A Beautiful Danger (Beautiful #7)

by Lilliana Anderson

Checking my call list, I let out my breath when I realise I didn’t call him at all. Perhaps that’s what he’s talking about? Then it hits me—I didn’t call him to see how his fight went.

  “No,” I groan, holding my face in my hands. I’m the worst girlfriend in the world.

  Quickly, I tap out a message and hope he doesn’t hate me when he gets home.

  Me: Party was OK. Also kind of sad, and I might have had a bit too much to drink. Can’t wait to see you xx

  I hit Send, then let my phone drop onto the bed beside me, my hands going to my face to shield me from the world. I am never drinking again.

  “You up?” Coral taps on my door and then cracks it open, leaning against my doorframe when she sees me awake.

  “I feel like death,” I moan.

  “Want to skip the thing at Paige and Elliot’s? I don’t mind.”

  Forcing myself to sit against my upholstered headboard, I grimace but shake my head. “No. I’m coming. I’m not skipping out on your last day just because I was stupid and drank too much.”

  “OK. Wait here and I’ll get you something for that head of yours.”

  She returns shortly after with a Berocca fizzing in water and two ibuprofen.

  “Ah, the trusty old hangover cure.”

  “There’s nothing better,” she says, sitting on the bed next to me. “You had me worried last night.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t ruin it for you, did I?”

  “No. Once we found out where you were, everything was fine.”

  “Where was I? The last thing I remember is Matairi playing that slow song. Then I went outside.”

  “Want me to catch you up?”

  “That depends on how bad I was.”

  She chuckles and pats my leg. “You had a bit too much to drink, so Flynn drove you home.”

  “I let Flynn drive me home?”

  She nods. “He called me so I didn't worry—and so I could get your bag. Then he sat up watching over you until I got back. He was sweet. And we had a good long talk. I really don't think he's quite the bad boy you think he is.”

  “Really? Well, someone changed my clothes.” I pull at my pyjamas to show her that he isn't that sweet.

  “I did. You had vomit on yours—which he cleaned off, by the way. You should stop giving him such a hard time. He's a nice guy, Ruby. Like, super nice.”

  “Joel is a nice guy, Coral. Flynn is....” I hesitate. “Actually, I don’t know what Flynn is anymore.”

  “He was incredibly good to you last night, despite the way you keep ragging on him.”

  Frowning, I try to remember any part of our interaction, but I can't recall a thing beyond snubbing him on the dance floor. So I respond with a shrug and a change of topic.

  “Where's Shane?”

  “He's out for one last surf with the guys before we go.”

  “What time do you have to be at the airport?”

  “Not until eight tonight. I’m about to get ready for brunch. You want the first shower?”

  I take her hand. “You go first this time. You can even use all the hot water if you feel like it. Consider it my going-away gift to you.”

  She laughs. “I’ll leave you some.”

  “Don’t stress over it. The way I’m feeling, I’ll need a bucket of iced water dropped over my head to get me moving.”

  ***

  Elliot and Paige’s house is in Bondi. It's this odd angled maze of a place that covers three storeys. Kids run around the backyard squealing and adults sit around a large outdoor setting nursing hangovers hidden behind sunglasses. I seriously feel as though every cell in my body is surrounded by a fog. Hangovers are the worst.

  “I made mimosas,” Paige says, bringing out a tray with a pitcher and glasses. “Hair of the dog for those who need it.” Paige doesn't drink herself, so she's the only fresh-faced person here. She works her way around the table, handing out glasses, pouring a little orange liquid in each, all with a smile on her face.

  The idea of drinking another drop of alcohol turns my stomach, but I know it will help so I don’t object and thank her instead.

  I suppress the urge to grimace when Paige’s oldest daughter, Grace, runs up to the table and shrieks when her father grabs her around the waist and blows a raspberry into her neck. It’s adorable. She’s adorable—the spitting image of her mother with dark curly hair and olive skin, and her father’s blue eyes. But my alcohol-damaged brain is incapable of hearing any loud noises right now, regardless of how cute the package is that they’re coming from.

  “Do you guys have everything packed and ready?” Paige asks.

  Coral, who’s sitting on Shane’s lap, finishes swallowing and nods, placing her glass on the table. “Everything is either sent over there already or packed and sitting by the front door. We’re ready to go.”

  “Make sure you give us your address when you settle in. Elliot and I can come and visit you when we’re there seeing my parents.”

  “How are things going with them?” Naomi asks. I haven’t heard Paige speak about her parents before. Based on the way Naomi is asking, I’m assuming there’s some sort of animosity. I wonder what the story is there.

  Paige tucks her mane of hair behind one ear and adjusts the way she sits, her eyes lowered for a moment before she answers. “Progressing.” It’s a single-word answer that holds a lot of meaning. She smiles and Naomi nods her understanding. Then Coral steers the topic back to the original point.

  “We’re actually thinking of finding a place in Waterloo since it’s easy for both of us to take the tube to work from there.”

  Those who lived in the Waterloo share house begin reminiscing their time overseas. My hungover mind can’t focus when I don’t understand the conversation, so I take a moment to look around the large backyard, taking in the fruit trees that line the back fence and the neatly tended flower beds surrounding the kids’ sandpit.

  They’re all sitting in there now, driving Tonka trucks and pouring sand over their feet. It surprises me that they have a sandpit when the beach is only fifteen minutes away, but then, they have a pool too....

  A flash of sunlight reflecting on the sliding door alerts everyone to a new guest. I have an idea who it is, but I hope it’s going to be David and Katrina with their little boy. But since they don’t really know Coral that well, I’m pretty sure I’m shit out of luck.

  “Flynn. You made it.” Shane smiles and holds out his hand for Flynn to shake.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch him move around the table to greet everyone, noting how happy everyone is to see him. I think I really am the only one with a problem with him. And honestly, even I’m starting to loosen my grip on my dogged need to cling to my first impression of him. But then his eyes meet mine and my stomach twists and turns, flipping about without my saying so. Instantly, my annoyance flares and I’m reminded why I keep shoving him back—he’s a spanner in my works.

  Flynn nods once, greeting me, his dark eyes clouded. My throat tightens a little. I’m suddenly afraid, especially of what happened last night. Did I say something stupid? Did I do something? Racking my brain, I try to remember what went on between us. All I can see are flashes but there’s nothing definitive, nothing that gives me any clue as to what that look was about.

  Breaking his gaze from mine, he moves back to the top of the table and speaks briefly with Shane and Coral. Then they all separate from the group and go inside.

  “What the hell is that about?” I ask out loud, my question directed at no one in particular.

  “He obviously wants to say something to them before they go,” Brad offers, pulling a grape off the fruit platter that takes up the middle of the table.

  “He hardly knows them. What could he possibly have to say?” I return, scowling slightly. Are they talking about me?

  Brad shrugs and eats his grapes.

  Curiosity gets the better of me and I stand to go in there.

  “Don't,” Brad warns me.

  “I just need
some water.”

  “Then wait until they're done.”

  “Why? I have every right to go in there. And what's with you being all friendly with him?”

  He shrugs. “We’re friends. He surfs with us.”

  “So he's part of the gang now? He’s never going away?” I'm sounding ridiculous but I keep going. “You of all people should be on my side, Brad.”

  “I am on your side, Ruby. Believe me.”

  “Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.”

  Turning, I head inside, pulling the door open quietly, catching the words “I hope you know what you're doing,” said by Shane when I step inside.

  “It’s what I need to do,” Flynn says, holding something in his hand that he pockets the moment he sees me. “Feeling better this morning?” he asks.

  I nod and point to the kitchen. “I'm just getting some water.”

  They all watch me walk into the next room and when I get back, Flynn is leaving.

  “He's going already?” I ask.

  Shane shrugs. “He's got shit to do.”

  Without thinking, I rush for the front door and call out to him before he gets to his car. “Flynn.”

  He stops and turns to face me, a half smile curving his lips. “Do you need something, Ruby?”

  “You're the one who drove me home last night. I don't really remember it, but Coral said you were helpful or something like that.” I mumble the last words, trying to act flippant because I still don’t want to change my mind about him.

  He chuckles slightly. “You're welcome.”

  “I didn't say thank you.”

  He laughs again, then opens his car door. “I'll see you around.”

  When he drives off, I watch his car until it hits the end of the street. Then to my surprise, I see Joel's Audi coming in the other direction.

  “You're here.” A confused smile plays on my lips as he gets out of the car and walks toward me. “Come to think of it, how did you know I was here?”

  “Coral told me. I called when you were in the shower, then drove here straight from the airport.”

  Rising on my tippy toes, I plant a kiss on his lips. “I missed you.”

  He grins. “I was hoping so.”

  “So, tell me how your fight went.”

  “It went.” He presses his lips together, the corner kicking up a little.

  “That bad?”

  Sliding his arm around my shoulders, he gives me a squeeze. “I’ve had worse. I’m just glad I get to spend a couple of days with my girl before I have to leave again.”

  “Responsibilities kind of get in the way, huh?”

  “It won’t be like this forever. Once I make partner, I won’t be doing so much grunt work.” He kisses me on the side of the head and I smile because I admire his ambition.

  “Then we just make the most of the time we have.”

  “That we do,” he says before nodding toward the house. “How about you introduce me to all these friends you keep telling me about? I’d like to put names to faces.”

  Taking him by the hand, I lead him through the house and into the backyard, introducing him to... well, my world, proud that he’s able to fit right in.

  Coral turns to me and smiles. She doesn’t need any words; I can read everything in her expression. She’s going to miss this.

  After that, I sit back, wishing time would move slower as we spend the rest of the day with friends, counting down the hours until the best of them leaves for good.

  I’m not ready to be alone.

  19

  THE NEXT MORNING, my heart’s heavy as I roll over into the warmth of Joel’s arms. He stayed to keep me company after Shane and Coral left. The apartment feels so empty without her, even though Joel is with me. It’s like she died, but she didn’t. She’s just gone. And while I can call her and talk to her, and even go and see her occasionally, things will never, ever be the same.

  I need a new roommate. But I don’t want a new roommate. No one can replace her. I now feel awful for every time I wished for my own space when Shane’s shit was everywhere. The whole apartment is half-empty—all except my room, of course.

  I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. I’m so incredibly tired. I slept on and off last night, my mind waking me up with confusing thoughts. This morning, my life just feels... wrong. I suppose I’ll get used it. I knew I couldn’t keep living with Coral forever, but I kind of hoped I’d be the one to leave first because Mr Perfect came along and swept me off my feet.

  “Morning.” A lazy grin spreads over Joel’s face as his brown eyes open and meet mine. “I kind of like waking up next to you. Glad you stayed in bed this time.”

  “Thanks for staying with me last night.” I lift my hand and run it down the side of his handsome face. “It means a lot that you were here.”

  “I'm just sorry it isn't for long. This deal might take longer than we thought. They say I'm going to be in Melbourne for at least a month. Maybe I can fly you down occasionally? They’re putting me up in these serviced apartments in Docklands.”

  “Or you could fly back up whenever you get a free weekend.” I’ve never been on a plane before. It used to be something on my bucket list, but now the only thing on that list is ‘stay safe’. Diving at the aquarium was the most insane thing I’ve done in a long time, and since I almost followed the Crocodile Hunter’s footsteps when that stingray came too close, I’m going to keep my adrenaline glands as underactive as I can.

  “That's definitely a possibility.” He grins and then leans in close, kissing me softly. “I really don't want to leave this bed.”

  I wrap my arms around his body, firm but soft. “Then stay.”

  He stretches out a long arm and lifts his watch from the nightstand, checking the time. Then he drops it with a clunk and groans. “I can't. I have to go home and pack then be in the office by nine and at the airport not long after that.”

  My hand slides lower suggestively. “Five minutes?”

  “What I have in mind will take way longer than five minutes.” He slips out of bed and out of my reach, planting another kiss on my lips at the same time.

  I pout and pull the sheets up to my neck.

  “I'm sorry,” he says, and I can tell by his tone that he truly means that. “Maybe I can fly back up next weekend. I'll see if I can wangle it.”

  I smile and get out of bed stark naked, walk toward him and plant a kiss on his cheek. “It's OK. I understand.”

  His hands grip my arse to stop me from pulling away, and there's a certain something between us that’s now standing to attention.

  “Fine. Five minutes, you vixen.”

  I giggle as we tumble back on the bed.

  ***

  When Joel leaves, I take the opportunity to have a long hot shower. It's the only benefit I can think of to having the place to myself again—I don’t have to feel guilty for using up all the hot water.

  While I’m in there, I think about my life and how I want it to be, repeating a few daily mantras to keep my head in the game. Joel is everything I want for myself. I should be turning cartwheels, not feeling all angst-ridden and nervous. It’s like I have to consciously keep my mind on him so it doesn’t wander to other terrifyingly exciting options. But no matter how hard I try, Flynn always enters my thoughts. I refuse to analyse why. I refuse to acknowledge what the flip that my stomach does in his presence means.

  I refuse.

  I shut off the shower, agitated, needing to change tracks before my thoughts send me somewhere I don't want to go.

  Wrapping myself in a purple robe, I twist a towel around my head, tucking my long hair inside before I walk out into the living area with a puff of steam in my wake. My plan was to make coffee and figure out how to keep my mind from wandering until it’s time for work.

  Instead, I'm stopped in my tracks, frozen when men walk in through the open front door carrying boxes and bedroom furniture.

  “What the hell is going on,” I demand.

&nb
sp; “Just put the boxes in the other room, fellas.”

  Flynn. The exact person I’m trying to keep from thinking about.

  “What the fuck is going on?” My voice is louder. But he stays calm, as always.

  “Isn't it obvious? I'm your new roommate.”

  20

  “GET OUT.” I point at the door. The movers exit the room and exchange looks before heading to the door.

  “Listen, we get paid whether this gets done or not,” one informs Flynn.

  “Just keep going,” he tells them. “It’s fine.”

  “No. It isn’t fine.”

  Flynn nods at them and their body language says something like ‘Sure, buddy, but it’s your funeral.’

  It sure will be.

  “What has possessed you to do this?” I demand. My hands are on my hips and my face is burning red with frustration.

  “You did, my angry little elf.” He glances at the towel that’s wound up on my head. I tear it off and throw it on the ground, my wet hair hanging in a tangle over my shoulder. He lets out a low whistle. “You are stunning.”

  Did he seriously just compliment me while I'm standing here in a robe with my hair a wet mess, pissed off at him? I shake away the confusion and focus on the situation. “At what point in any of our interactions did I indicate that I wanted you to move in?”

  “Saturday night.” He walks over to the table and takes an apple from the fruit bowl, polishing it on his shirt.

  “No. No. No.” I pull the apple from his hand before he can bite it and put it back. “There is no way I said that to you.”

  He shrugs. “You were drunk. You probably don’t remember.”

  “All the more reason to ignore anything I said!”

  The movers are back in the doorway, bringing in more boxes. Flynn waves them in and they scurry past like scared mice.

  “In my experience, people are at their most honest when they’ve been drinking. The alcohol just loosens the tongue.”

  “I don’t care how drunk I was. I did not ask you to move in with me.”

  “Then how did I get the keys?”

  My mouth drops open and for a moment, I question my sanity. Did I actually ask him to do this? Have I gone insane? “No.” I shake my head to clear it. “You probably stole them.”