Gavin’s head joins in. “Are you two banging? ‘Cause if you’re not…” He leaves the end of the sentence hanging as he finally looks away from the TV to gauge my reaction.
“Don’t talk about her like that.” It’s an instruction and a warning.
Gavin raises his hands, signalling ‘no offence’. “It’s all right, mate. We’re just talking. Everyone can see you’ve got a thing for her. No one’s cuttin’ your grass.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want you talking about her at all.”
They both nod their understanding.
“Why don’t you get a beer, mate?” Brian suggests. “Come join us.”
“Sure,” I say, moving into the kitchen. “You guys want one too?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Shane laughs, and I can’t help but crack a smile. I know they were just being regular guys before. Paige is a beautiful woman, and I don’t blame them for appreciating what they see. But when she goes to great lengths to separate herself from any type of male advances, I have to think she’s got a damn good reason for it. I feel the need to shield her. Even when she’s not here.
Handing them their drinks when I return to the living room, I take a seat on the other couch, staring at the game on the TV, not really watching. I’m busy thinking about where Paige is. I wish she’d texted me to say she was going out. Fuck, who the hell do I think I am? It’s not like I own her or she owes me anything.
I kick myself for thinking like a douche. Paige doesn’t want me either. She says she doesn’t want anyone. But, fuck, I want her so bad it’s like a burning in my blood. And I feel sure she feels the same, that she’s just holding back because… fuck. I have no idea why she’s holding back. All I can do is guess it’s got something to do with her past, with the reason behind why she doesn’t like talking about herself, why she’s keeping all of us at an arm’s length.
If I have to go back to Sydney without having a single moment with Paige, I think it will be the biggest regret of my life. I need to find a way to get through to her. I don’t have time to play nice.
Paige
Naomi has dragged me to this salsa club she’s heard about and has been dying to try out. We've both put on our most flowing dresses, and I helped her curl her hair and pin it back to suit her outfit. I even went a little wild and put some red lipstick on myself—it was under slight duress. Naomi insisted I needed red lips to go with my black knee-length dress. Other than that, I just have mascara on.
Sitting at the bar, I watch Naomi strut her stuff on the dance floor with a guy who certainly knows his moves. He’s spinning and swinging her around the floor effortlessly, and I have to resist the urge to clap whenever they finish a song.
“Come and dance with me,” she asks breathlessly when she walks back towards me.
“Oh, I don’t know. I'm really not that coordinated.” I laugh. I haven’t danced in so long. I’m not sure I trust myself to keep the beat.
“Nonsense. Come with me and I’ll show you.” She grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool and shows me how to move my feet and swing my hips. I don’t do too badly, but I feel awkward next to the smooth moving Naomi, who went to a performing arts school and learned dance and music there.
The guy Naomi was dancing with, moves back over to cut into our lesson, and I happily step away, bumping straight into another guy who, when I turn around and see him, is the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.
A grin takes over his face as his eyes drag over my body. “Can I interest you in a dance,” he rumbles in a deep baritone.
The skin on my back tightens, pulling at my ribs as the little hairs on the back of my neck lift. I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’m not much of a dancer.” I don’t want you to touch me.
“Not from what I saw,” he responds holding out his hand for me to take. I look at it and step away from him, refusing his offer.
“I said no.” I practically yell it at him.
“Jesus. I was just being friendly.”
“Well, I don’t want to be your friend.”
The guy looks at me like I’m possibly insane then shakes his head before he moves on to some other pretty girl, who’s smiling and practically swooning the moment he holds his hand out to her. I go back to my still vacant bar stool, watching them move together. Now I wish I hadn’t agreed to this. I’m still not capable of dealing with advances without reacting badly. This is why I prefer to stay home.
Playing with my phone in my hand, I finger the touch screen. I can handle Elliot. But that’s because he isn’t always trying to get in my pants. He seems happy being my friend, and he doesn’t touch me unnecessarily. I really appreciate that. I wonder what he's doing right now? I feel lonely without him all of a sudden.
What u up to? I tap out and send before I have a chance to change my mind.
He responds quickly, like he had his phone in his hand and was waiting on me. Watching cricket with the guys. U?
I glance up as Naomi twirls with her hands above her head. Watching Naomi dance.
Y aren’t u dancing?
Pressing my lips together, I glance at Tall, Dark and Handsome. I don’t like strangers touching me, I send. Elliot is probably the one person I trust enough to say that to. I don’t know what it is about him, but he puts me at ease.
Want me to come get u?
Yes. Yes a thousand and one times. My reaction is instant, but my thumbs hover unmoving. I can’t exactly bail on Naomi.
“How’s Elliot?” I jolt my head up and cradle my phone guiltily in my lap. Naomi is standing in front of me, holding a bottle of beer and smiling. When the hell did she get there?
“How would I know?” I reply, feeling strange that she immediately jumped to that conclusion.
She tilts her head and looks at me like she can’t believe I think she’s that stupid. “Because you’ve been staring at your phone with a love struck smile on your face.”
I frown a little. “I wasn’t...”
She laughs. “You were. I don’t understand why you keep denying it. What’s holding you back? He’s only here for eight more weeks. Why aren’t you making wild monkey love with him every chance you get?”
“Because…” I can’t get the words out. “I-I just can’t.”
“Just can’t. What kind of a reason is that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I think he’s too good for me; maybe I don’t want to get my heart broken when he leaves; maybe I don’t want to ruin our friendship. There’s literally dozens of reasons why it’s a bad idea.”
“Reasons. Excuses. Why can’t you have an amazing couple of months together? Whether you keep him as a friend or if you take him as a lover, it’s going to end and you’re going to get hurt, and you’re going to miss him. No matter what you do here, you’ll lose him in eight weeks. Why not have the best eight weeks you can have? Even if that’s all it is? It’s better than doing nothing, watching him leave, and regretting it for the rest of your life.”
“But if he knew me, I mean really knew me. He wouldn’t want me. It’s the unattainable thing that’s making me attractive right now. He'll find someone else to turn his head eventually, and this will all be a moot point.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Naomi snatches my phone
“Hey! What are you doing?” I grab for my phone but she steps away, keeping it out of my reach as she types out a message.
“You’re welcome,” she says, handing me my phone before she smiles and heads back over to her dance partner. My phone beeps in my hand, and I look at the message on the screen.
I’ll b there in 10
“Fuck, Naomi.” Feeling nervous, I get up and head to the ladies' room to check my reflection, frowning when I see the painted lady looking back at me. This isn’t you anymore. Turning on the tap, I grab some paper towel out of the dispenser and wipe the lipstick off my face.
Looking at myself again, I take a deep breath. “Nothing changes,” I coach myself.
Elliot
I borrow Shane’s car and drive to the club to pick up Paige. She's waiting outside with Naomi, who’s leaning up against some guy. When they see me pull up, Naomi waves at me then nudges Paige towards the passenger-side door.
“Have fun!” she sing songs as Paige climbs in.
“Has Naomi hooked up?” I ask, once the doors shut. Naomi walks back inside the club entwined with that guy.
“Sure has. Thanks for coming to get me,” she says pulling on her seat belt.
“You rescued me, actually. I hate cricket,” I admit.
“Isn’t it blasphemy to say that?”
“It is. Don’t tell anyone.” I wink as I pull into the traffic and make my way through the streets.
“You want a coffee?” I ask when I spot an open café.
Paige looks to where I’m indicating. “Yeah, I do actually.”
We keep our eye out for a parking spot, finding one quickly and walking back to the café. It’s surprisingly busy, and we have to line up behind another four people to order.
“Don’t take this the wrong way; you look really beautiful tonight,” I say, nudging her lightly in the arm with my elbow.
She laughs, and I prepare for the coming lecture. I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn’t help myself. The woman is gorgeous, she should be told.
“Thank you, Elliot,” is all she says.
“Wait, what? Where’s the browbeating?”
She shrugs and smiles at me as we reach the front of the line. I order for both of us, and we sit at a table near the window while we wait.
“What made you agree to go to a salsa club if you didn’t want to dance?” I ask, watching her play with the packets of sugar on the table. She's reorganising them so they're lined up in their colour groups.
“I don’t know why,” she answers. “I hate clubs. I really do. All that gyrating against strangers.” She makes a face to illustrate her distaste before continuing. “I suppose I thought a salsa club would be different, and it was. It didn’t have the massive crowd, but it still had the gyrating, and the touching. So I was glad to leave. Thank you again for coming to get me.”
“It was my pleasure,” I say, placing my hand over hers to stop her fiddling with the sugars. “Relax.”
Quickly withdrawing her hand, she places it in her lap, her cheeks flush as she looks around the room nervously.
Feeling an emptiness in my palm where her hand was, I move the sugar to the side and watch her flit, curious as to her behaviour. “Paige, does it also bother you when I touch you?” I ask. I curb my need to touch her as much as possible because I can see she’s uncomfortable with closeness. But sometimes, touching her feels necessary. And we all need physical contact at times. Even if it’s just a comforting hand on our shoulder.
The flush on her face increases as she focuses her attention on me, meeting my eyes. “No,” she breathes, shaking her head lightly. “No, it’s just the opposite. That’s what bothers me most.”
Paige
Did I seriously just say that? Confusion passes over his face, before the realisation of what I admitted dawns on him. I’m so grateful when our coffees are brought over, our attentions diverted as we accept them and thank the server.
Now he’s watching me, his eyes boring through me as I take a shaky sip from my coffee. “Oh, fuck that’s hot!” I exclaim, almost spitting the scalding liquid back into my mug.
A smile plays on the edge of his lips as he watches me fiddle about with a napkin while I wipe my mouth and try to cool my tongue. “You need some water?”
“I’m fine.” I wave it off. “So um… Naomi’s a fantastic dancer. You should see the way she twirls around the dance floor. I’ll have to ask her if she gives lessons when I see her next,” I say, trying to salvage some sort of normal conversation.
“Paige,” Elliot says, reaching across the table and placing his hand over my own. My breath catches in my throat as I close my eyes to the feeling his touch evokes inside me. I’m aroused and frightened all at the same time.
“Elliot.” My fear wins out, and I try to pull my hand away. But, I’m met with resistance when he encloses his hand firmly over my own.
“Please don’t pull away,” he whispers.
With a shaky breath, I open my eyes, focusing on our combined hands. I catch myself thinking about what it would be like to give in to this attraction between us, to pretend I’m the girl he thinks I am, to simply go with the flow and be normal for a change. It’s so tempting, we’re halfway around the world, this doesn’t have to be forever… so tempting.
I place my other hand on top of his, my thumb caressing his skin as I meet his intense gaze. The attraction between us crackles and sparks through the air between us, numbing our senses to all that surrounds us. So tempting. Closing my eyes again, I inhale slowly to calm my rapid heart.
“Please, Elliot, just let go,” I whisper, a frown etched on my face as my words betray my feelings. The moment his hand retreats, I’m at a loss. The ache in my chest seems to slide down into my stomach and turn sour. “I’m sorry. It's not you.”
“I don’t need any speeches, Paige,” he says, unable to hide the hurt in his expression. “I know where we stand.”
“OK.” I attempt to fill the emptiness in my hands by wrapping them around my mug and taking careful sips.
“So…Naomi can salsa can she?” he asks, ending the silence before it becomes uncomfortable.
My gaze flicks to his, gratefulness filling my chest. “She can. She's really amazing. You should watch her sometime.” I want to hug him for letting that moment pass and speaking normally to me.
“She’s very musically talented. Have you heard her sing?”
“Only once when she didn’t know I was there,” I say. “She stopped as soon as she saw me.”
“Same. I wonder why she’s hiding it?”
I lift one shoulder. “We all have our reasons for hiding things from the world. Sometimes sharing is too painful.”
“I think hiding from pain and truth distorts it and gives it too much control.”
“What gave you that insight, Elliot? Because it was hard when Daddy refused to pay your way anymore?” I snap, immediately regretting my defensive attack. He doesn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” I close my eyes. “I’m sorry. That was cruel and unnecessary. I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s OK,” he says, keeping those calm blue eyes locked with mine. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first broken girl I’ve fallen for.”
Fallen for? “And you’re not the first rich boy trying to make his own way that I’ve fallen for. Which is why I know this would be a mistake. We’ll only hurt each other.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers.
“I’ll bet you said that to your last broken doll, too.” When his eyes flicker, I know I’m right. “It’s OK. He said it to me too.”
“Is he the one who made you like this? Did he break you?”
Twisting my coffee between my hands, I watch the dark brown froth cling to my mug. “Imagine me as a puppet, living a life to suit someone else’s needs. Then he came along and cut my strings, giving me one beautiful moment of freedom before I fell down, crashing and breaking, my pieces getting smaller and smaller as others came along and walked over the shards until I became nothing at all. Just a memory of a doll they once played with.” I suck in my breath. That's as direct as I can be.
“I don’t know if I understand.”
I press my lips together in a tight smile. “You weren’t meant to.”
Eleven
Elliot
That moment in the coffee shop keeps playing over and over in my mind. What did that guy—those people—do to her? I can only imagine something horrible, something most of us could never consider doing to another person. When I was dating Katrina, and she opened up about the beating she took at the hands of her ex, it tore me apart. I wanted to find the guy who hurt her and give him a taste of his own medicine. I feel that same urge now. To
go into Paige’s past and tear everything down that caused her an iota of pain. I want to fix it. Even though I know I can’t fix anything. All I can do is be here for her, test her barriers until they break, and show her that even the most broken dolls are still worthy of love.
You’re not the first rich boy trying to make his own way that I’ve fallen for.
Fallen for. That admission alone is enough to spur me on. But then I’m torn. I have a whisper of time to get close to her. And who's to say I won’t do even more damage when I leave? Maybe I should shelf this crazy notion I have where love conquers all, and I can make a difference to her life just by caring? It’s almost impossible to know what to do, and I find myself working back late to give her space and give me time to figure it out. But that’s the problem isn’t it? We don’t have time to figure anything out. I honestly don’t know what to do. These past few days have felt horribly lonely without our evening walk between the station and home. And that feeling is compounded when I get home to find her reading in her room, or out somewhere with Naomi. She’s avoiding me. I don’t want to avoid her. I just need time to get my head straight, but then I’m right back where I started—there isn’t enough time.
“Am I done for the day?” I ask Celsey, our American receptionist who arrived on her working visa not long after I did.
“If you don’t mind hanging around, I heard Jessica say she’s struggling today and wants to go home early,” she says, smiling brightly as she tucks her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ear to keep it from falling over her eyes. “Do you think you could take her last couple of clients?”
“Yeah, I can use the cash.”
“Can’t we all.” Celsey laughs as she taps at the keys on the computer in front of her. “OK. I’ve added her bookings to your schedule. You can let her know she’s free to leave.”
“Thanks, Celsey.” I turn to go find Jessica, figuring this couple of hours will give me the chance to decide what to do about Paige. Do I back right off? Or do I keep pushing? And which is the best for her?
Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet Page 51
