by Dale, Lindy
“That’s a bit incestuous.” I can’t resist the dig.
“Started out when Joel got kicked out by some girl he was seeing. Ended up that we kinda liked being housemates. It makes it easier to bounce ideas around in the middle of the night.”
“There’s this new fandangled invention called the telephone, you know.”
“Oh, smart mouth, Ariel,” Joel replies.
“My name is Sadie.”
“As if I’d forget,” Joel says, smiling at me. Gosh, his smile is gorgeous.
“Um, yes.” I swivel to face Nicholas. “Why are you here? I thought you were working? You told me you were working.”
“Meant to be. But we got side-tracked by this girl. We couldn’t get anything done because Joel’s been on about her all bloody day. He saw a bit more of her than is proper on a first date and it set his little heart racing. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Seems you’ve flirted with one too many men and been caught out, Sadie my love.”
“I have not! I mean, I did not!”
Nicholas’ eyebrow rises ever so slightly.
Okay. Maybe I did. But I would never purposely toy with two men at the same time. It’s not in my nature. I find it hard enough to flirt with one. “I didn’t do it intentionally.”
“It was a holiday fling. I understand. I can take rejection.”
“Especially if she’s blowing you off for me. We both know I’m the cute, irresistible one of this duo.” Joel smirks.
“Not full of yourself either,” I retort.
He cups a hand to my ear like he’s sharing a trade secret but talks in a voice the entire restaurant can hear. He’s a stirrer, this one. I can tell. “Nick was intending to jog up and down in front of your house until you came out. Then he was going to pretend it was a coincidence when he knocked you flying into the sand. He’s shy when it comes to women. He doesn’t have many good chat up lines.”
Nicholas reaches across to thump Joel on the upper arm. Joel returns the compliment. I giggle. It’s funny that they’re sparring and telling tales on each other like six-year-olds. It’s such boy stuff, not what I’m used to at all having lived with only Mum my entire life.
“At least I had the sense to buy the girl dinner, man. You watched her drown. What a loser.”
“Hey! I wasn’t drowning!” I cry.
“Not the way I heard it. Joel’s been known to stretch the truth though. You probably weren’t even naked.”
I feel myself flush. “That part’s true.”
“Damn. And I missed it.”
I shove my elbow into Nicholas’ ribs and he pulls me close again, my back towards his chest. He doesn’t seem shy, the way Joel describes him, but maybe that’s because I met him first. He wasn’t part of a team then or being someone’s wingman. All he had to do was be himself. And our meeting wasn’t about hooking up; it was about sympathy and friendship. At least I thought it was.
As Nicholas and I dance, Joel moves with us, his hips grazing my body every now and then. We undulate and writhe as if we’re one entity and it feels somehow natural that I am squashed, dancing between these two men. Two pelvises are pressing ever so subtly against mine. Two chests are brushing against me. Hands skim my sides but I’m not sure whom they belong to, because I’ve closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensations. My breathing escalates and my belly clenches in a type of anticipation I don’t think I’ve ever felt. I would never behave like this back in the city. Even if I’d been given the opportunity, I’d be too afraid of what people might say. I’m way too straight for this saucy behaviour.
But gosh, I’m enjoying it.
Behind me, I hear Nicholas in my ear. “I was so pissed off when I found it was you he’d seen in the buff, I threatened to punch his lights out. Couldn’t go through with it, though. He squeals like a girl. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”
In my other ear, Joel whispers, “Ignore him. He’s narky because I’ve seen you naked.”
And at this point I feel it’s time to clarify a few things. I take a step away because I need for them not to be touching me. I can’t think when they’re touching more. Or maybe I don’t want to think.
“Look, I’m glad you two had so much fun discussing my nakedness but I’m not some sort of prize. You can’t just come in here and dance all sexy like and think I’m up for it because you’ve seen my bum. I’m not some slutty chick who gives it out to anyone, you know.”
“We didn’t mean it to sound like that. Chill, Sadie. It was a joke.” Nicholas almost sounds contrite.
“And further more,” I say, my temper flaring just a little, “I’m not in the habit of prancing around starkers. Nobody was meant to see. If I’d known Joel was there I never would have done it.” I glare at them but I have a sneaking suspicion my admission has fallen on deaf ears. Possibly because they’re both laughing at me.
“She’s cute when she’s angry,” Joel remarks.
“Very.”
Oh puh-lease.
“I’m going to have my dinner,” I say and storm off in a huff. “And don’t follow me.”
*****
I get to my table and thank the waitress for saving it. I sit at the chair with a view out to the beach and take a deep breath and a huge gulp from the glass of water she’s poured me. I try to calm my ragged nerves and think clearly and rationally about what just happened. Though my brain appears to have suffered some sort of brain fade, I am abundantly clear on three things.
Joel and Nicholas know each other.
They are best friends.
I’m very attracted to them both, which is not good.
Though if I’m admitting stuff to myself the idea of having two boyfriends at the same time is rather hot. The logistics maybe not so much, I’d never get a minute’s peace, but the concept? Definitely hot. This is the stuff they make into romantic comedy movies. It would never happen in real life. Apart from the fact that it’s reprehensible and morally wrong there’s no way on earth they’d knowingly date me at the same time. Is there? Is that what the dance floor flirting was about? Are they wanting some little dating triangle thingy?
“Would you like something else to drink while you look at the menu?” The waitress totally interrupts my train of thought. Over her shoulder, I see Joel and Nicholas approaching the table. There’s a certain swagger about them, like a couple of lions out looking for trouble. They nod in my direction and say something to each other I can’t hear.
“Tequila,” I say, realising alcohol may be the only way to get through this evening. “Bring me the biggest frozen margarita you have.”
“The biggest one is designed for three people. It’s called a Fishbowl. It’s the equivalent of six regular drinks.” She raises an eyebrow in question.
“Perfect. And hurry.”
Determined I will not give them the satisfaction of acknowledging they’re there, I sit and twiddle my thumbs in a ladylike fashion, wishing my drink would arrive. I get out my phone and check my emails, finding of course that there are none, and then my horoscope — which I’ve never believed in but at least it makes me look busy. I contemplate taking a selfie but settle for a picture of the view, which I post to Instagram.
“Lonely?” Joel is towering over me. Seeing his face from this angle makes him appear even more attractive. His eyes are soooo brown. Intensely.
No! Stop looking at him. Ignore him, I think. Let them find another girl to tease.
“Not in the least. I’m quite busy, as you can see.” I waggle my phone in his direction.
“Facebooking? You can friend me if you like—”
Geez, I could punch him. Seriously.
“—Though talking in person is way more fun.”
“Mind if we join you?” Nicholas asks.
“If you have to.”
No! No! I didn’t say that. Did I?
Before I can utter I’ve made a mistake Nicholas sits himself on one side and Joel p
ulls up a chair on the other. My cosy table for one has become a table for three. They’ve even brought their own cutlery, probably pilfered from an empty table on the way past.
What am I going to do? I don’t think I have the strength to resist them both. In fact I know I don’t. I hate myself for this. I do. But I can’t say no. I’ve never been able to say no. I’m hopeless at letting people down. I think way too much about freakin’ feelings. Dammit.
The waitress brings me my drink. She notices that I have not only the company of Nicholas but also his extremely delightful sidekick. The expression on her face changes from pleasant to looking like she’d like to prick me with very long, very sharp pins. The vibe, as she slams my vase full of tequila in front of me, is icier than the drink. And twice as tart.
“You ready to order?” She looks from Nicholas to Joel and then me, obviously wondering how the hell I garnered the interest of not one but two such men. It’s a pity she doesn’t know the answer. I’m rather bemused about it myself.
“Enchiladas please. Beef,” I say, too scared to ask if they come with salad in case she shoves the menu up my nose.
Joel gives her a cheeky grin and she appears to melt a little in front of my eyes. At least it’s not only me. That charisma is seemingly unstoppable. “I’ll have the same, thanks. Extra cheese,” he says.
“Seafood burritos for me,” says Nicholas. “And a beer.”
“A pint?”
“Thanks.”
The waitress leaves, mumbling to herself and I stare at our tiny table. My fishbowl of alcohol, with three blue striped straws and a pink paper umbrella poking from the top, is taking up most of the space. I have no idea where we’re going to fit food and another drink the same size. Rather poor planning really. I groan, the size of my beverage suddenly overwhelming. “There’s no way I can drink this. I’ll be on my ear.”
Ignoring me, Joel chuckles, swiping the paper umbrella and tucking it behind my ear. “Cute.”
“Very,” Nicholas adds. “Do you want some help with your margarita before the other drinks arrive?”
“Or anything else?” Joel says. He waggles his eyebrows in a comic fashion.
I groan into my drink. The ice is beginning to melt and I take a long, slow sip letting the lemony tang linger for a minute in my mouth. This is dire. There’s not enough tequila in the world to dampen the feelings I’m having for these men. Both of them. At the same time.
Oh geez.
Chapter 5
I. So. Drunk. Am.
Yes, I am so drunk that my lips cannot string a sentence together in the proper order. And I don’t think the boys are much better. Not knowing them that well, it’s hard to tell, but if I were to go by the clues I’m getting — such as the uproarious laughter at everything I say even if it’s not funny and the schoolboy toilet humour — I’d say they’re hammered too. I can’t recall the last time I was this drunk but the giggling and hair flicking and general letting down of my hair are a good thing.
Definitely a good thing.
Despite my original misgivings, we’ve had a fun night. I’ve laughed at Joel’s jokes and felt myself flush at the subtle brand of flirting Nicholas is doing. Every time I glance in his direction, his eyes are on me, holding my gaze for a second longer than is necessary or he’s running his fingers through that mass of hair which sort of makes me want to as well. He’s definitely flirting. I’m not that out of it I can’t see the signs.
As the night progresses and the three of us get drunker, Joel stands and announces. “I’m going to stretch my legs. Anyone want anything while I’m up?”
I look fuzzily into the remains of our last margarita. “I think I’m okay. Maybe water?”
“And chips,” Nicholas adds. “I could eat the leg off a rag doll.”
“You just ate a huge plate of burritos and half my enchiladas.” I snort. “How the hell can you… what do you…”
God, I’m drunker than I realised. That thought has totally slipped from my head, mid-sentence.
Nicholas shrugs and smiles but doesn’t answer. We watch as Joel walks sloppily to the bar. He’s doing a funny jogging sort of walk that’s happy and jaunty and a little bit pissed. Everyone is staring but not in the he’s-so-sad-and-pathetic way. They’re as mesmerised as me. He’s utterly adorable.
“He could charm the knickers off a nun,” Nicholas says, his eyes on Joel, who’s making funny quips to other customers on his way to the loo.
“I’ve noticed.”
“You like Joel, huh?” Nicholas says as the toilet door closes and Joel disappears. His hands have appeared from under the table and are fiddling with his coaster.
Shit. This is awkward.
“Um yeah, he’s cool. But I like you too, Nicholas. I really do.”
“The way you like him?”
I know this is the alcohol talking but I can’t believe he’s being so frank. Men are not frank. They don’t blurt out their feelings after a couple of outings. Well, not the guys I know. You’d be lucky to know what most of them think after a decade.
“Yes. Definitely, the way I like Joel. I don’t know what it is but I feel like I’ve got a connection to you both.” My voice is uncertain. I can’t believe I’m opening up to him. Again. I want to ask him if he believes in love at first sight but I know he’ll think I’m crazy or try to explain this as some sort of chemical-hormonal reaction. Which it’s not. It’s nothing like that. “I can’t explain it.”
“And you don’t know who to choose?”
“I didn’t know there was a choice involved. Is there a choice?” Are we that deep into this already that I have to choose?
Nicholas leans across the table. His face looks more sombre than it did a second ago. I don’t know how that happened but my eyes are having trouble focussing so I guess it could be me. I sit still as he takes my face in his hands. The softness of his palms on my skin triggers something deep inside me. It’s warm and sensual and it’s spreading through my body like hot sauce over ice cream. It feels soooo good. I lean my cheek into his palm. I close my eyes and breathe him deeply into my lungs. He smells of beer and lemon and even though I hate beer it’s wildly erotic.
Suddenly, I am no longer drunk and neither is Nicholas. When I open my eyes he is gazing at me like I am the most perfect thing he has ever seen. The room around us disappears and I swallow in anticipation of what I hope is about to happen. He leans forward. His lips are almost on mine. The heat from his mouth is on mine. He’s studying my eyes.
Kiss me, I think. Geez, just freakin’ kiss me. I’m dying here.
“If you’re in the mood for choosing, I think you should choose me,” he whispers.
“Why?” I whisper back. As if I need a reason. The reason has his hands on my face. My heart is pounding, set to explode with some unexplained feeling I’ve never felt. I don’t understand it. I can’t understand it.
“Because.”
And then his lips are touching mine. His tongue is in my mouth, coaxing me into submission, giving me every reason I need. The kiss is long and slow. It’s tantalisingly perfect. It’s promising something I don’t think I knew existed before now. When we finally pull apart, I am breathless. Literally breathless. And very confused.
“I’m back. Miss me?”
Shit.
Joel’s interruption is so unexpected it makes me leap guiltily from my seat, bashing my knee into the leg of the table as I do. This, in turn, knocks over the remains of the margarita. I stare helplessly at the broken glass and the margarita dripping over my knees while Nicholas scrambles for napkins to wipe up the mess. His hands are shaking. He’s flustered too, like we’ve done something wrong. It’s so weird, as if we’ve cheated on Joel. I don’t know why I feel this way. We’re not in a relationship and I did meet Nicholas first. Yet, I still feel awful, like such a bitch.
“So, what’ve you two been up to?” Joel asks, as he flops into his chair, oblivious to the chaos around him. “We’ve reached the throwing drinks stage, h
ave we? I didn’t think we’d had that much.”
I open my mouth to answer but the room has begun to spin. It’s hot; I can’t focus on Joel’s face, I can’t make my lips say what they want to say. My ears are ringing and I can feel myself losing consciousness. Nicholas — or is it Joel — is calling my name. Then the most embarrassing moment occurs. I fall to the floor in a rather unladylike faint.
When I rouse, some time later, I appear to have attracted the attention of a few people. Okay. That’s not entirely true. The whole restaurant and bar are crowded round me, including a person who looks like a chef, a woman I don’t know who is taking my pulse and Nicholas and Joel who are kneeling on my other side. My head is thumping and the voices sound muffled and unintelligible.
“What happened?” I ask.
“You fainted.”
“Must have been the heat and the alcohol. You went a bit weak at the knees, that’s all.”
“Twice in one day,” Joel says. “I always knew chicks found me irresistible but this is ridiculous.”
I flash him an unamused smile. “In your dreams.”
“So you’re okay?”
“Yep. The fainting thing happens a lot in my family. We have low blood pressure. Guess I jumped up too quickly.” Which sounds sort of blasé, judging by the ruckus I appear to have caused. I close my eyes and cover them with my hand. This is soooo embarrassing. I wish they’d go away or be struck by a sudden bout of amnesia at the least. I wish I could turn back time for a few minutes and not fall on the floor. No, I wish the ground would swallow me alive. I mean, who faints at nothing? Me, I guess. I am such a girl.
Tentatively, I pull myself to a sitting position. The room has stopped spinning and I no longer feel like I’m on a merry-go-round so that’s good.
“Take it easy,” the woman says, as she gives me a matronly pat on the shoulder. “You might be concussed.”
“Did I bump my head?”
“No, but—”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing to worry about. Honestly.”
“At least let me listen to your heart. I’m a trained first aider.” She whips a medical kit from out of her handbag — I’m not going there as to the weirdness of that — and proceeds to pop a stethoscope onto my chest. “Sounds like everything’s back to normal,” she informs me.
