Reveal (A Wild Nights Novel)

by K. M. Golland

  We leaned forward and met mid-table for a kiss, his hands finding the sides of my face and holding me tenderly. I swear that no kiss was ever the same, as every moment that led to it differed. Thoughts, feelings and intent all shaped a kiss to be what it would be. A kiss was a story, told only by physical emotion, and the story Brad and I currently narrated was that of a new beginning.

  Our new beginning.

  Our lips separated. His nose gently nudged mine, and we both pulled back and settled in our seats.

  “So we’re doin’ this … this ‘us’ thing, yeah?” he asked, resting his fork prongs on the last tomato on his plate.

  I flicked my sight to it and grinned greedily. “Yeah, we’re doin it. Right after you feed me that.”

  He pressed his fork into the tomato, bursting it and spraying tomato seeds all over my arm and chest.

  I sat there, stunned, staring at the tomato blow I was wearing. “Er … did that tomato just blow on me?” To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of wearing blow. Any blow. Not even tomato-blow.

  “Here,” he said, shoving the seedless tomato in my mouth. “It’s done. We’re doin’ it. You’re mine.”

  I looked up while chewing my new mouthful, but he deliberately looked down, avoiding my gaze, his shoulders wracking with silent laughter. Yeah, it’s definitely done. And, you, my sexy, tomato-squirting surfer, are all mine.

  ***

  Shortly after Brad and I’d left the beachside café, we’d returned to the hotel only to find Cori incredibly hungover and sick with Josh by her side, holding her hair away from her face while she vomited into the toilet. She’d always been a terrible drinker and even worse at recovery. I didn’t know why she continually insisted on emotional-drinking in the first place, as she always suffered for it. Regardless, I’d hated seeing her so miserable, so Brad and I had headed back out to pick her up some remedies—a Big Mac and large Coke.

  It hadn’t worked.

  Made her vomit even more.

  That had been our cue to leave her to sleep it off, so we spent the rest of the day by the pool.

  “What time are rehearsals?” I asked, performing suntan-rotation number-four by rolling onto my stomach.

  Brad rolled to his side and rested his head on his hand, propped up by his elbow. “Just under an hour away. Why? You want a quickie before I go?” He slowly trailed his finger up the back of my leg. It tickled.

  “No.” I squirmed and giggled but then gave him my not-so-serious serious face. “My vagina is sleeping and is known to be quite dangerous when woken unexpectedly.”

  “I’m sure she won’t mind me waking her.”

  “Actually, I reckon you’re right. I think she likes you.”

  “Likes me? She fucking loves me. Did you not see how tight she held onto me after lunch? She didn’t want to let go.”

  “Well, you did make her very happy … twice.”

  “She deserved it.”

  “Look, you could try waking her, but remember, I did warn you.”

  “Warning noted. Let’s go!” He jumped up quickly and swung his towel over his shoulders.

  I looked up, shielding the sun from my eyes. “I was kidding.”

  “I wasn—”

  My phone chimed Cori’s message tone, interrupting us. I swiped it open to find a series of sad faces.

  Cori:

  “This can’t be good,” I said aloud before typing back to her.

  Em: Someone is happy!

  Cor: Ha ha. I feel awful.

  Em: Did awful like it?

  Cori: Stop it. I really do feel shit.

  Em: Now that’s just disgusting.

  We can’t be friends if you do that.

  She didn’t answer me, so I stopped fooling around with her and quickly sent her another message.

  Em: Okay. I’m sorry. You’re feeling crap.

  But honestly, what did you expect?

  Cori: I didn’t expect this. This is horrible.

  Worse than horrible.

  This is horrible piggybacking terrible.

  No, this is horrible piggybacking terrible,

  riding horrific while holding hands with horrendous.

  Em: So basically, you’re fucked.

  Cori: Yes. I can’t go tonight.

  I can’t even stand without getting the shits.

  Em: I have a butt plug that might help.

  Brad cracked up laughing.

  I looked up at him and shielded my eyes once again. “Are you reading my messages?”

  “Yes. That last one was good.”

  “Stop it. They’re private.”

  “Not really. I can see them from here.”

  I grred at him just as Cori responded.

  Cori: No thanks. I’ll pass.

  It’s a war zone in there.

  Em: Right. We need a ceasefire.

  I’ll be up shortly with supplies.

  Cori: If you bring any more McDonald’s,

  I’ll McFucking throw it at you.

  Em: Have faith.

  I’ve got it covered.

  Closing my phone, I pushed to my hands and knees then stood up, turning to Brad and resting my hands on his arse cheeks. “I’m gonna have to give you a raincheck on waking my vagina. I am required for best friend duties. See you after the show?”

  “I’m counting on it. And you better be ready when I get back, because you’re sleeping with me tonight.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “No PJs required.”

  “Deal,” I said, smiling.

  He chuckled. “Deal.”

  We were good at making deals.

  ***

  Armed with Hydralyte, Gastro-Stop, and a banana, I swiped my room key and opened the door, walking smack-bang into a wall of hangover stench. It burned my freakin’ nostrils.

  “Cori, Jesus fuck! What have you given birth to?” I covered my nose with the crook of my elbow and placed my items on the small bench-top above the mini bar.

  Scanning the curtain-drawn, darkened room, I found Cori sprawled out like a starfish on her bed, wearing what I assumed was one of Josh’s tank tops, and her blonde hair all kinds of matted. “Leave me alone,” she groaned.

  “You need breathable air in order to sustain life, yeah? Why haven’t you opened the balcony door?”

  Walking to said door, I yanked the curtain open and unlatched the lock, sliding the glass panels away from each other and allowing fresh, clean-ish Gold Coast air to relieve the sting in my nose.

  “It’s too noisy with the door open.”

  “Oh shut up. It is not.”

  She groaned again. “You’re so mean.”

  “And you’re so your own worst enemy. Now sit up and drink some of this electrolyte stuff I bought you.” I reluctantly headed back into the room and fetched her the drink. “Once you’ve stomached some of that, you can take a shit-stop tablet and eat a potassium rod.”

  Cori slowly rolled to her side and sat upright, slumping like a ragdoll. “I suck.”

  “Yeah, ya do.” I handed her the drink, and a small smile registered on her sickly pale face.

  “You got me blackcurrant flavour?”

  I nodded.

  “I love you, Emily Davis.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  She took a sip. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me.” Another sip. “I know it’s your last day.” Sip. “And you’re stuck in here with me.” Sip. Sip.

  “I’m not angry at you because I’m stuck in this stinky hotel room. I’m concerned over how easily you drowned your sorrows because of a tiff with Josh. And apparently, it wasn’t the first time.”

  “No. It was the third,” she admitted, her tone matter-of-fact.

  Lowering myself to sit on the edge of the bed, I took her hand in mine. “Cor, you can’t punish yourself like this every time shit hits the fan with Josh. If anything, the shit deflects and lands right back on you.”

  “I know. He’s not talking to me.”

  “I thought he spent most of th
e day here with you?” I questioned, worried she’d been here on her own.

  “Yeah, he did. He just didn’t talk to me.”

  “Oh!” I scrunched my face.

  “He showered me and everything, but not one word.” She sipped her drink again, this time taking in more. “He’s such a stubborn prick. It infuriates me.”

  “I’m guessing you infuriate him, too.”

  “Ya think?” she said, sarcastically.

  “So deal with it … without getting shitfaced.”

  We commenced a stare-a-thon, Cori sipping, and me … just staring.

  She looked away.

  I won.

  “So how was your day with Brad?”

  “Good. We’re kinda a ‘thing’,” I said, casually.

  “What? Really?” Either the Hydralyte or news of my sex life had put colour back in her cheeks, because they’d developed a nice tint of pink again.

  “Yeah. How’d we put it … we’re doin’ it. I’m his and he’s mine.”

  “I knew it! I knew the two of you would hit it off. You’re just perfect for each other.”

  “Nobody is perfect, Cor,” I said, standing up and heading to the bathroom. “Least of all me.”

  “Well, no. You certainly aren’t. But the two of you complement each other really well,” she called out.

  “I was actually just thinking that today,” I called back, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I needed a quick shower and to get out of my bathing suit. “We do complement each other. It’s nice. But everyone has flaws, ya know? We haven’t discovered one another’s yet. Who knows what will happen when we do.”

  Removing the mesh one-piece from my body, I screamed with horror. “No! Oh my God, no! No no no no nooooooo.”

  “What?” Cori yelled. “Em, what’s wrong?” She came bursting into the bathroom.

  I met her stare in the reflection of the mirror, our eyes wide, her hand pressed to her chest, the colour of her face back to its pasty shade of white and mine burning red with embarrassment.

  “Oh. That’s not good. Did you not put sunscreen on?”

  I glanced down at the geometric suntan I now sported across my midriff. “Yes. Of course I did. Fuck! I should’ve put on more.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  I met her gaze again. “This is all your fault, you know.”

  “Mine? Why? I’ve been sick in my room all day. How’s it my fault?”

  “You told me to get this stupid swimsuit, and now I look like a fucking human Art Deco piece.”

  Cori burst into laughter and covered her mouth.

  “Oh, I’m glad you find it funny. I’m also glad you’re feeling better.”

  “Come on, it is a little funny. And at least now Brad can see one of your flaws sooner rather than later.”

  “Oh shit! I’m staying with him tonight.”

  She bit her lip and shrugged. “Looks like it’s lights out for the two of you then.”

  Yes, it does.

  ***

  Cori and I had spent the evening watching Pitch Perfect and Pitch Perfect 2. She’d fallen asleep just before midnight, so I’d taken the opportunity to log into the SexyTexts interface to get a couple of hours’ work done. I hadn’t been able to sneak in much sexting while visiting Cori, due to barely having any time alone, so I used the impromptu opportunity given to me and hit it hard, answering as many texts as briefly as I possibly could, because that was how professional sexting worked—except the trick was to answer in a way that had them asking for more. The more they asked, the more I could deliver. The more I delivered, the more I got paid. It was as simple at that.

  Yet it wasn’t that simple.

  Brad and Josh had knocked on our door just after midnight, which was timed perfectly, as I’d not long logged off. The exchange between us had been quick, Josh wanting sleep and Brad wanting me back in his room faster than I could blink.

  “Get that sexy little arse of yours inside,” he said, happily opening the door to his room.

  I raised an eyebrow and sashayed past, copping a harsh but delightful slap on my butt.

  “Hey,” I objected, but was stopped when soft hands found the skin of my hips, and the wall behind met my back and my fingertips.

  Brad’s firm, demanding body encased me and held me tight, his lips crashing onto mine and stealing not only my breath but also my ability to function. Wow! Where am I? Who am I? And what am I doing?

  He was a magician—that was what he was. His mouth and hands and what he could do with them, a spell cast upon me. He left me delirious, tranced, and putty in his hands.

  The man fucking abracadabra’d me.

  “Been thinkin’ ’bout you and that pretty little arse and pussy all night long,” he said, pulling back and resting his forehead against mine, his dirty words touching every part of my aching body.

  My eyelids fluttered open, and I smiled leisurely. “And what were your thoughts?”

  “Fuck the thoughts. Let me show you.” His mouth moved to my neck and devoured that sweet spot just above my collarbone.

  I cried out. My eyes rolled back, and everything went black.

  Black, but bursting with light.

  The feeling of uncertainty when it settled deep within your chest was about as comfortable as a pair of undies three sizes too small. Constrictive. Tight. Cutting off air, or blood, or your will to live. Okay, maybe not that severe. But there was no denying it was pretty fucking uncomfortable, and couple it with an overwhelming sense of possible finality, the dread over ‘what next?’ was near excruciating.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go back home,” Cori whined, hugging me tight as we stood at my departure gate. “I’ve enjoyed having another vagina in this cock-forest I walk in.”

  “Stop complaining. It’s a good, wholesome cock-forest, containing only cocks of the highest quality. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  She giggled into my shoulder and whispered, “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Lay off the alcohol. If you have to, use it to tip over his head or something.”

  “I will. Or to set the fucker on fire.”

  “Cori!” I pulled back and playfully hit her on the arm.

  “Kidding. He’s too good in bed to want to damage like that.”

  “Who are you, and where has my best friend gone?”

  “She’s still here. She’s just … a little different.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “I’m fine. Now go, or you’ll miss your plane.”

  I gave her another quick squeeze and let go.

  “Safe flight, Em,” Josh said, stepping up to us and pulling Cori to his side before giving me an awkward smile.

  I wrapped one arm around his neck and hugged him, also using the opportunity to leave him with a friendly parting message within a message. “Thanks, Josh, I will,” I said, changing my voice to a hushed whisper. “Oh, and look after her, or I’ll hunt you down and rip you a fucking new one.” I pulled back, smiling sweetly. “Okay! It was lovely meeting you.”

  The poor guy looked as if he’d been slapped with a seal, so I winked, adding to my psycho-best-friend charade, which wasn’t really a charade, but kinda was. Yes, I’m evil.

  Turning to face Brad, I dropped my bag on the floor by our feet when he placed his hands on either side of my face, his eyes scanning mine somewhat sadly. I furrowed my brow and went to ask him what was wrong, but he kissed me and stole my words before I’d the chance to use them.

  There was a mild desperation to his kiss, but not the type we’d been accustomed to since hooking up. No. This time, it was a kiss laced with goodbye, a kiss that begged don’t go. And that uncertain, undies-too-small feeling from moments ago eased up a little.

  “I’m gonna fucking miss you,” he said, holding my face a little firmer.

  I searched his tortured eyes. “I’ll miss you, too. But we can call, text, and even video chat. It won’t be that bad.”

  “Can I taste, feel, or smell y
ou using any of those methods?”

  I shook my head and tried to look down but his firm grip wouldn’t allow it.

  “Then yeah, it’s gonna be that bad. Two months, Em. Two. Fucking. Months.”

  Lifting my hands, I placed them on the collar of his polo shirt, fixing its placement. “It doesn’t have to be that long. Cori mentioned last night that the revue is due to have another short break when you get to Darwin in four weeks’ time. Didn’t you, Cori?” I turned toward her, fighting Brad’s hold on my face.

  “Yeah. I’m flying back to Melbourne—”

  “You are?” Josh asked, clearly unaware of her plans.

  “Yeah. Had you been talking to me this morning, I would’ve mentioned it to you.”

  He glared, and so did she, but she continued, “Anyway, Josh, if you’ve forgiven me by then, I was going to see if you wanted to fly back with me.”

  I turned back to Brad, leaving Cori and Josh to discuss their shit. “Maybe you could come visit as well … if you want to?”

  His eyes shot up to his right, as if to assess the information I’d just given him, and his perfect lips pouted minutely. I wanted to kiss them again. Then I wanted to lick his freckle and eye crinkle and—

  Nodding to himself, his pout morphed into one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen before he answered, “Deal.”

  I burst into laughter and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Deal. See you in four weeks.”

  ***

  My flight home and taxi from the airport took just less than two hours. And although I missed Cori and Brad so much already, there was nothing like coming home, nothing like opening the front door and smelling the subtleness of stale air.

  It was very … er … welcoming.

  Walking along the hallway to my bedroom dotted with photographs of local landmarks that Cori had taken, my flip-flops slapped over the polished hardwood floors, echoing throughout the apartment. There was no such thing as silence at our place. In fact, there was no such thing as silence in our apartment building. You could hear everything. And I meant everything.