Marbella Neat

by Camille Oster

  “He said no,” Megan admitted.

  “Who?”

  “Jesus.” She didn’t want to talk about it, but she also needed to talk, because she was utterly bewildered. How could a guy look at her like that and then just say it wouldn’t work?

  “No what?”

  “To anything. Said it would never work between us. Just flat no.”

  “Jesus has always been a bit prickly.”

  “He’s not even giving me a chance.”

  “So he’s not interested. Sometimes guys plain aren’t.”

  “I suppose,” Megan said, but wasn’t entirely ready to believe it was the case this time. He’d been so nice to her. He’d taken her to see his parents. There had been a reason for that. It had been a test of some kind and she’d failed. Her insides clenched with the realisation. Now he’d just written her off. It really stung. “I really like him.”

  “Maybe someone else is in your cards. How about we go find some fortune reader down in old Marbella and she can tell you there’s some fantastic guy you’re just waiting to meet. It’s all bullshit, but they do tend to state the obvious, and for you, it’s that you will meet some fantastic guy.”

  Pulling her towel across her, she couldn’t really trust herself to speak at the moment because she wanted to have a whiney breakdown, which was completely mature in every respect. “What do you do when a guy says no?”

  Aggie snorted. “It’s hard to get them to say anything but no. How can it be so difficult to find a guy who isn’t pouting over the idea of some meaningful relationship?” Aggie was watching the lifeguard she had had a chat with when they first arrived. He was rather spectacular looking and Megan recalled there had been some fling between the two a while back. “Why are all the pretty ones always dead keen on settling down with their girlfriends, or having some existential crisis about it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Aggie said with a huff. “I’m just grumpy.”

  Ignoring that little outburst of craziness—obviously part of a conversation that was largely internal—Megan’s thoughts returned to the sadness that ached in her chest. “What am I supposed to do now? I have all these feelings for him and he’s just not interested.”

  “I don’t know if that’s entirely true, though. There had to be some interest there.”

  “Interest he found lacking.”

  “Who says it has to work out, anyway? What’s so bloody wrong with it not working out? The world doesn’t end because a relationship finishes, does it?”

  Megan couldn’t help thinking over the words. She didn’t really want that, though. “But I want it to work out.”

  “Well, you better not take no for an answer, then,” Aggie said and grabbed a magazine and flipped through the pages harshly. “I’m just sick of everything having to be so serious. We’re not exactly old yet, are we? What’s wrong with things being a little less serious?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, if that’s what you want,” Megan said, still feeling a part of a conversation she didn’t entirely know where it was coming from. “I suppose you have to go for what you want.” Maybe that referred to her as well.

  As nerve-wracking as it had been kissing him when he’d invited her away for the day, it would be more so refusing to take no for an answer and pushing her case again. How did one even do that? Obviously, she wasn’t going to beg, but maybe she could ask why? What was it she’d done to make him go from hot to cold? The interest he’d showed in her hadn’t been imagined. He’d taken her to lunch, invited her around to his parents. They’d kissed, and it had been spectacular. Megan had felt that kiss all the way down to her toes. It had been utterly perfect. But then, after ‘thinking’, he was wiping his hands of her. No really, she deserved more of an answer, and a chance to defend her case.

  The thing was, as opposed to Ricky, things didn’t fit into some scenario she’d build in her head, where he slotted into place for a future she wanted. With Jesus, she had no idea—she just wanted him. She wanted the kindness she saw in him, the way he was loyal to the people around him, and how hard he worked. All these things she admired to no end. Okay, the amazingly hot, dark looks and gorgeous body might help.

  There was something real about him, something earthy she hadn’t come across before and she found it infinitely arousing. No one had gotten under her skin like he did. It had been like a revelation: yes, that was what I want. And just to say it wouldn’t work between them, now that she’d found something that made her heart sigh. It was like an astronaut being grounded on their first flight—all that work and waiting, for nothing.

  And Aggie—okay, Aggie was no help whatsoever, with whatever crisis she had going on. Obviously, she was upset at people taking relationships too seriously. Probably because her last two boyfriends had dumped her and gone on to find the loves of their lives. “You know, if you want something cheap and meaningless, you should try Ricky,” Megan said. Aggie just stared at her, with utter disbelief in her eyes. “Or not. Just a suggestion.”

  Chapter 59

  Ricky was glad to see the girls arrive at the club. It had been a week since he’d seen them and he’d felt their absence. Not as glad to see that creepy cousin of Aggie’s following after, but family was family, he guessed. It was just hard to see any resemblance between Aggie and her cousin, the sulking mute. Still, it was good to see the girls.

  Increasingly, the smiling faces below him were all just meaningless. He really was changing, and he wasn’t exactly sorry. Even left on his own, he hadn’t reverted to his old ways, and he was kind of proud of that.

  Signalling his break, he handed over and headed to the bar for a drink.

  “You’ll be so proud of me,” he said as he sat down at their table, taking the seat next to Aggie. She was wearing a loose-ish gold dress that was cinched at the waist. It complemented her skin. “I’ve been celibate the whole fucking week, like a monk, I’ve been.”

  “Great,” Aggie said, taking a sip of her drink, her plump, pink lips curving around the little straw. Ricky blinked, trying to clear an even dirtier image out of his mind. This celibacy gig was doing things to his mind. “Finding it difficult?”

  “It’s not too bad, actually. Have had to abuse myself more than normal.” He watched her intently to see if she was offended by the comment, to see how honest he could be about some things. Friendships with girls were new territory and he had no idea where the lines were. He knew where he wanted them to be—somewhere around territory where he could be honest. And if she cringed at the fact that he wanked in the shower, obviously they would be somewhat less than open.

  She shook her head, but there was a small smile on her lips. To his relief, she wasn’t shocked, or apparently disgusted.

  “How are you, Megan?” he called to further down the couch where Megan sat, looking away.

  “Fine,” she said, but he could tell there was no interest in talking to him. She was categorically not interested in him, which made him wonder at how quickly she let go of her anger. Did she ever see him? Megan had never remotely understood who he was—flaws included.

  He turned his attention back to Aggie, who was at least aware he was there. “Hanging with your cousin?”

  “I had to bring him. My parents actually guilt tripped me. You’d figure I’d be past that, but no. I guess it is a consequence of still living with them.”

  “Ever thought of getting your own place?”

  “I could, but why? If I was in a relationship, which I am strictly not interested in, then that would make sense, but Mum doesn’t want to be alone, so why fight it?”

  “Cuts down on the babysitting, though.”

  “True,” she said, her mouth growing tight in distaste. Funnily, not even Aggie could stand her cousin. The dude looked so uncomfortable and out of place, Ricky wanted to tell him to chill.

  “Hey,” Esme said as she arrived, taking a seat around the table. She looked good—clean and fresh. There was always
enthusiasm about Esme, but then she was a bit younger than Aggie and Megan, who were more the same age as Felix—who ranged more to the arsehole than the outright creepy. His salivating after Shania hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Esme was cute. Ricky watched her as she chatted with the girls, talking about some person she had caught up with, someone the others appeared to know, as well. Nice legs. The urge to go for something quick and dirty flashed through his mind, but he tried to quell it. It wasn’t about quick hook-ups anymore; it was about finding someone he could hang with.

  She seemed to notice him and smile, before picking up her drink and returning to her conversation. Maybe she was his type. Truth was, he didn’t know.

  Creepy cousin got up and went for a walk. Without the girls, he probably wouldn’t have gotten in here. He had no sense of dress at all, and his hair—what was that? Did his mother choose his haircut?

  Returning his attention to Esme, he considered her further. She had a good personality and a nice body. Perhaps there was something there to check out, but how would he go about that? He wasn’t exactly experienced with deep and meaningful. Should he ask her out on a ‘date’ or something?

  Also, was she the right kind of girl? He wasn’t known for being picky. Hot enough had been his measure. Beyond that, it hadn’t really mattered.

  “Felix would be vicious,” Aggie said, having apparently noticed his entire thought processes. “And he really doesn’t hold back.”

  “He already hates me because I pulled the girl he’s interested in.”

  “Yes, well, don’t wade into that one. He’s got a history with Shania that is long and convoluted.”

  “They were an item?” Ricky should have guessed there was something there by the way Felix acted. Again, he hadn’t really thought about it, and he wouldn’t have cared if he’d known. “So he wouldn’t take it kindly if I pulled his sister, too?”

  Aggie shook her head, but again, she was amused. “I thought you weren’t doing that anymore.”

  “I would perhaps make exceptions to mess with a dick like Felix.”

  “As much as I wouldn’t mind someone yanking Felix’s chain, Esme is a nice girl and probably a little too messed up to toy with.”

  Ricky didn’t like mental girls, particularly the ones who wouldn’t accept it was just a one-off thing. By habit, he stayed away from them like they were contagious. It really tarnished Esme’s shine. If he was going to do the girlfriend thing, it was going to be with a cool girl, not a mental one. Shame. He was back to square one.

  “Picking girls is hard,” he admitted. “Previously, it was simply a question of who was most game. Now it’s complicated.”

  “And you don’t seem to win whatever you do.”

  “So bitter.” Again he took a risk calling her out, and again he hoped honesty wasn’t punished.

  “I am not bitter,” she said. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  Chapter 60

  It felt nice to be home, Felix thought as he rose out of bed and made his way outside, still wearing his pyjamas. They’d arrived back a night or so back and he’d gone straight home. As per usual, Shania had said nothing; hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. She just slipped away with a general wave, but that didn’t bother him. It wasn’t as if he had expected her to say anything. They didn’t generally say things.

  The air was coolish in the morning, and he still couldn’t quite believe he was up this early, and practically sober. Funnily, a day off at home wasn’t quite as confronting a task as it normally was. He wasn’t looking for work to distract him. He was okay, and that was a new feeling, one he didn’t quite know what to make of.

  There were actually possibilities for what he could do that day. He might actually go to the Athletic Club and work out. Maybe lunch with some of the crowd. Staying in was a bit much, but he didn’t have the clawing urge to escape. The urge to pour copious amounts of alcohol down his throat was also something he wasn’t fully dedicated to. Could he possibly have a sober day?

  With a sigh, he looked out over the view. Marbella was quiet this time of the morning. There weren’t any noxious noises of mowers around and birds were singing. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually sat and just listened to nothing.

  Nope, there was nothing he needed to do, nothing driving him anywhere. Maybe he was still really drunk and he just didn’t realise it.

  Esme stepped out onto the patio. “María’s making some eggs. Do you want any?”

  “I could eat,” he said. Eggs, sure, why not?

  Sitting down, Esme checked the clock on her phone.

  “Need to be somewhere?”

  “I’ve got an appointment at the salon?”

  “The one by the office?”

  “No,” Esme said as if it was a strange question. “Why would I go there?”

  “No reason,” Felix said. Esme had never clicked onto the strange hard-on Dominic had for that woman. Still, he never approached her, but occasionally, Felix would find him at the window, looking down on her little establishment on the other side of the fountain below. Obviously, he couldn’t see her. He would have had to build a glass roof for that.

  The thing with the hairdresser was something Dominic refused to acknowledge. Kind of like how he, himself, refused to acknowledge he had a persistent thing for Shania—from the very first moment he’d walked out here and seen her. It wouldn’t be fully descriptive to say she rubbed him the wrong way; she’d rubbed him every way there was and he’d hated her for it. She no longer wore the slutty clothes she used to back then, the neon Lycra and tight leggings. Her fashion had evolved, and he kind of missed the old gear, the stuff that had crept into his mind and refused to budge.

  Maybe the reason he’d reacted too harshly to her was that he’d been so hot for her and he’d never wanted to be. She’d drawn it out of him by sheer force and he’d been powerless against her. Obviously, he’d tried to exert control, but it had ended disastrously. It was still ending disastrously, usually with his pants down on the floor, along with his pride.

  But something had changed in Santorini. It wasn’t something he could point to. The desire had been there, just as strong, clawing in his belly, twisting his insides and making him as profoundly aware of her as he always was. They hadn’t been nicer to each other, or reached any type of understanding between them. Still, something had changed.

  “What has you looking so… content?” Esme asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “Where is that constant scowl on your face? It’s gone. I thought that was just part of your face. What have you done? This is wholeheartedly creepy, like in a serial killer way. You haven’t murdered some girl in some insane bender, have you?”

  Disturbingly, the idea of Shania tied up and utterly at his mercy wasn’t as cringe-inducing as it should have been. He could imagine her eyes blazing with hatred and she, too, would know the feeling of not having any control. The idea of having power over her was perversely thrilling. While not long ago, just the idea of her grated against everything in him. That was the shift right there, but he couldn’t explain it more.

  “No more than usual,” he said to Esme, but his thoughts were still distracted by the revelation of this change. Nothing had changed between them; it was him that had changed.

  “I’m meeting Shania there.”

  “At the salon?” he said and accepted the plate of eggs María gave him.

  Esme simply stared at him as if he’d said something completely outlandish. “What?”

  “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “That,” she said, pointing to his face. “There was like nothing. Normally, you would be throwing me evils, holding yourself back from going for my throat, but ‘At the salon?’ What the hell was that?”

  “It was a logical question.”

  “Not for you, it wasn’t.”

  “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “I know what this means,” Esme said in a singing voice. He knew that voice. It was the one she used
when she teased him. “Shania is going to be my sister-in-law.”

  “Fuck off.” Okay, that was not as shocking as it should have been, either. He should be utterly gobsmacked at the statement, but he wasn’t. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her eyes just stared at him as if he was doing something bat-shit crazy.

  No, her assumption was utterly ridiculous. He and Shania had nothing in common. Okay, they had absolutely amazing sex in common, but it was a bit of a stretch saying there was anything more between them, anything that could ever be substantial. It was just a thing, that’s all, slightly more than a fling, and Esme had just found a new way of teasing him.

  Chapter 61

  The sun shone off the glass of the salon as Shania approached, taking her sunglasses off as she pushed the door open. Esme was already there, reading a magazine in the seating area.

  “Hey,” Shania said as Esme saw her approaching, reaching to kiss her on the cheek. She was getting used to it. At home, they were huggers; here, they were kissers. It actually was simpler when one got used to it. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re not. I was just a bit early.”

  A woman approached them, showing them to their seats.

  “Do you think I should do something a bit more drastic?” Shania asked as she considered her hair in the mirror. Her cascading, dark brown curls had been her look for a long time. She’d been lucky with her hair, but maybe it was time to tone it down a bit.

  “No, I don’t think it’s the right time to do anything drastic. I think you should go for a trim and a treatment. You have lovely hair. There is no reason to chop it off when there are girls who would kill for hair like that.”

  Shania sighed and thought it over. It would be a big step to utterly change her looks, go for something a little more corporate. The buns she’d taken quite a liking to—and wore often—would be out. It had been as if she’d been hiding her wildness, and leaving work, she let it escape. There had always been a nice feeling with that. A corporate haircut was commitment, though. It could still be sexy, but in a much more understated way. It would mean letting go of that wild side and utterly commit to being a professional woman—growing up, even.