Towing the Line

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Towing the Line Page 8

by Nicola Marsh


  I wanted to say ‘I’m not crazy about you’ but I was done lying for the day. This weekend would end all too soon and we’d go back to our respective lives: him juggling responsibilities, me trying to forget. Everything.

  "We make the most of the time we have together." Sounded like such a simple solution when in fact it was anything but. Because for me, I had no intention of spending more weekends like this with Ash.

  Everything between us was so … intimate. In and out of the bedroom. I’d never had a physical connection with any guy that wasn’t transient and designed to make me forget for a few hours. With Ash, I wanted to remember everything we did in erotic detail.

  Then there was this: the handholding, the hugging, the city exploring, the talking. Real couple stuff. But the only real thing for us was our inevitable goodbye when I headed back to the US.

  "Does that mean you’ll respond to my texts?"

  I tapped him on the nose. "Only if you’re lucky."

  "I’m feeling very lucky." He leaned in to nuzzle my neck. "And about to get luckier if we head back to your place."

  "Cocky too." I playfully shoved him away, already half-standing.

  He left a few bills on the table and snagged my hand. "Let’s go make the most of our time together."

  I didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Chapter 17

  DANI

  Not surprising, I went out every night for the next two weeks after my weekend with Ash.

  I missed three deadlines, two study dates and an appointment to discuss my grades with a senior lecturer.

  Worse than my perpetual hangover was the fact I didn’t care.

  Ironic, I’d finally met a guy who could help me outrun my past but I’d stopped fleeing. I didn’t need Ash’s help. I didn’t need Ash. Much easier to self-sabotage and prove what I’d always known.

  I was a big fucking failure.

  Something that was categorically proved when I sorted through a stack of unopened mail and tore open an envelope from the uni. An envelope bearing the results of my first semester.

  I scanned the subjects and associated grades, and let the numbness wash over me.

  I’d barely passed two subjects. Out of six.

  I crumpled the paper into a ball and flung it at the trash. Yeah, like that would erase the evidence of exactly how much of a failure I was.

  Looked like I couldn’t do anything right. Relationships. Family. Study. I was hopeless at all of it.

  How the hell did I think for one minute I could leave my past behind? Leaving LA hadn’t done a damn thing for my new start. It was pretty obvious I could run to the ends of the earth and I’d be just as much of a loser there.

  Feeling sick to my stomach, I picked up my cell and scrolled through the contacts. So far, I’d sought oblivion in alcohol only, but seeing the cold, hard evidence of my new life in tatters meant I needed something more. The mindless nothingness that could only be achieved by chemical enhancement.

  I found Rick’s number and my thumb hovered over the call button. I had no idea why I was hesitating. I hadn’t in the past, when I could go for days trying to forget the mess I’d made of my life. I liked not thinking, not remembering, not blaming.

  Because for those few blissful hours when I was mentally floating in some euphoric place devoid of sorrow, I could almost believe I was normal. That I wasn’t some perpetual sad-case that craved attention so much I’d gone to extremes and killed my baby in the process.

  My laptop beeped at that moment, indicating an incoming Skype call.

  Could only be one person.

  Mia.

  I glanced between the screen and the cell in my hand, torn. Mia would take one look at my face and know I was a mess. Easier to shut down the laptop, call Rick and set about forgetting. Everything.

  But then I remembered what had driven me here in the first place. How I’d deliberately alienated my best friend and the only person in this world who truly cared about me. How much I’d hurt her. How I’d nearly ruined her first real relationship and ours in the process.

  I’d hit rock-bottom when I’d sabotaged Mia and Kye’s relationship and that had ultimately been the catalyst to start over here in Melbourne.

  And what was I doing? About to screw up all over again because I was in one of my classic downward spirals.

  The laptop screen beeped again, sounding more insistent this time and with a yell that was half-rage, half-frustration, I flung my cell onto the couch.

  Stabbing at the Skype button, I dragged the laptop toward me and settled into a saggy armchair as Mia’s face popped onto the screen.

  "Hey Dani. Did I screw up the time differences? Were you asleep? Sorry, I just had to chat and see how you’re doing."

  Typical Mia, her enthusiasm for life bubbling over so much she rambled. Made me realize how much I missed her. And how much I’d almost lost when I hurt her.

  "I wasn’t asleep." I forced a smile, hoping she couldn’t gauge my fragility from a million miles away. "How are you?"

  "Great. Really great." She glanced over her shoulder, at her dorm door in the background. "Kye’s just gone to get us some snacks while we study."

  She squealed and clapped her hands. "Can you believe he’s actually here? I’m so lucky."

  Yeah, she was. My eternally optimistic friend who only saw the good in people had met a guy who worshipped her. I envied her that. It’s one of the reasons I’d tried to fuck it up for her. Guess I was a jealous bitch as well as a loser.

  "Anyway, enough about me," she said, pointing at the screen. "Tell me about you."

  Hoping I could pull off the biggest con of the century, I shrugged. "Not much to tell. I’m studying hard. Seeing the touristy stuff in Melbourne. Meeting new people."

  Mia hesitated, and I knew why. She wanted to ask if I was dating, if there was a guy in my life. Because it’s what I’d done in the past, constantly boasting about my conquests. She’d hated it and deep down, I had too. Making myself out to be worse of a slut than I was hadn’t helped my self-esteem. It may have garnered me some attention but at what cost? My reputation had been shitty. And toward the end in LA, I’d done my utmost to live up to it.

  "Have you found a hot Aussie to rival Kye?"

  "Maybe." The word popped out before I could censure it. Damn.

  Mia leaned forward, peering into the screen. "Ooh, tell me more. What’s he like?"

  "He’s serious and determined and very cute. Works as a tutor at the university, but he’s an artist too," I said, the truth tumbling out in a rush. "We’ve hung out a few times. Had meals together. Toured the city. That kind of thing. And he’s the first guy I’ve really connected with, you know."

  Mia nodded. "I know, sweetie. And I’m so glad you’ve met someone. He sounds amazing."

  "He is."

  "But?" A tiny frown appeared between Mia’s brows.

  "But what?"

  Mia sighed. "I can see something’s drastically wrong, Dani. I’ve seen you look like this before."

  Increasingly defensive, I folded my arms. "When?"

  "After one of your all-night benders." Mia paused, glanced away, before pinning me with an accusatory stare. "You said you were starting afresh in Melbourne. That you weren’t going to get wasted anymore. What happened?"

  "Ashton happened," I murmured, wishing we were having this conversation face to face and not through a computer interface. "He’s too good for me. He’s dedicated and sweet and so focused he makes me look like a flake. Plus there’s no future for us as I’ll be leaving in a few months. So what’s the point?"

  She shook her head. "The point is, sounds like you’ve got a wonderful guy who likes you, so you’re reverting to type and doing your damndest to push him away."

  "Bullshit—"

  "You’ve run from emotional commitment your whole life, sweetie. You want attention but you’re terrified when you get it. I understand, I really do. But there comes a point when you need to make a stand for what you really want."
Mia touched the screen. "That time for you is now."

  I shook my head, tears blurring my eyes. "You know what I’m like. I’ll only fuck up his life and mine. I’m not dependable—"

  "Stop right there."

  I jumped, having never heard Mia use that tone with me before. She sounded seriously angry; and cold, like she had in the aftermath of when I’d made a play for Kye to hurt her.

  "You need to stop self-destructing out of guilt or you’ll end up crazy …" Mia paused, looked me straight in the eye, and said, " … or dead."

  Wow, my sweet, malleable friend had grown a backbone while I’d been away. And I liked it. She was saying the stuff I needed to hear. Because the way I was feeling now? And how close I’d come to calling Rick for a hit? I was in deep shit, in a place I’d vowed never to return to.

  In that moment, I wished I was back home, surrounded by the familiar, able to crawl into my own bed, pull the covers up and hide away for a week, just like I’d done after I’d miscarried.

  Seeing Mia, talking to her, only served to increase my homesickness and I swallowed the sobs that threatened to burst out of me in a loud, angry wail.

  "I’ve been partying hard with a crowd from university. No drugs though. Trying to forget how much I want to be with Ashton all the time. Trying to stop wanting him so much. And now I’m flunking on top of everything else …" I shook my head and took a deep breath, drowning in self-pity. "I feel like I’ve failed all over again. Failed at my do-over, my studies, everything."

  "You need to cut yourself some slack, sweetie," Mia said, her tone soft and understanding. "You’ve undertaken some massive changes and topped those off with a move to a new country. Give yourself a break."

  I was. That’s what letting Ash in had been about. He’d brought something into my life, an optimism, that had been missing for so long. But he’d done such a good job of making me feel whole again that I’d freaked and pushed him away, even if he didn’t know it yet.

  Maybe that’s what I should do. Show him the real me. The girl who partied hard and long, who lived life in the moment, who didn’t care about sucky grades.

  "I’ll be okay." I forced a bright smile, knowing Mia would see through it. "I knew first semester would be the toughest, adjusting to studying again. It’ll just take time to get on top of things."

  It all sounded so logical. Pity I hadn’t acknowledged the truth earlier.

  "College, sure. But what about Ashton? What are you going to do about him?"

  Fucked if I knew.

  Ashton would be perfect boyfriend material. And even though we’d deliberately spelled out our relationship as not boyfriend/girlfriend, that’s exactly how we behaved toward one another.

  But I didn’t want a boyfriend. I didn’t need a boyfriend. Now if only my susceptible heart could believe it.

  "We’ll continue to hang out occasionally."

  Mia’s eyes narrowed. "Isn’t that what you’re doing now? Doesn’t seem to be working out so well."

  "That’s because I’m an idiot, going against my initial plan to stay away from guys and falling for one regardless."

  Mia’s eyebrows shot up. "You’ve fallen for him?"

  I could deny it but what would be the point? Talking to Mia had calmed me down and prevented me from doing something monumentally dumb, like scoring from Rick. She’d always been my voice of reason and I needed her objectivity now more than ever.

  "Yeah, I like him. A lot."

  Mia mouthed ‘wow’.

  "I know, crazy, huh? Me, pining for a guy?" I twisted the end of my ponytail around my finger. "But I know this can’t go anywhere and I don’t want to end up hurting as bad as when I lost …"

  Not that I could compare breaking up with a boyfriend to losing my baby, but the only other time I’d become attached to someone so quickly was with the baby. And I was still grieving three years later.

  No way in hell I wanted to be pining after Ash when I went back to LA.

  Mia gnawed on her bottom lip, as if she didn’t want to speak, before she sat up straighter. "Have you ever thought of seeing someone to deal with your issues?"

  I shook my head. "I don’t do shrinks."

  "Grief counselor?"

  "You can’t grieve for someone you never had." I was a big, fat liar as well as a failure, because that’s exactly what I’d been doing for years.

  "Oh sweetie, this is me you’re talking to." She pressed her palm to the screen again. "I care about you and I don’t want to leave you when you’re like this."

  "I’m fine." If I forced this fake smile much longer, my face would set in rigor mortis. "Seriously. Seeing you made me a tad homesick, you know? And it’s that time of the month, so don’t mind me. You know I’m a survivor."

  A deep frown creased Mia’s brow. "Promise you’ll call or Skype me any time, day or night, if you need me?"

  I nodded. "Promise." Childish, but I crossed my fingers under the table.

  "Okay, I’ve got to go. Take care." Mia blew a kiss at the screen.

  "You too, babe." I quickly closed the laptop screen before I burst into tears.

  The only other time Mia had seen me cry was when I’d apologized for coming onto Kye and told her about the baby. If she saw me cry now, she’d know how truly on the edge I was.

  My gaze fell on the crumpled piece of paper, as tattered as my grades. Kye’s dad had called in favors to get me into Melbourne University at such short notice. Being a mega TV talk show host in Australia, he had friends everywhere apparently.

  What if one of those friends at the university let him know how bad I was failing? Would the news make its way back to Kye and Mia?

  Shit, I couldn’t risk it.

  Apart from being exceedingly ungrateful to screw up this chance, I had a constant niggling fear that if I couldn’t make it here, I couldn’t make it anywhere and I’d revert to my old life when I returned to the States.

  The old life I was semi-replicating already.

  I let loose a frustrated yell and snatched up my cell, deleting Rick from my contacts.

  If my shocking grades hadn’t been enough of a wake up call, the disappointment in Mia’s eyes when she’d seen my hung-over state gave me the kick in the ass I needed.

  I had to get back on track.

  Starting now.

  Chapter 18

  ASHTON

  I’d been deluding myself.

  All these weeks away from Dani I’d believed my self-talk. Almost. Stuff like we could keep this casual, that I’d be satisfied with the occasional text message or phone call, that we were friends.

  Bullshit. All of it.

  Because the fact was, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop wanting to be with her.

  That wasn’t a sign of a guy doing casual.

  That was a sign of a guy wanting way more.

  Which was crazy, considering how different we were. While my waking hours were consumed by work and Mum, Dani was indulging in the perfect uni life: lectures and assignments tempered with non-stop socializing.

  I’d heard on the grapevine she’d been hanging out with the party crowd every night. Admittedly, I’d been pissed off, before realizing just because I’d never had the time to socialize didn’t mean other students were the same.

  Dani was a bright, intelligent, attractive woman, with a killer Californian accent. Stood to reason she’d be at the heart of any party. And so she should be. She’d admitted to enjoying that lifestyle back home and dabbling here, only a matter of time before she felt comfortable enough here to hang out with the in-crowd.

  So I’d quashed my jealousy and let her have her space. I hadn’t contacted her much and to my annoyance, she’d done the same. Didn’t stop me wondering every second of every day what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

  Which brought me to tonight.

  As much as I hated the party lifestyle after I’d seen what it did to Mum, if I wanted to be a part of Dani’s life, I’d have to compromise.


  I’d showed her the parts of Melbourne I loved. Now it was time to do things her way.

  She walked into the pub at that moment and my heart twisted. Yeah, real casual. Not.

  I stood and her face lit up when she caught sight of me. Heads turned as she wound her way through the crowd, watching the tall blonde in tight denim and a pink T-shirt, and who could blame them.

  Dani was a knockout. And I wanted to make her all mine.

  Time to stop stuffing around. Tonight, I’d show her I could act my age and have fun like the rest of the crowd, and hopefully make her see I wanted more than friendship, despite everything I’d said to the contrary.

  "Hey, you." She kissed me on my cheek, a friendly greeting she’d give anyone and I tried not to let my disappointment show. "Long time no see."

  "Too long," I said, silently cursing when I sounded too flippant. "I missed you."

  "That’s sweet." She actually patted my hand as she sat on the stool next to me. "Beer?"

  I nodded. "Please." While inside, I was dying a slow death. No ‘I missed you too.’ No sign that we’d had mind-blowing sex, albeit weeks ago. No sign that she was interested in me as anything other than a friend.

  Had I left my run too late? Had Dani hooked up with someone else?

  "I didn’t think you were the pub crawl type," she said, dragging her gaze upward to meet my eyes, but not before I’d glimpsed her staring longingly at my mouth.

  Maybe all was not lost.

  "I’m not, but we haven’t hung out in ages and I know you’re into this, so here I am." I picked up the beer the waiter had just deposited and raised it. "Here’s to us."

  She hesitated and for one god-awful moment I thought she wouldn’t toast. "To us," she finally said, lightly clinking her beer bottle to mine.

  Damn, I had to play this right. Showing my feelings too soon could make her bolt, considering we hadn’t seen each other in a while. I needed to take things slow, work up to telling her the truth: that I was through doing the casual friendship thing and I wanted to date. For real.

 

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