“Your school must have been some kind of hell, then,” I say with a laugh.
“You have no idea.”
---
After an hour, Lily and I are sweating our butts off. It’s not that we’re any busier than usual for a Monday lunchtime, more the combination of the warmer temperature outside and the raging wood-fire oven. Lily’s done well with the phone orders today. Of course her language is much more proper than it was earlier this morning. Ha. I still can’t believe she attacked those bitches on my behalf. It feels good to have someone else in my corner. Been a little quiet there for a while.
I turn towards the back of the shop to find Dad washing his hands in the basin. Sweat beads cling to his brow, and from the slump of his narrow shoulders I can tell he’s tired. I keep telling him he’s getting old. When will he start believing me?
“Go take a break, Dad,” I order. I don’t ask because he’d just say no. I learnt that from my mother.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay, Peppi. Might ’ead down to Willow’s for an espresso. I’ll take my phone just in case.”
“No rush. Lily and I have got this,” I assure him.
He looks to Lily, who writes down an order and then says “Thanks, we’ll see you soon,” and hangs up the phone. She rips a page from the notepad and hands it to me. “We’ve got this, Mr Marone,” she says with a killer smile for him.
“I keep telling you, child. It’s Enzo,” he says and matches her grin. He collects his wallet and phone and strolls out the front door.
Ten minutes later, I’m surprised he’s not back. Is this a test?
Using the wooden peel I place a margarita pizza into the oven. I take out the order for Carter and slide it into a pizza box, and then cut it into eighths. Is it the Carter I’m thinking of?
Mack’s mum waltzes into the shop and walks up to the register. Her faded brown hair is tied up in a loose bun on top of her head and she’s wearing white overalls over the top of a navy shirt which fits tight around her well rounded hips and gumboots. I wonder how their business on the farm is going. More importantly, I need to know what on earth has happened to Mack.
“Can I help you?” Lily asks.
“Yes, order for Carter, please.”
“Mrs Carter. Hey,” I say, and wave to get her attention.
“Lacey. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
I swallow down my nerves. I don’t want to talk about me. “I’m good. How’s Mack?”
Her thin brows pull together. “You know what? She’s finally doing better. She had a rough time earlier this week, but I went down to see her. She has some great friends in Sydney. In fact, did you know she’s dating Byron Leckie, the professional surfer?” Mrs Carter says as she hands cash over to Lily.
Say what? Mack is dating Byron? Faith’s Byron?
“I heard that he was from around here,” Lily says, as she passes Mrs Carter her change. “I saw him on the cover of a surfing magazine.” My friend turns to me and mouths hot.
I clear my throat and turn to Mrs Carter. “I just hope she’s happy, you know?” That’s all I’ve ever wished for her. But dating Byron? How did that come about?
Mrs Carter walks towards the front of the shop. “I think she’s happy. That’s all a mother can hope for.”
“Please tell her I miss her, ’kay?” I leave the part out where I feel like slapping her silly for deserting me.
“I will.”
Then she’s gone.
I place my hand over my thumping heart. Mack’s with Byron. It’s kind of weird, considering we were all so close, but I guess it’s been a long time since Faith left us. Maybe they’ve been there for each other since it happened. They’ve supported one another. Even though it comes as a bit of a shock, I tell myself it’s a good thing. I’m happy for both of them. They’re good people, it’s just hard hearing the news from someone other than my BFF. I would have loved to share a giant bowl of popcorn with Mack over that conversation. Damn I miss her.
I use the peel to take one of the far pizzas out now that the crust is a dark golden brown. I shovel it onto a pizza box, slice it and tuck in the cardboard at the corners.
The front door chimes, but my back is to it. I look to the register to see Lily bright-eyed and ready to take another order.
“What can I get you?” Lily says.
“I’m here to see Peppi,” a male voice barks.
Who the hell comes in our shop calling me that in such a tone? Only a few get the privilege of calling me Peppi.
I swing my head around to see Mr Unreliable with his arms crossed, wearing a nasty scowl. Fuck.
What in the hell is Pete Fairfield doing here? I don’t see him for years and I run into him twice in so many days? And more to the point, why is the world throwing jerks at me today? It’s like the ghosts of my past have been stirred up by some cosmic storm. Are we due for a full moon? Seriously.
I tuck the corresponding docket into the pizza box and hand it to Lily to call out the customer’s name.
“What can I do for you, Pete?” I say in a polite tone, as I would to any customer.
“I need to talk to you. Alone,” he says, louder this time.
Oh no.
I take off my apron and nod in the direction of the end of the counter, where we might have a little privacy. Well, that’s if he keeps his voice down.
“I’m listening,” I say softly. If I yell, I’ll only aggravate him further. Whatever has his cheeks flushed and him huffing and puffing needs to be gotten off his chest.
“You broke my brother’s heart, you know.”
Huh? I did? When I’d left the morning after and I’d asked him to keep what happened between us, he’d basically ignored me and rolled over. That was the last I’d heard from him. I thought we had an understanding. I found out months later that he’d gone travelling. I had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Frankly, I didn’t care. I’d had other things to focus on and twenty-four hours of my life I’d wanted to forget.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea,” I say with a shrug.
“Well you wouldn’t, would you, because he basically packed up and went overseas and joined this bloody volunteer program. They’ve brainwashed him. He’s given up on his dream of playing representative soccer, thanks to you. He had such potential.”
“Is he okay?”
“No, he’s not. He’d crushed on you for years and you screwed him and screwed with his head. He still talks about you like you were the one that got away, how he should have told you how he felt. He’s still fucking hung up on you even though you treated him like dirt.”
The phone rings, the door chimes, and Lily calls my name as the register beeps repeatedly at her. Gah!
“That’s n-not how it happened.”
“That you, Pete?” a familiar voice says from behind us. Pete doesn’t budge, continuing to drill me with his penetrating gaze as if he wished he had lasers for eyes.
Oh my God. Kill me now.
Quade slips his arm around my waist, moving so that he can get a closer look at the man holding my attention. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention and acid rises up my throat. Pete’s stare hardens. Don’t do it, Pete.
“Hey bud, it is you,” Quade says, slapping him on the shoulder and then turning his blue eyes to me. “I’m here to tell you that you can cash in, Lace, and I’m also here to pick up lunch. Order under Kelly?”
Of course an order for a Peppi Special under the name Kelly would be him. Here I’d been thinking it was a girl named Kelly. Face-palm moment.
“Pizza’s ready,” Lily chimes.
“Does Quade know?” Pete asks, venom in his tone. Pete glances at Quade, glares at me, and then shifts his focus back to his friend.
Quade looks at me. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Does Quade know what?” Quade probes. “Fill me in, guys.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My heart sinks and air rushes from my lungs. Please d
on’t say anything, Pete. Please. Don’t.
“That she fucked my brother and pissed off the next morning?” Pete spits out. “She’s nothing but a slut.”
I gasp as I drag in a lungful of air. I rub at my eyes which are now screwed shut, pushing my fingers deep into the sockets. I’m having a nightmare. I’m sure of it.
My vision blurs for a few seconds after opening my eyes, and I’m met with two men having a silent standoff with their dominant stance and stonewall faces.
“You need to watch your mouth, Pete,” Quade says, jabbing his index finger into his friend’s shoulder.
“I speak the truth, brother. You need to know it before you stick your dick in this slut,” he says with a chin lift.
Air is sucked from my lungs as fire roars up my chest. How dare he call me that? That word … that’s not me. Not even close.
Quade pulls back a clenched fist. I wrap my hand around it, which sees him drop his hand to his side. I stand in front of Quade, dividing the two men as I drill Pete with a look as fiery as the pits of hell.
“How dare you come in here and say that?” I push at his chest with both hands. He stands his ground, not budging an inch. “Get the hell out!”
Pete looks to Quade, his eyes wide, challenging.
Quade grabs his elbow, his knuckles turning white with his tight grip. “Leave now, Pete, before I do something we can’t come back from,” Quade warns, his teeth gritted together.
Pete yanks his arm from Quade’s claws, rubbing at his elbow. “Yeah, I’m leaving.”
The door chimes and I let out a loud breath, grateful the arsehole is out of my shop.
“Slow down, son,” Dad’s voice echoes from the doorway. What timing. Well, at least he wasn’t around to hear his daughter being called a whore.
“Young Quade, ’ow are you?” Dad says, offering his hand to him. Quade shakes it with gusto as he takes in a deep breath.
“Good to see you again, Mr Marone,” he says, his voice much calmer than it was a moment ago.
“You too, son. Is Peppi looking after you?” Dad enquires.
“Yes, she is. In fact, do you mind if I borrow her for a few minutes?”
“Of course,” he says.
I clear my throat. “There are two orders in the oven, Dad. Should be ready in five,” I choke out, managing to keep my cool.
I go to slip my hand into Quade’s, but pull my arm back. If he rejects my touch after what he just heard, I’ll turn into a blubbering mess.
“Let’s go out back,” I whisper to him, nodding for him to follow me behind the counter.
My feet move faster with each step until I’m out in the back alley besides Dad’s car, pacing up and down the concrete.
“I can’t believe he just did that,” I say to myself. I’m the furthest thing there is from a slut. Well, okay, I’m not a nun, but one night that I don’t remember doesn’t count.
“Lace,” Quade says in a soothing voice, his hands outstretched as he approaches. “What just happened in there?”
Tears brim in my eyes. Pete Fairfield could be the reason this relationship doesn’t get off the ground. Who wants to be with a slut?
I turn my back on him and sit on the curb. I shield the sun from my eyes with the heels of my palms and cry.
A shadow is cast over me as Quade stands in front of me. He sits beside me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“Talk, Lace.”
“I’m not a slut,” I whimper.
“I know that. I don’t know what Pete’s fucking problem is.”
Time to be honest. He needs to know the truth—my version, not the version that Pete has concocted.
“Quade, I’ve only had sex once. It was with Jamie, but I don’t remember it.”
His jaw drops. The grip of his fingers curled around my shoulder tightens, drawing me closer to his chest. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”
“It wasn’t meant to happen.” With him. It was meant to be you.
“Are you telling me he raped you?” he asks, the pull of his brows creating lines across his sweaty forehead.
“No!” I shake my head. Jamie wouldn’t do something like that. I must’ve done or said something to give him the impression it was okay. “It’s my fault. I put myself in that position. You were gone, Faith was gone, and I drank. I drank until I could forget. Forget everything. Instead, I lost something, something I can never get back. Something I was saving for you.”
Quade wraps both arms around me, kissing me on top of my head. “That’s not giving consent, Lace. It doesn’t mean it’s okay.” He lets out a heavy breath and rakes his fingers through his chestnut locks. “You should report this. I mean, what if he’s a serial pest and does this kind of thing to girl’s all the time?”
“It was a long time ago, and it’s forgotten. Easy to forget when you don’t remember,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve spent years trying to move on from it; I can’t dredge all that up now.”
He shakes his head. “This is on me. I never should have left town. You would have had me to lean on. You might not have gotten drunk.”
I run my hand over his shoulder. He turns his flushed face towards me, glistening blue eyes meeting mine. He runs his outstretched fingers over his forehead.
“I’m my own responsibility, Quade. Don’t take this on. Like I said, forgotten.”
“It just makes me think, you know. I probably did more harm than good by leaving.”
I press my mouth to his, letting the feeling of his soft lips caressing mine take away the hurt. I still carry the sting in my chest from waking up in that bed, but today I’m letting it go. It feels good to finally talk about it, especially to the one person I feared would punish me the most.
Quade’s shoulders drop as our kiss deepens. I close my eyes, shutting out everything around us except Quade and I.
When I start moaning into his mouth, I know it’s time to stop. Plus, I don’t need Dad walking out here, catching us practically dry-humping in the gutter. I press one last peck against Quade’s mouth and then one on his cheek. Quade smiles and rubs his nose against mine.
“You didn’t mention this morning that you were coming in today,” I say, and breathe in his manly scent.
Quade tucks my hair behind my ear and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I wanted to surprise you. Chicks supposedly like that. I’m glad I was here though.”
“I could’ve handled him, you know,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“All five foot five of you?” he says through a chuckle as he squeezes one of my biceps. There’s not much resistance from my muscle as I try to flex it.
“Yeah, every inch of me,” I say, standing and dusting off my shorts.
Quade stands and leans against the brick wall which backs onto the courtyard. “Pete’s kinda gone off-tap since he lost all that weight. I haven’t caught up with him since I left, but it seems to me he’s got a big case of small-man syndrome. He got into a fight at the pub after we left the other night over God knows what, and I heard that it’s not the first in so many months.”
“Wow.” Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him like I did. He sounds like the kind of guy who might push a girl back. I just can’t understand how he can be so opposite in personality to his brother. Jamie was sweet, and I definitely saw a softer side to him. Jamie would have never yelled at me like that.
“Anyway, I’m here because I came to set a date for the wooing to commence. I’m tied up with dinner with Mum and Dad tonight but thought I’d see how tomorrow is for you?” He wraps his warm arms around my middle and pulls me against my chest.
“So the stuff we talked about … you’re okay with it? It doesn’t bother you?”
“It bothers me a little that you don’t remember, Lace, but it really fucking bothers me that someone took something away from you. I know you didn’t do it with your whole heart, but I was a fool to think that you wouldn’t move on. That you wouldn’t give yourself to someone else, especially after the way
I hurt you, leaving like I did. After I’d been gone a while I starting preparing myself for the fact that when I finally had the guts to come home, I’d find you madly in love with some punk who I’d want to be mates with and beat up at the same time.”
“You thought I could move on that easily?”
He shrugs. “I hated the thought that you might, but three years is a long time. A lot can change. I’m grateful I get a shot with you, Lace. That you’re giving me a chance to make up for lost time.”
“And don’t forget giving you a chance to woo me,” I tease with a shake of my head. “Did you take English Lit or something at uni?”
“Yeeessss,” he whines. “Don’t you know it’s all about the woo?” He presses his hips against mine, no doubt so I can feel the growing bulge in his shorts.
“Ooh,” I coo, sliding my stomach against him.
“Hmm,” Quade hums.
“So Thursday it is, then,” I say leaning up on tippy-toes and puckering my lips. Surely Dad will let me have the night off. I’ll beg Aunt Cat to take my shift. When I tell her I have my first date in years, surely she’ll do it for me? I’ll come in early and prep until I can prep no more. That’ll have to get me off the hook. “Until tomorrow.”
He smacks a loud kiss to my mouth. “I’ll pick you up at sex … shit. I mean six,” he says, a blush of colour prickling at his cheeks.
“Can hardly wait.”
“Best is yet to come, babe.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The pink rosebud corsage on my wrist steals my attention yet again. I can’t believe he bought one. I think it’s finally time to let the old one go.
“How’s your fish?” Quade asks.
“Pretty good, actually. They really are the best fish and chips in Runaway,” I tell Quade, after consuming another mouthful of the soft grilled snapper. He nods, chewing a mouthful of food.
I take another chip from my plate, dipping it into the aioli before letting the salty taste roll around my tastebuds.
“You got that right. Ah, I almost forgot.” Quade signals to the waitress in the far corner, who picks up something white and makes her way over to us. “You in that dress had my mind going blank.”
Losing Faith (Surfers Way) Page 13
