I snorted water out my nose, and my mask promptly cracked into a thousand pieces at his lame, dorky joke.
Six weeks later, I met Herringbone, Beetle Bob’s new baby python. His greeting was simply a pair of beady black eyeballs peeking out from the inside of my running shoe. I snapped a photo and messaged Jared.
E: So I thought I’d go for a light jog this morning.
J: Nice snake shoes. Bet that made you run fast.
E: Like you wouldn’t believe.
Two months later.
J: Finally, a weekend off. Thought I’d come visit.
I panicked.
A long distance friendship was all good and well from the safety of another state, but we all knew how well I managed in Jared’s real life presence.
E: This weekend? What a shame. Beetle Bob and I will be away visiting his sister and brother-in-law in Canberra.
We weren’t, but Beetle Bob had been making noises about it, so no time like the present. I messaged Beetle Bob, and in a matter of moments, our weekend was arranged.
Two months later, we arrived at the conclusion our musical career would take off better in Sydney and made the decision to move.
J: Mac tells me you’re moving to Sydney.
E: Yes, our band is going to be the next big thing.
J: Does this mean we get to hang out?
E: You should be so lucky.
Three months later found us all set to move. Over the internet, we picked out a newly renovated duplex based in Coogee, a pretty beachside suburb just out of the city and a short walk to the beach. It had three bedrooms on one side and three on the other with a joint basement that housed a shared laundry and tons of space for musical equipment. It was perfect for the six of us. Coby did the inspection and when he gave us the nod telling us it wasn’t really a fallen down ramshackle in a desperate state of disrepair, he arranged the rental for us. That simply left us with four weeks to pack up our lives in Melbourne and make the move.
Two weeks later, Beetle Bob and I decided to part ways. Long distance visiting was simply not feasible when it came to the care of his creatures.
J: So you and Beetle Bob, huh?
E: Draco and Herringbone will fill the empty void that I leave behind.
One week later, Jared and Travis arrived for an overnight stay to help move some of the heavier furniture. The plan was for us to follow in a few days with the rest of our possessions and the band equipment.
Unfortunately, on the afternoon of Jared’s arrival, I’d received some snide comments from Beetle Bob’s friends at the local store, and feeling angry and a little let down, I met up with Henry at the Zen bar, our new local watering hole since graduating uni.
It was later that night, after five Metropolitans, that Mac arrived at the bar, Jared and Travis in tow. Metros were like Cosmos but better because they were made with black-currant vodka. I had been busy happily bashing Beetle Bob’s friends to Henry to make myself feel better. Henry, who was trying his best to offer support but not used to Metros, was having trouble keeping his seat.
My first thought when I saw Jared venture into the bar alongside Mac and Travis, was thank God I finally looked decent. My long waves of hair were curled into lush waves that very morning. My skin was tinted rose from the summer sunshine. No longer donning ratty pyjamas or the last minute wrinkled outfit worn to lunch, I was dressed in tailored grey shorts with pink pinstripes, a loosely fitted cream blouse, and strappy lemon coloured wedges. It was the perfect ensemble: casual, chic, and pretty.
My second thought was that he hadn’t changed one bit since I saw him last. His effect on me was as strong as it had ever been. My breath still lodged in my throat, and my palms sweated so much I had to wipe them discreetly on my shorts. Communicating via messages from another state was so much easier and safer.
I overheard Henry informing Jared of the spiteful comments by Beetle Bob’s friends. Soon after, I felt Jared’s hand grasp mine as he hustled me into a quiet dark corner of the bar.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
The endearment sent my pulse racing, and up close, those fierce green eyes of his were amazing, the golden flecks highlighting the vivid shade of emerald.
I ducked my head from the intensity and picked at a loose thread on the hem of my blouse. “I’m okay Jared, thanks. I just… We parted on good terms so it wasn’t expected.”
“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just jealous.”
I huffed out a little laugh at his words. “What? Jealous of me?”
“Jealous that your Beetle Bob managed a catch like you.”
“He’s not my Beetle Bob anymore.”
I felt the light brush of Jared’s fingers as he gently swept a rogue curl of hair off my shoulder and tucked it behind my ear.
I met his eyes at the touch, unable to look away and not wanting to.
“Good,” he muttered.
Slowly, he bent his head, and I felt the whisper light touch of his mouth on my collarbone as though he’d needed the very taste of my skin on his lips.
My heart thumped painfully in my chest, and without thinking, I tilted my neck. At the silent invitation, his tongue came out to trace hot, lazy circles on my skin, slowly and maddeningly making his way up to my ear. I felt my knees buckle, and he shifted towards me until his body pressed me into the wall.
“Fuck,” I heard him mutter before his lips came down on mine.
He swallowed the moan climbing up my throat, his tongue flooding my mouth. One hand grasped the back of my neck, reaching up to thread his fingers through my hair. The other hand tugged at my leg until he had it wrapped around him, ensuring I was pressed against him hard. A warm, possessive groan rumbled from his chest and set a slow burn through my body.
Somewhere, somehow, my mind let out a feeble whimper of protest. Panting, I yanked my head back faster than you could say “break your silly idiot heart.”
Not realising we had gained such an enthusiastic audience, I faltered when my eyes hit the little group that was comprised of Mac, Henry, and Travis. Mac was watching with unconcealed delight. Henry, squinting in his blurry drunken state, appeared no less delighted, and Travis simply looked on with amusement.
Jared groaned. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You shouldn’t have?”
He tugged gently on the rogue strand of hair that broke loose and was currently hiding the disappointment on my face.
“We need to talk, Evie.”
We did?
“We do?”
“You’re moving to Sydney in a week, and I think it’s time that—”
I cut him off quickly, worried about the direction the conversation seemed to be taking. “Actually, it’s time for me to get going.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and shifting around him in a manoeuvre that would impress James Bond, I raced back to the table and picked up my bag.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the table, “but I have to go.”
Panicking because I could feel Jared coming up behind me, I avoided the questioning gaze directed at me by both of my best friends and escaped the building with all the grace of an elephant charging through the scrub, no doubt making a spectacle of myself that had me burning with embarrassment.
Not quite ready to face Jared, or the cavalry, or that kiss, I stayed the night at Cam’s apartment, snapping off a message to Henry to let him know where I was. Not long after, messages came through from both Mac and Jared while I struggled to find sleep.
M: It’s come to my attention after tonight’s events that nothing is more perfect than you and my brother together. I know you, Sandwich. Give it a chance.
When I didn’t reply, because I planned on fighting it with all the arsenal I had at my disposal, her messages became, unsurprisingly, more direct.
M: Sandwich, stop being so retarded and come home.
Then there was Jared.
J: I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t intend to u
pset you. Please talk to me?
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, so I didn’t reply to that either.
A week later, I hadn’t heard from him at all, apart from that one text. I could only conclude that he either thought I was an idiot and decided I wasn’t worth the effort, which I tried to tell myself was a really good thing, or he was waiting for our move to Sydney so he could talk to me face to face.
Now, I found myself surrounded by traitorous bastards formerly known as my friends, wondering if it was going to be the former or the latter and knowing that I would soon find out.
Chapter Three
“Sandwich, the two of you need to talk,” Mac insisted.
Maybe we did but that didn’t mean it was going to happen. Regardless, I tried to curb my irritation with my friends. They meant well and I did appreciate that they wanted to see me happy, but the sooner they realised a relationship with Jared was not in the cards the better.
I heard heavy footfalls on the stairs, followed by Jared appearing in my bedroom doorway. I watched his eyes find Mac first as she bounded off the bed to wrap him in hug and start a rapid fire of questions about what had called him away last night. Henry scooted to the edge of the bed to join the conversation, but my mind tuned out, unable to listen to his answers as my eyes drank him in. His silky hair was damp as though he’d just showered, and he was wearing his usual vintage t-shirt teamed with a pair of low slung cargo shorts.
Jared’s gaze cut to mine as he spoke, his eyes lowering lazily in a full body scan. Glancing down at my scantily clad form, I remembered I was still only wearing my usual night time attire of a thin silk camisole and tiny matching shorts. I owned numerous sets in various colours and patterns, and this one, a deep rose with ivory lace trim, was my favourite. I quickly shifted my bare legs, scooting them back under the heavy white covers and out of sight, before turning a scorching glare his way.
His eyes flickered in amusement, and he grinned at me, revealing a dimple as Henry spoke to him. A dimple! How was I supposed to fight that? I could feel battle lines being drawn.
My mind tuned back in after I’d finished pulling the covers to my chin.
“How did you get in anyway?” Mac asked.
Jared’s frown included all of us. “No one answered the door, and it wasn’t locked. Why the fuck wasn’t the door locked?”
The three of us shared a guilty expression because the cab ride home was a little vague. Frankly, we were lucky the front door was even closed after our hard-earned night of celebration.
I winced when both Mac and Henry mumbled awkwardly obvious excuses and vacated the room. I heard a loud thump that sounded like someone banging into the wall and then the bathroom door slammed shut. It was, no doubt, a skirmish for dibs on the shower which was a regular occurrence in our household, and Henry, the bigger of the three of us, was no gentlemen and usually came out trumps.
My eyes warned Jared that he too should also vacate the room, but he ignored it. Instead, he chose to gift me with another grin and shifted to the end of the bed where he proceeded to slip off his shoes and stretch his long, sexy length out next to me. He turned on his back and tucked his arms under his head to contemplate the ceiling.
“I thought they’d never leave.”
He smelled nice. I pulled the sheet up higher.
“Maybe you should wait for Mac downstairs,” I suggested.
He didn’t respond to my words. He lost his smile and small lines furrowed the middle of his brow.
“You didn’t return my message, Evie.”
He was, of course, referring to the message he’d sent post kiss that I had no idea how to respond to. I itched to pull the sheets up and over my head, but instead, I tried to form a response that came out badly worded.
“That’s because your lips on mine was a colossal mistake, and I wasn’t sure where we should go from that.”
My eyes flickered to his lips, and I tried to shake the feeling that it wasn’t a mistake at all. When I shifted my gaze to meet his, I almost missed the brief flash of hurt he carefully tucked away.
“Well, I can’t say being called a colossal mistake is a nice feeling.”
It wasn’t how I’d meant it to sound, so I tried to explain without giving away too much. “Not you, just you and I together. It was a nice kiss. I just think we work much better as friends.”
Jared’s eyebrows raised as he turned on his side to face me, propping his head on his hand. “Just nice?”
I flushed and the urge to burrow reached critical levels. “Um…” I offered in response. Really, what was I supposed to say? “It was a lip-locking, body-burning, mind-vacating experience like I’d never had in my entire life and please could you just keep kissing me until the end of time?”
“Was this what you wanted to talk about?” I blurted out.
Then I cringed internally for throwing myself into the fire.
Amusement returned and flickered in his eyes as he noted my flushed skin and seemed to like the reaction. “No, but it’s a good start.”
It was?
“It is?”
I shifted the covers down a little so my arms could escape the confines. It was getting hot. Jared took the opportunity to reach out and tuck my hand in his, threading our fingers together. He expanded no further at my question, but his gaze on our linked hands was contemplative.
“Jared?”
He took his time answering, now watching me intently with an expression I wasn’t able to read. “I’m not really sure you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that for me to decide?”
Irritated, I tugged my hand out of his and scooted out of bed, hurrying to my wardrobe to shrug on my silk robe, tying it in knots so tight I thought I might have to get the scissors out later just to get out of it.
When I emerged from the wardrobe, Jared hadn’t moved.
“I need to have a shower, so you know, maybe you should wait downstairs.”
He merely looked at me and pulled the covers up and over his chest, his actions telling me he wasn’t planning on moving anywhere any time soon.
“Evie?” he called out when I turned to leave the room.
I rested my hand against the doorframe and half turned. “Yeah?”
“I’ve missed you. You’ve always been a good friend, even living in another city, it was nice knowing I had you to talk to. Just a random simple message in the middle of the day meant more to me than… Well, anyway, I’ve missed hearing from you, so let’s get back to that okay?”
Because I’d missed it too, I nodded with smile. “Okay,” I agreed.
“Good,” was his response. “Wake me when Mac is ready to leave.”
He closed tired eyes and before I left the room, I tried not to notice how hot he looked all wrapped up in the frilly white confection of my bed, but really, it was a wonder the sheets didn’t catch fire.
* * *
After my shower, during which Mac and Jared left, I hit the kitchen of our duplex to start making the slice. As it was newly renovated, the walls were painted in a stone colour, the cupboards were glossy white and housed big stainless steel appliances. Thick, pale caesarstone benchtops ran the length of the room. It suited my kitchen implements fetish seamlessly. A Breville juicer sat on the counter for when I decided to shock my insides with something healthy. It sat next to my kettle, toaster, and KitchenAid mixer, all in cherry red because everyone knew red was faster.
I came out of the walk-in pantry with an armload of ingredients as Henry stumbled in. I shoved some Panadol at him and took some for myself while I was at it.
He swallowed them gratefully. “Thanks, Evie.”
“Want some breakie? I could annihilate a bacon and egg burger right now.”
Watching Henry flinch and turn green, I realised that he was suffering the effects of the Hangover Stalker. It was when you woke surprised at how great you felt, only to have a shower and start moving around, and then realised you were sl
owly losing the will to live.
I patted his arm in sympathy, but really, this was karma for the stunt he and Mac had pulled on me this morning.
“Maybe later,” he said.
I pulled my cherry red food processor out of the bottom cupboard and sat it on the bench, emptying out the packet of biscuits I’d ripped open.
“Well maybe just a biscuit,” he said, rescuing one from imminent massacre and shovelling it in his face.
I smacked at his hand before proceeding to switch the processor on and watch the biscuits rapidly become a pile of rubble before my eyes.
“You making your slice?” he asked around a mouthful of biscuit.
“Yes I am, Detective Hussy. You coming to the barbecue?”
“Fuck yeah.”
This was not a surprise. Barbecued food was hot on our list of must eat items. I emptied the rubble of biscuits into a bowl and opened a tin of condensed milk.
“Mac said her mum invited half of Sydney last night,” he leaned over to flip on the kettle. “So did you and Jared have the talk?” he asked, obviously wanting the low down on what happened after he and Mac vacated the bedroom.
“There was nothing to talk about.” Well nothing Jared was prepared to talk about until I was ready, but I wasn’t willing to share that little gem with Henry. It would only encourage him.
He rolled his eyes in obvious frustration. “Chook, I may not be Dr. Love, but it’s obvious to even me, the retarded relationship bastard, that you and Jared have a thing.”
This was true, the part about Henry being a retarded relationship bastard. Henry had broken a heart or a million in his time (pick a number somewhere in between) because his struggle with the concept of commitment was an ongoing one. In his defence, he was always upfront about his unwillingness to commit.
He spooned sugar into two mugs as I began to press the biscuit base into the slice pan.
“Henry, does either Wild Renny or Asshole Kellar ring a bell? I’m not going there again.”
“Jared is hardly in the same league as those two losers.”