“And how would you like me to do this, Ava?” he asked. His words made her shiver. Scott’s hand snaked over her bare chest, tracing a line between her breasts. Ava was sure he was going to kill her with his maddeningly light fingers. “Tell me how you want me.”
He was a giant, a tall, muscled giant who could easily take her on. Ava turned her head to the side, grabbing a fistful of Scott’s hair as she moaned against his ear. She wasn’t going to hold back this time, not for him, not for anybody.
“I’ll take the high road,” she murmured into his ear as Scott pulled her close and slid his hand where she wanted him most.
“I’ll take the low road,” Scott drawled and he bent down to kiss her neck. He bit her shoulder, and Ava’s hips jerked forward, making her gasp as his fingers slid deeper.
“Don’t stop now,” she told him, trying to grasp at his hands. He chuckled.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured into her ear, spinning her around again to crush his lips against hers. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
But his words were forgotten as Scott led her to the bed and traced his hands down her back. A light sheen of sweat already formed on her skin. Ava could smell the heady scent of plumerias as she raised herself above him. And when it all reached fever pitch, she had one last moment of control, placing a sloppy kiss over his scar before she finally felt her entire body letting go.
Ava sat bolt upright a few hours later. Her hair was a mess, there were discarded petals on the sheets, and the air was heavy with the smell of sweat and flowers. Scott was nowhere to be seen, and she’d done it again. She wondered briefly why she felt a lot less guilty now than she did before. Ava stretched languidly, feeling like she’d just taken on the world.
In the past, sex was just something she did. She wasn’t particularly good, and didn’t quite understand what all the fuss was about. But now she understood. With the right person, at the right moment, it became something fun, something to fuss over and enjoy.
She cast a glance at the clock on her bedside table and cursed when she saw the time. Seven-thirty! God, she was late! She thought she would have time to pull together a decent outfit for the party, but sleeping with Scott had come first. And he didn’t wake her up!
She scrambled off the bed and marched to the closet still in the nude. Normally she would be panicking, but Ava realized that she wasn’t as worried as she should have been. She’d packed one of her office dresses for the trip, a sexy emerald green dress that would look appropriate with a sheer, cream cover up. Ava looked at herself in the mirror as she applied her makeup. Her skin was still flushed from her earlier activities, slightly tan from the Balinese sun. Her hair was wavy and messy thanks to Scott’s braids, let loose with a few errant flowers.
She barely recognized herself anymore.
But it’s good, she thought, smacking her lips to let her peach lipstick blot. Ava had never really looked at herself in the mirror and thought anything about herself. She always thought that The Plan was her life, and that she was defined by her ambition. But now, she started to find something more in herself. Just . . . her.
Look at me, soul-searching, she smiled, grabbing her cover up and slipping on a pair of gold sandals before going to the party. Scott vaguely mentioned that Gabbie was something of a celebrity in Hong Kong, and the chance to escape the paparazzi and celebrate her second-thirtieth birthday was a huge deal. So huge in fact, that only close, intimate friends (and Ava) were invited.
“Which was why she invited you,” he said while they lay in bed, tangled together under the sheets. Scott dropped a kiss on top of Ava’s head. “She knows I need backup when her friends try to strip me down to my undercrackers with their eyes. That or I have a huge plouk on my face you’re not telling me about.”
“A what?”
“A plouk, you know. A spot, a zit, a er…”
“A pimple? Sexy. Now say it again.”
“Plouk.”
Ava laughed so hard at the word plouk that she had to pee.
She walked past the gorgeous pool area, into a pale stone corridor that led to the courtyard.
“Wow,” she said, looking out at the spectacle before her. She was in the middle of a Balinese dream. Tall towers of purple hydrangeas cascading over bamboo poles flanked each side of a concrete elephant statue. Under a sheer canopy hung hundreds of yellow lightbulbs, illuminating it against the dark blue sky. A giant sign with the same bulbs stood on the side with Gabbie’s name, like a marquee title from a musical. The tables had pale green hydrangeas for decoration, and the tablecloths were deep blue like the sky. The sun was still setting, and everything looked absolutely magical. Gabbie really pulled out all the stops on this.
“You’re late!” the celebrant herself exclaimed, approaching her. Gabbie looked like a princess, her high neck, all-lace gown suited her, and with the delicate purple flowers in her hair, she looked even more radiant. Ava found herself being pulled into a hug. “You just missed Scott’s toast—it made me cry a little bit.”
“Really?” Ava asked incredulously, unable to imagine Scott making a whole room cry with just his words. A strange feeling niggled in the back of her mind, the same feeling she got when she knew she was about to do something reckless or out-of-The-Plan. For the second time in her life, Ava ignored it.
“He was looking for you earlier,” Gabbie smiled, waggling her eyebrows at Ava like she knew why. Ava shook her head and ignored that.
“Thanks again for inviting me, Gabbie,” Ava said, smiling. “This is amazing.”
“Anything for a friend,” Gabbie winked, letting Ava go off on her own to look for Scott.
As she walked around to look for the Highlander of her dreams (she was never going to call him that to his face), Ava found herself wandering away from the party and near the pool area. The water was tempting, a deep chlorine blue with deep pink bougainvillea flowers floating on the surface. Leaving her sandals next to her, she sat down, letting her feet dangle in the water. There was a canang sari next to her, and she gently let it drift on the pool, making a wish.
She took a deep breath and rolled her head around, feeling perfectly relaxed. A French song she recognized was playing in the background, and she hummed along. Her mind was reeling with thoughts of Scott, listing down all the things she knew about him.
Everything I Know About Scott McLeod
He’s Scottish. Verray Scottish.
He lives in Hong Kong. . . ?
And is also approximately five years old.
He’s blunt and rude and says a lot of dirty jokes.
He loves the Proclaimers.
He’s changed me. Forever.
There was nothing in that list that was substantial enough for her to want him the way she did. It made no sense. She felt so close to him, but there was a distance between them that Ava couldn’t quite grasp. She’d opened up everything to Scott. He had yet to tell her where he lived, what he did.
He never even told her why he was in Bali.
“There you are, my bonny lass,” Scott’s voice appeared out of nowhere, and Ava turned just in time to see him leaning against the stone hallway that led to the party, watching her with a handsome grin on his face and a bottle of Bintang in his hand. His five o’ clock shadow had set in, his hair was gelled back. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and enough of his buttons were open for her to see a bit of hair on his chest. His slacks were rolled up to his ankles, and he was still wearing his espadrilles. Ava fought the urge to swallow. “Been looking all over for you.”
“Well, if you woke me up, you wouldn’t have had to look for me,” Ava pointed out, looking away from him. Her feelings were too jumbled up to deal with Scott right now. But she wasn’t about to tell him to walk away.
“I figured you needed the rest after all that shagging we did,” he joked, sauntering over to her. “That’s got to be some kind of personal best for me, and I’ve been called Mr. Shagtastic.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ava answered mechanically, still focused on the water. Her mind was in a jumble of thoughts, locked in a classic battle between heart and head. For someone who always used her head to deal with crises and life choices, Ava’s heart was putting up a pretty good fight.
The background music changed, and it was I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles). God, that song was ruined for her now. Naturally Scott started singing at the top of his lungs, splashing water at her as he kicked his long legs in the water. He was really at his best when he was making her laugh.
Just once, Ava told herself, making herself turn. Laugh with him. He was like a kid disobeying his mother. He was just so happy. She didn’t know why, but she loved laughing with him.
“Stop that!” she giggled, pulling her feet out of the water and standing up. Scott looked up at her, flashing a long streak Scottish impish grin. “This isn’t fair, you know,” she told him, flopping back down next to him. “I’ve told you everything about me, and you have yet to tell me anything real.”
“I know,” he said, suddenly serious. Now he was an adult again, burdened with life, tired and lost. He was giving her the same look he did on that first night they met, when Ava first opened up to him. “I wasn’t supposed to do this.”
“So what are you doing in Bali, Scott?” Ava asked, suddenly defensive. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Who was this serious guy? “Why did you come here?”
Scott sighed and shook his head. He had let this go too far. He was supposed to be the one-night-stand guy. He didn’t laugh and giggle while walking, he didn’t hold a girl’s hand. He certainly didn’t jump into bed with the same girl twice—at least not in the last year.
In the last year, Scott McLeod had perfected the art of walking away before things got too serious. He’d gone past that point with Ava now, and so he had to be the bad guy. He realized that Ava saw him as a lifeline, someone who actually mattered to her. She was trying to put him into a box. He couldn’t have that.
“I’m sorry, Ava.”
She furrowed her brows, confused at the statement. Ava pulled her knees up to her chest, waiting for his explanation. Then Scott pulled his feet out of the water and kissed the top of her head. His voice was low and deep, and he spoke in the same way he had murmured sonnets into her skin just a few hours ago.
“I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”
“What are you talking about?” Ava asked. “Scott, I don’t even know what I want!”
But his mind was already made up.
“Goodbye, Ava.”
Then he was gone, disappearing behind the back entrance to their villa. Ava watched him go, completely confused, like someone had slid the rug from under her feet. What happened? Her head spun, her heart hammered in her chest.
Go after him! her head and heart cried, and Ava stood up, getting ready to make her case. In the matter of Scott McLeod vs. Ava Bonifacio . . .
She was about to slip into her sandals and go when a couple of girls walked around to the other end of the pool, laughing and talking like they were the only ones in the area. Ava recognized them as a couple of girls from Gabbie’s pre-party. Ava called them the Woo! girls, since until that moment, that was the only thing she had heard them say. She was sitting in a darkened corner of the pool, so they didn’t see her, but she could see and hear them. They sat on the deck chairs, holding colorful drinks.
“Ugh, wasn’t that guy totally hot?” Blonde Woo girl asked Brunette Woo girl. “Whew!” she exclaimed, fanning herself.
“Ugh, and he’s Scottish too. Is it too soon for me to wonder what sex with him could be like?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind his tragic backstory, which everyone was so hush-hush about,” Brunette Woo girl commented dryly, looking at her nails, casting a glance at the other girl just to see if she was intrigued. Of course Blonde Woo was. Ava would have been so amused at this conversation if it wasn’t almost definitely about Scott.
“Thankfully I wrangled it from Mallard Cheong, Scottish guy’s investor. Gabbie filled in the gaps.”
“What’s his story?” Blonde Woo girl asked, resting her chin on her hand.
“The usual,” the brunette shrugged. “Sarcastic, dark, and so full of emotional problems that make him a fantastic lover—at least according to Gabbie.”
Ava’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Scott and Gabbie? Together? How did that even work? Gabbie was so bright and perky she could power a small city, and Scott . . . well, wasn’t. Perhaps that was why Gabbie was so concerned for him?
It’s not a big deal, Ava told herself. It’s not. You and Scott barely know each other, and Gabbie has been nothing but nice. There’s no reason to be . . . jealous.
“Why did she break up with him?” Blonde Woo girl asked, swallowing the last of her drink. “I mean, Charlie’s great and all, but come on. Scottish sex god!”
“Well, he broke up with her when he found out he had cancer,” Brunette Woo girl said nonchalantly, like she was talking about the weather. “Disappeared for like, a year and a half and Mallard said he came back without a left breast three months into remission.”
Ava’s back stiffened. The conversation on the other side of the pool was drowned out by her heart hammering in her ears, her arms shivering suddenly. In her mind, she could picture Scott’s angry white scar on his left chest, the way he’d dismissed it and made a joke about it. She could feel the fluttering kiss he’d just left on her forehead, remembering every moment she looked at him like she didn’t quite understand him. The way he’d prayed at the temple. What was he looking for?
She clamped her hands over her mouth to hold her reaction in. For the second time in a week, her entire world was crashing all around her, but this hurt much, much more than her recent failures.
She watched the girls walk back to the party like nothing had happened. With a hand still clamped over her mouth, Ava walked back to her villa. She was absolutely terrified, and Bali felt farther away from home than she would have wanted. She was too out of her comfort zone and she didn’t want to handle it right now.
Walking straight to her bathroom, she turned on the taps and waited for the tub to fill up. She locked the adjoining doors, the door to the bathroom and took off her clothes. She needed this. She needed to be alone.
Scott lay in his bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling and his phone beside him. He never told anyone (aside from Charlie, obviously) that he was going to be in Bali, so his oncologist was actually saving a lot of money with Scott refusing to pick up the phone. He stood up, leaving the bedroom to get more beer. What was the bloody point, anyway? Would it all matter in the end, if he had nothing to show for his pathetic life?
Seeing Gabbie and Charlie at the party reminded him that Charlie had it right all along. Get the girl and be happy, and she would ride out whatever shit storm you were going through with you. Because without her, then what was the point? The other person was a witness to your life, someone who would stand up and say, “yes, you’ve lived because I have seen you live. You matter because you matter to me.”
His parents, forty years together and happy with their life in Edinburgh, we lived this way.
But Scott was too stubborn and incredibly dim to see that, so he ran away to London, then to Hong Kong. His Mum and Dad thought that when he got sick, he would actually come back to Scotland, but even then he couldn’t stay too long. He was restless and lost, a long-limbed soul drifting in a sea of beer and the occasional bar fight. It was to
o late for him now, and he didn’t deserve it even if it did come. So he walked away.
He tilted his head slightly as he heard the taps in Ava’s bathroom turn on. He hadn’t told her that the walls in the villa were paper-thin, and he could hear everything going on in hers. Her music turned on, another Queen song he couldn’t identify.
Ordinarily he would have scoffed at her for it, but after she told him about her father, he couldn’t help but smile a bit. Ava was so different from what he first judged her to be. She laughed when he was being an idiot, and when she laughed, he’d forget everything that buggered him. When they had sex that afternoon (had it only been a few hours ago?), it was fun, slow, and wonderful. He might have thought that they were in love. Scott could just close his eyes and see Ava’s eyes closing, her mouth opening deliciously as she moved over him, the way she giggled before she kissed him. Christ, he could still feel her fingers over his scar if he thought about it hard enough.
He shook his head and took a large swallow from his drink. He had to stop thinking about Ava. He’d walked away from her, and she already had her use of him. She wasn’t his.
Walking over to his speakers (trying not to think about Ava laughing at the way he walked), Scott put on his own music. Eventually Freddie Mercury faded away, replaced with the harmonica riffs of The Proclaimers’ Burn Your Playhouse Down. It did nothing to make him feel better.
CHAPTER SIX
We’ll Always Have Bali
“SO YOU’RE MOVING hotels?” Bee asked incredulously as Ava kept haphazardly throwing her things into her luggage.
“Yeah, Martha recommended that I stay at this really cool place in Seminyak,” Ava said quickly, grabbing all the toiletries and letting then drop into the bag. “Cheaper too.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”
“What? That Martha doesn’t know the cool places? She travels a lot—“
“I’m not talking about your accountant friend,” Bee sighed. “I’m talking about you. Are you okay?”
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