by Shel Stone
“Yes, they are,” Trish found herself saying. For all intents and purposes, they seemed to be, even if Adelaide confessed some concerns. What Adelaide couldn’t hide was the way she smiled when she let herself forget, like right now, when Quentin whispered something in her ear and she smiled broadly, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Young love. Isn’t it adorable?” Hannah said a little wistfully. “Speaking of, young Cory there is checking you out.”
Trish refused to look. What the hell was he doing checking her out? She couldn’t help flushing, suddenly feeling his eyes on her. Damn it. Without being able to help herself, she had a small look and he was standing along the edge by the corner, a beer in hand, the thumb of his other hand tucked inside his pocket. Even for being such a douche, she still found him attractive. Disturbingly, maybe even more so because he was a douche, in some fatally stupid self-destructive way girls sometimes found bastards irresistible. Trish had never thought she’d fall for that crap, but the blush travelling up her body said different. “Don’t care,” Trish said. “Been there, done that.”
“That’s the spirit,” Hannah said, mock punching her in the arm. “He’s still watching, though.”
Trish wondered if she should leave, but refused to be chased away. He wasn’t even her ex, just some guy she’d hooked up with a couple of times. There was absolutely no reason to get all dumbstruck about it. Instead, she turned, to resolutely keep her back towards him. Maybe she needed to turn her attention to some other guy, firmly move on. Problem was, there was no one here she was remotely interested in and she certainly wasn’t into creating drama. No, she was resolutely single and should probably accept that she was going to stay that way—unless some really hot and emotionally stable guy came along, she smiled to herself.
Chapter 54
AS THE NIGHT WENT ON, the sofa group at the far side of the bar was vacated and Quentin pulled Adelaide along to claim it. They’d been standing and he could use some privacy away from Adelaide’s friends. They were alright, in a way completely different from his own friends, but on some levels exactly the same. There was a hell of a lot more talk of sports, and blessedly, not a single mention of some designer’s latest collection. They were also travel obsessed, and interested in the most mundane things that only tourists do, but then they were tourists in essence.
The American bartender he’d met would probably enjoy meeting up with a bunch of people like this, all out of place here, treating this like a transitory state. They had no future here any of them, including Adelaide. She was one of them, here to make a little money, party and travel around Europe, with no intention of establishing roots. They would all leave this place behind when they felt like it.
“You want another drink?” Quentin asked as he sat down, Adelaide joined him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He liked that they were away from the others, had a bit of time to themselves, knowing in his heart that this wasn’t quite settled. She hadn’t relented and she wasn’t entirely his, able to slip away from here without a look back, just like her friends.
“No, I’m alright,” she said with a smile. He loved it when she smiled. Serotonin released in his brain when she smiled. Pulling her closer, he placed a kiss on her forehead, taking in her scent with closed eyes.
“I’m fucking in love with you,” he admitted out loud. It was a statement to himself as much to her.
“Quentin,” she said, her hand stroking across his stomach, and he wished they were somewhere a lot more private. She looked up at him, and he noted full well that she didn’t say the same back, not that he really expected her to. It was the truth, though, and he might just have got himself into a situation where he wanted the girl more than she wanted him. It had been that way from the start. She had reticently followed his lead, but this whole relationship had been his doing, his insistence. He smiled, feeling the bitterness of the realisation.
Reaching up, he stroked his thumb down the side of her face. He needed to know where she was with all this.
“I’m in love with you and I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with confusion.
“Aren’t you?”
She was silent for a moment, tucking her head into his shoulder. “You know we’re a mess,” she said after a while.
“I’m a mess. You’re the only thing about this whole situation that makes sense. The issues we have are all superficial.”
“They’re not, though. They’re like core to what we are.”
“What we do is not core to what we are. Okay, so you dance in a club. That’s what you like to do. So what?”
“I’m never going to be one of those girls like Aggie.”
“I don’t want a girl like Aggie.”
“You want a girl that fits in. And that’s just not me.”
“Those girls are ninety-nine percent bullshit, and the other percent is plastic. The ratio shifts as they get older.” It was true, the whole structure of their value systems was geared to inconsequential crap. Even Aggie, who he did adore, existed on a foundation of bullshit. Her competitiveness and the underlying concern over status. Felix with his persistent discontent. They were all just lost, living on drama and gossip, brutally cutting anyone who stepped out of line, or tried to intrude on their rarefied social circle. The jibes at Adelaide had been to enforce that exclusivity, when they were bored shitless in their exalted clique. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life in that endless circle.”
“Of plastic surgery?” Adelaide said, confused, and Quentin smiled, realising he was having a conversation half internally.
“No, I’m just saying I want out. I need to get out.” His mind turned to the boring parties his parents went to, where the people of Marbella showed off their jewels, homes, boats, whatever. This endless race was where he would stay, just like his parents did. It never stopped—choosing their vacations in the hot ‘it’ spots, so they could be seen, never dreaming of going to Amsterdam to do totally cheesy and banal things like hanging out and smoking pot. He hadn’t realised there was an option to just walk away. And not like the loser option for kids that stop functioning, got an addition and spent decades going in and out of rehab. No, he was going to go for it, prove that he could become his own person in the world, and do so without losing all his life in a boardroom. Fuck it, he had nothing to lose—nothing worth losing.
“Out of what?” Adelaide asked.
“Out of the bullshit. Out of giving a shit what you do for your job. And I am going to actually get a job myself.”
“You, work?” she said sceptically. “You know you actually have to get up in the mornings.”
Quentin smiled. He probably had that coming. “You should have more faith in me,” he said. “I am going to work, and I am going to earn enough to provide you with anything you want.”
“I am capable of working myself, you know. And I pay my rent just fine.”
Swinging his arm around her, he pulled her close. “I have to go back to Indonesia,” he said. “That’s where I have to be. I am going to build a fucking town, and blaze my own path.” Adelaide looked at him. He was pretty sure she didn’t quite know what this meant. “I have to set out on my own and I have to do that in Indonesia.” The faithlessness in which he’d treated the opportunities was melting away. It had all seemed too hard, being away from his friends and the social circle had made him reticent to go for it, but if he was actually becoming independent, he had to cut the apron strings and do it. “I have to.” It was also the worst possible time, trying to establish something with Adelaide, but also needing to leave town. He wasn’t going to be what she needed if he stayed. It was a risk he had to take.
“Why Indonesia?” she finally asked, surveying him.
“I need a bit of a new frontier. Things are too established here in Europe; I’d never be able to crack the surface.”
“Okay,” she said, taking his words at face value. Aggie or one of those girls would have completely p
outed now. What interest did they have in some backwater, no-name village with high ambition in remote Indonesia?
“But see, there’s just this one problem.”
“What?”
“How can I go slog through the jungles in the Far East when I’m concerned my girl is going to slip through my fingers if I loosen my grip?”
Her eyebrows rose and her head tilted disbelievingly. “Are you actually going to emotionally blackmail me into being your girlfriend?”
“Absolutely, anything that works.”
She pinched him in the gut, taking it as a joke, when underneath the joviality, he was deadly serious. How could he run off to Indonesia when he didn’t have her anchored back here? It sounded brutal, even to him, but it was the truth of how he was feeling. He needed her to be secure. Letting her slip away wasn’t an option. There was only so much he was willing to cut himself loose from; he needed one anchor. He had her enthralled with sex and snuggling, and just being together, but she wasn’t secure. Although he knew full well she’d run a mile if he even brought up the marriage idea. Things used to be so easy to secure a girl in the past, just whip out a ring and done. Now things were more complicated, although he would seriously consider the ring option if it had been available.
“Come with me,” he said quietly.
“To Indonesia?”
“Yes.”
He could see her frown and now he was concerned it had been too much, too soon. But it was what he wanted. “Foreign country, just exploring, you and me.”
“Some backwater village without running water?”
“It will have when I’m done with it.”
She smiled. “Are you slightly insane, Quentin Cartright?” Yes, and the reason was sitting here with her arms around him. She literally made him move mountains, or he would soon, in Indonesia.
“Let’s go explore.” Her eyes flicked between his and considering his seriousness, which meant that it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility. He had a chance to convince her and that was all he needed. “Come check it out anyway,” and then not leave, he neglected to mention. “How often do you get a chance to go to the jungle?”
He knew full well it wasn’t the fundamental question. This was all a proxy for the question he wanted to ask, but wasn’t. Will you commit to exploring us, was what he was really asking and her answer right now held a lot of weight.
“Is this just some arse-backwards way of getting me to give up my job?”
“I don’t give a damn about the job,” he said as earnestly as he could. “I have to spend a lot of time in Indonesia if I’m going to do this and I don’t want to be without you. Is the job worth giving me up for?” Suddenly he was concerned. Did she value him so little that she wouldn’t dump a minimum wage job to be with him if he had to move across half the world? Was asking her to come too much?
Painful tenterhooks had him as he waited for her to respond. Was this just some way to pass time for her? Had he read this all wrong?
“Indonesia?” she said, pausing further.
God, put me out of my misery, girl, he wanted to say.
“Okay.”
“For real?” he said with surprise.
She nodded. “I’ll like teach English or something. There’s an organisation that places people to do that. My cousin did it in China for a year.”
In a rush, he kissed her, again wishing they were somewhere more private. And there it was, how a deal was done. This might be his most important deal ever. Now he just had to worry about not screwing it up. He almost wished they were already there, stuck together in that hotel in Jakarta, just the two of them.
“Do you think Trish can find her own way home?” he said breathily. There were things he needed to do and Trish would not be welcome.
“She’ll probably go into town with the others anyway,” Adelaide said between kisses that were deepening by the second. They had to get out of there or they would be putting on a show.
“Let’s go,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her up, heading for the door before people noticed the state he was in.
“Trish is going to kill me,” Adelaide said sheepishly as they got in his car. “We just moved in and now I’m gonna run off to Indonesia. She’s going to be less than impressed, but then it was her that’s been pushing for me to give you another chance.”
“Is that so?” Quentin said, having no idea that Trish was for their relationship. “We can keep the apartment if you want.”
“I don’t know. That might be even worse. I don’t think Trish wants to live by herself. I’m sure something will work out.”
Again Quentin thought of the American girl, wondering if she needed somewhere to stay. She seemed like a daring girl. She and Trish might get on like a house on fire. He didn’t know why he felt like helping that girl. It wasn’t as if he was interested in her or anything; he was just impressed that she’d set out alone and managed to survive. Maybe he’d give the catering company a dial, see if he could get hold of her. Although she’d probably assume he had slimy intentions.
His hand settled on her thigh as he drove. It seemed to want to rest there of late. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Adelaide nodded, looking over at him. “This isn’t something I agree to lightly. I’ve thought of nothing else over the last week or so. I know what I’m taking on. You better not hurt me.”
“I won’t,” he said, leaning over for a kiss. Endorphins surged through his brain. He had to stop doing that while driving.
Chapter 55
CORY SHOULD BE GOING to the bar for another beer, but he wasn’t moving from his spot. Adelaide and her guy had just left looking all cuddly, which meant Trish had lost her ride. That was one thing he could help her with, feeling a bit like a knight coming to the rescue.
Running his teeth along his lower lip, he decided to get himself another beer. He walked past Nathan, who was now unstable. It was going to be a messy end to this night. No doubt Chrissy would kick up a stink at some point and it would all quickly devolve. But for now, everyone seemed happy and was getting along.
Trish looked good, standing further down the bar, chatting with her friends. She was ignoring him with resolution. He understood why, but he also had trouble keeping his eyes off her, still not knowing what it was about her that caught his attention so completely, but his eyes moved to her pert little arse without him being fully aware of it.
She wasn’t there when he got back from the bar, beer in hand. Looking around the bar, he couldn’t find her. Had she gone while his back was turned? Disappointment seared through him, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what his expectations were. She hated his guts, and he couldn’t entirely blame her.
Nathan was down on the grass outside the bar, bent over, retching. Probably a good thing. Chrissy was running around in panic mode, while the other guys were laughing. Someone losing their nerve was still funny, and Nathan was now past bringing anything up, onto dry heaving until his stomach caught up with the fact that there was nothing left to expel.
Blond hair caught his eye and he could see Trish further down on the beach, taking a breather. Seeing her on her own gave him a boost of excitement. Now was his chance to talk to her, maybe offer her a ride home at the end of the night. He had no expectations it would be more. He wanted to do something with her, even if just driving her home.
He took the stairs down and passed Nathan who was finally pulling himself together. The sand was soft and cool under his feet as he moved from the grass to the beach. Trish was sitting with her legs crossed, her blond hair like a curtain, swaying in the light breeze. His throat dried as he approached and he took another sip of his beer.
“Hey,” he said and Trish looked up at him. A slight frown crossed her brow for a second. He hated seeing that reaction.
“Hey,” she said back.
“They’re getting a bit wasted, aren’t they?”
“And you’re not?”
“Taking it easy. Driving
tonight.” He sat down next to her. So far, so good. She hadn’t flounced off in a huff, so a vast improvement in their relations. He leaned back on his elbow, twisting the bottom of his beer into the sand. “Adelaide is back with that guy, I see.”
“Seems so,” she said, looking down into her lap, where she was snapping a twig into pieces.
Now he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to know if things were alright between them, uncomfortable with the fact that she disliked what he’d done, but he didn’t know how to say it. If he was completely honest, there was part of him that wanted a little more than just alright. She had never quite faded from his thoughts and that meant something. “I’m sorry for how things went before.”
She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she was listening.
“It wasn’t my intention—”
“What were your intentions?” she cut in, finally looking at him.
He shrugged. What could he say? Maybe this tack had been a mistake. “I just never intended for things to get complicated.”
“Just a simple guy, aren’t you?”
He wasn’t quite sure what she intended with that statement. She might still be pissed off, ready to hold a grudge forever. He would certainly think less of her if she did. It wasn’t as though they ever officially had anything going. “We weren’t ever an item,” he said.
“No,” she conceded.
“I just want things to be cool between us.”
“Things are cool. I never said they weren’t.”
And there he had it. They were cool. Cory smiled and she gave a tight smile in return. “Good. You’re still an awesome girl and I’d like us to at least be friends if possible.”
She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
“I sometimes wonder what we could have become if I hadn’t … messed things up,” he said, knowing he was going out on thin ice here, but there was also truth to this statement. It was an idea that had preyed on his mind for a while—a thought that snuck in at the oddest times. “Sometimes I wonder if I screwed up a real chance for myself.”