust my clothes, putting myself right again. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. When I got ready for tonight, having sex with Joel was in the forefront of my mind. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to, something I wanted. Why did I put a stop to it?
He strokes my hair with tender affection. “It’s OK, Ruby. Don’t apologise.”
How is he so understanding of this? He’s the perfect gentleman. Exactly what I wanted.
So what is wrong with me?
“I should probably go.” I move to stand, embarrassed by my own actions. I need to leave, go home and talk this through with Coral so I can understand where my own mind is at.
“You don’t have to. I’d actually really like it if you stayed.”
“No. I need to go. But thank you for a wonderful evening. You’re an excellent cook. Everything was perfect. I’m just....” I reach up and touch my head as if that’s supposed to explain everything.
He smiles and runs the backs of his fingers lightly over my cheeks. “You are the one who’s perfect. Give me a minute to get my keys and I’ll drive you back.”
He drives me home. Even walks me to my door and kisses me without the slightest hint of disappointment or annoyance in his actions. Then he leaves and I wave to him, thanking him for being so amazing. Because he is amazing. I should feel like the luckiest girl in the world because all my dreams are coming true before my eyes.
But I don’t.
Therein lies my problem.
A Beautiful Danger (Beautiful #7) Page 7
