by Meg Maguire
“Libby, don’t make me do this to all these innocent people.”
She was besieged by gentle shoves and words of teasing encouragement, hands pushing her forward. She didn’t think she’d ever resisted an invitation to make a spectacle of herself before. Giving in, she broke into a dopey grin, ran to the front and hopped her butt onto the edge of the stage.
“Thank bloody God,” Colin said into the microphone amid cheers, interrupting his vocals. He tugged her by the hand to standing.
She grabbed the other mic and fell into the song. The crowd shouted its collective approval.
Libby felt her body flush with a mix of relief and gratitude. As she stood next to Colin, singing and making a cheesy fool of herself—the thing she did best—she wondered how on earth this activity had ever seemed fun before she’d met him…or indeed his brother. She’d loved Wellington before the Nolans, but not the way she’d come to in the past month.
As the song wound down, Colin replaced his mic and jumped off the stage. He turned back to Libby and held up his arms, recklessly inviting her to complete their corny performance with a Dirty Dancing-style lift. She replaced her own mic and fake-rushed the edge of the stage. Judging from Colin’s huge eyes, he hadn’t been planning on Libby actually jumping. She halted at the last moment then bounded back to wheel his bike forward. He carried it aloft in her stead, cutting a path through the throng. Libby followed him, deafened by rabid applause. When Colin made for the exit, she didn’t hesitate to follow.
As they stepped outside, he flipped his bike onto the sidewalk and turned to her. The door closed behind them, and the relative silence was like stepping into an alternate universe.
He smiled. “Hey, Bigfoot.”
She looked to their feet. “Hi, Tiger. Why aren’t you working?”
“I made Reece take over. I hope it’s not supremely patronizing, but I thought someone should go after you. I’d have been quicker, but I wasted a bunch of time at the marina before I remembered it was Thursday.”
She bit her lip. “Reece knows I was upset, then?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was too thick to realize.”
“That’s okay… That’s what I get for running off like some bad, prime-time teen drama.” She swallowed the lump that had returned to her throat. “So is this my two-man pity-party?”
“Oh, this is purely selfish. Do you have any idea how miserable that place would be without you around?”
“I don’t think I can go back to yours anymore. It’ll be really weird.”
He shook his head. “Only for you. Plus it’ll only be humiliating for like thirty seconds, and then it’ll be okay again.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe sometime.”
“I hope so. You fancy a walk?”
She nodded. The air was misty and cool, not quite raining, and it felt good after the fevery heat of the lights. They walked in silence for a couple of blocks, going in the general direction of the marina.
“Hey.” Colin patted the bike’s seat. “Hop on.”
“I didn’t think you’d let anyone ride your precious bicycle,” Libby said, smirking at him.
“Don’t get excited. I’m still driving.”
She climbed on, and Colin steered her with a strong fist on the handlebars. She gave his bell a ring and earned a stern glower.
Libby propped her feet on the crossbar and pushed out a cathartic breath, calm replacing her jitters. As they reached the pedestrian mall on Cuba Street, Colin grabbed the bars with both hands and sprinted them through the thoroughfare, scattering tourists and street performers, Libby screaming in delighted terror. When he slowed them back down, she hopped off and walked again.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ll drop you at your boat, if you want.”
“Maybe in a bit. Can we keep walking?”
“No worries. I’ve got all night.” He was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry he doesn’t know what he’s missing, Libs.”
“What’s that?” Libby asked unnecessarily.
“Reece. He’s an idiot.”
“He’s not.”
“He is. I’d give him a good smack in the head for you…if I thought I had any chance of landing it.”
“Well, thanks.”
“This is because you like him?” he asked.
“Yeah, it is. And you cannot tell him.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Good. Though he can probably piece it together now, anyhow.”
Colin nodded. “So, he’s not…into it? Or…?”
She shook her head, hopeless. “He’s just not into me. Can a person change their mind about that sort of thing?”
“Sure they can. People change all the time. It’s their only redeeming feature.”
“Even Reece?”
He blew out a long breath. “He’s a tough one, I know. He doesn’t bend much on things… It’s his best and worst quality. His opinions about people aren’t particularly malleable.”
“I feel like such a masochist.”
“Join the club.”
Colin’s candid smile made Libby’s heart melt and break at the same time, and she felt her composure crumble. “It really sucks.”
Colin’s free arm came around her shoulders and she finally let herself accept it—Reece probably wasn’t ever going to love her.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
“I get that. I just wanted it so much. He’s the first person I’ve felt that way about in what feels like forever.”
“Feel like what?”
“With Reece? Safe. Like he’s not after something hidden. He’s so up front about everything. I trust him.”
“And he never let you think he had feelings for you?” Colin asked.
“No. That’s what makes me the idiot.”
“Well, not necessarily.” He cleared his throat. “I suspect you’ve had it up to here with shrinks.” He tapped her chin.
“That I have.”
“But indulge me a minute.” They waited for a walk signal as a light rain began to fall. “Why’d you pick the one man who gave you a guarantee that he’d never feel that way for you? It’s not just about the challenge, is it?”
“No. Probably not.”
“Maybe you picked someone who wouldn’t go there with you because then you didn’t have to really risk anything. He wouldn’t let you get close, so there was nothing available there that you might end up losing. Safe. You said it yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“That said, he’s still an idiot.”
Libby smiled in spite of herself and they crossed the street.
“You don’t have to give up, you know,” Colin said. “I know it sucks, him not liking you back, but you’re leaving anyway, right? In a few months? If it’s really important to you, there’s no law that says you can’t settle for what’s on offer, even if it’s not ideal. It sounds like you’ve waited a long time for this.”
“I have.”
“One-sided infatuation bites, don’t get me wrong. But maybe it’s worth the pain. As pathetic as it sounds, you might want to consider just taking what you can get.” His voice sounded tight. “Things don’t have to be permanent to be worthwhile. You might regret it if you just give up.”
The idea struck Libby as both hopeful and humiliating. “I might regret it if I keep trying.”
“It’s your choice to make.”
“My mistake, you mean.”
Libby realized a thoughtful half mile onward that they’d wound up on Hutt Road, the route that ran along the coast to the north of the city.
“You’re taking me back to Kaiwharawhara,” she said.
“Yeah, if you’re letting me. Half your shit’s still cluttering up our telly room, anyway.”
She slowed. “I don’t want to see him yet.”
“Treat it like a plaster, Libs—rip it off quick and the pain’ll be over before you know it.”
“I must hav
e seemed like such a jackass,” she groaned. “Trying to sneak out. And now you’re going to make me walk back in there, looking like a drowned cat and have to see him, all calm and perfect.”
“Yeah. But it’s Reece. He’s not going to make you feel like a shit about it. He’s an idiot, but he’s not an arsehole.”
“I wish he was, sometimes. It’d be easier to not like him.”
“I suppose. He’s an odd one.”
Libby shrugged. “Is he? Or isn’t he more like the most together person ever?”
Colin shook his head. “Nah. He’s a regular old screwed-up human like the rest of us, no matter what he’s led you to believe. I know I complain about him being perfect, because he is, compared to me. But he buggers up his share of things too.”
Libby nodded, only fractionally comforted.
After forty minutes’ soggy walk, they reached the pub. Pep talk aside, Libby had grown more anxious with each block, and when she spotted the light coming through the front windows, her stomach turned.
Colin gave her a fortifying clap on the back. “Come on. Don’t worry about him.”
He grabbed her wrist as he pushed the door open and wheeled his bike inside, and it was probably a wise move—Libby wouldn’t have put it past herself to make a last-ditch run for it. Instead she let Colin tug her into the warm, dry, murmuring calm of this now-familiar place.
Reece was behind the bar, and his eyes flicked from the television to the pair of them as the door swung closed. Unsure of what else to do, Libby raised a hand in lame greeting. He raised one back.
Colin turned to her. “Go on up. Find some quality shit on the telly. Just give me a tick.”
Reece leaned on the bar, watching Colin send Libby up the stairs before he propped his bike beside the jukebox. His face was unreadable as he approached.
Reece kept his voice blasé. “All right?”
Colin fixed him with a pair of irritated eyes and sat down. “No thanks to you.”
“Be fair.”
“I don’t know exactly what you did tonight, but you messed her up.” He nodded toward the door to the flat. “And I’m the one who went after her to make it right.”
“There’s nothing to make right, mate. We didn’t do anything she didn’t insist she wanted to. And I’m sorry she’s upset—”
“Not sorry enough,” Colin cut in.
“Well she didn’t even tell me. Why does this have to be a big deal? She’s back now.”
“Because that girl is good for our family,” Colin said. “And not just because of the money. The best thing for it in years. Better than you coming back, even. Not that I’m not glad you did,” he added in a somewhat insincere tone.
“Watch it.”
Colin closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t even know what you have.”
“Yeah, I do actually. It’s not what you think, and it’s not my secret to tell. It’s weird and you wouldn’t understand. Me and her…we’re not that way. I’m trying to help her figure some things out and it’s complicated. I’m not surprised she’s getting all emotional, but trust me—she doesn’t want a big deal made of it. She needs to work it out for herself.”
Colin drummed his fingers on the bar, then rose with a face hardened by exasperation or disbelief. “You’re blind.” With that, he abandoned the argument and headed for the steps.
Reece let out a silent breath, cleared his mind as best he could and turned back to the match.
Libby had failed to find them a movie to watch. Colin was camped at the other end of the couch, staring at the rugby with the kind of involuntary investment men seemed disposed to, absently peeling the wrapper off the candy cane she’d given him. They’d been quiet in the hour since retiring to the flat, and she’d calmed. He was right—the Band-Aid approach had been painful but brief. She’d blush the next time she ran into Reece, but she’d live to tell the tale.
She looked to Colin. “Did you know you’ve got a reputation?” she asked, apropos of nothing. “With the local ladies?”
He took his gaze off the screen and gave her a look of cautious amusement. He shrugged. “Doesn’t take much around here. Welly’s a village disguised as a big city.”
“Did you know?”
“You’re making me sound like the town bicycle.” He frowned, feigning offense. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You’re known for more than kissing, apparently.”
“Hey now, watch your filthy mouth.” Colin’s cheeks colored, and he looked to be biting back a smile. “A reputation doesn’t mean anything, anyway. I mean, look at you. You’ve probably got one, and I’ve never seen you earning it. In fact, I seem to recall being forcibly wedged between you and a few eager suitors.”
“Come on, tell me. Is it true?”
“My lips are sealed.” He raised his eyebrows and drew his tongue around the candy cane in an outrageously lurid manner.
Joke or not, Libby felt a strange energy flash shoot through her body. She laughed to hide her unease.
They fell back into staring at the television, but she found herself distracted in an unwelcome way. She thought about what Colin had said, about getting what she could from Reece and being happy with it. Then she thought about Colin himself, about the possibility of being with someone like Colin, that way. Scary. What she’d done with Reece, that was sex with training wheels, slow and cautious and completely in her control. Sex with a man like Colin would be the big leagues in comparison, if his charisma was anything to judge by. So how come other girls could throw themselves at the opportunity, yet Libby’d been deflecting Colin’s flirtations for weeks now, secretly scared shitless by such an offer?
Libby pondered what Colin had said about her own supposed status as a sexual tigress, a small revelation dawning on her. For all his opportunities, and despite his rep and the sheer up-for-it-ness that oozed from his body, she’d never seen Colin so much as kiss a girl since she’d met him. She hadn’t seen him full-on flirt or chat a woman up, nor had she overheard him on the phone with one. He was either some kind of stealthy, undetectable ninja of a ladies’ man, or else it wasn’t an earned reputation. Or perhaps her presence on their couch most nights was cramping his style… Or maybe Libby understood as little about Colin and his motives as he did hers.
Libby pointed with her candy cane. “What’s your tattoo? The one on your neck.”
Colin pulled down the collar of his T-shirt to expose the skin. Ornate black script lettering ran below his Adam’s apple, and at first Libby thought it was Arabic or some other beautiful, unfamiliar language. But on closer inspection, it was written backward, like a reflection.
She squinted at it. “America?”
He smiled, eyebrows knitting skeptically. “Try again.”
She squinted harder. “Amelia.” Her stomach did a little flip.
“Got it in two.” He smoothed his collar back in place.
“Who’s Amelia?”
“She’s a friend of mine who died.”
Libby’s mood wilted further. “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s been a long time.”
“Why backward?”
Colin’s eyes moved to the TV. “So every time I look at myself in the mirror, I remember I’m supposed to be trying to live my life well enough to make her proud.”
“That’s sweet.”
He shrugged. Libby suspected he knew she was no good with sentimentality and was trying to spare her the discomfort of having to appear earnest. Smart boy.
“Does it work?” she asked.
He frowned, then turned to meet her eyes. “Yeah, sometimes. Most of the time.”
“And yet you still don’t wear a helmet.”
Colin smiled and shoved her knee with his own to tell her to give it a rest. She wasn’t half as good at intuiting emotions as he was, but she could still sense he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. His face had taken on a sad quality.
“You know,” he murmured a little while later. “If I cou
ld make Reece feel something for you, I would.”
Libby had to work fast to tramp down the pain this statement triggered. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a stupid crush.”
“Yeah.” He stared at the screen.
Libby remembered the previous week’s disastrous party, and how Colin had said he deserved all the abuse he’d had hurled at him. She wondered about this Amelia, if she was the woman who’d come between him and the angry man. She watched Colin’s face, weary with a dozen somber emotions, and the vulnerability emanating from him tugged something hard inside her. She couldn’t be sure where the impulse came from, but she reached her hands out to touch either side of his jaw, pushing up her thumbs to force the corners of his mouth into a smile.
“That’s better,” she said in the most soft and sincere tone of voice she’d managed in years.
Colin turned and put his own large, warm hands over her smaller, cooler ones and held them there. The sad expression he wore flickered then redoubled, and his eyes closed. He nuzzled his face against her palms in some breed of surrender, and Libby softened further. She wasn’t someone who comforted people, but she very much wanted to do something to ease the pain that this man—possibly her best friend on the planet—seemed to be going through.
She stroked the pads of her thumbs over Colin’s cheeks, and the eyes that opened to gaze into hers were different. In the dim, spasmodic light of the television they looked uncertain and fiery.
Her smile faded. “Colin.”
He shifted in a way she could sense, a change that both frightened and fascinated her. As he leaned in closer, Libby pulled back, fearing he was about to try to kiss her.
He didn’t. Instead she watched, helpless to do anything else, as he ran her hand across the faint stubble of his chin. A silent gasp escaped from her lips as Colin parted his own, sliding her thumb between them, his hot, wet mouth closing over her skin, gently sucking as his eyes closed tight. Libby was too shocked to move as he took her other thumb. His hands held her own as a single tear slid down his cheek and disappeared between her fingers. Only when his eyes opened and met hers did the panic mount so potently that she found herself able to protest.
Her hands twitched. Colin’s mouth released her, slow but obedient, teeth grazing her knuckles. Libby clutched her fists in front of her heart. Her gaze darted all over him, and she noticed his body, as if for the first time. Strong and dangerous. Her pulse hammered and she wanted to run all over again.
