Without replying, she flipped open her drawing pad, grabbed a pencil, and started sketching something, her gaze shifting from the pad to the horizon then back again.
I stared at the ocean, wondering where she went to when she slipped away like that.
9
Her
It wasn’t even nine a.m., but I was already up and dressed, sitting on the couch and working on my drawing as I waited for Billy to come out of the main bathroom.
I figured it’d be polite to tell him I was leaving.
He finally walked out after his routine twenty-minute morning shower, the towel wrapped loosely around his hips. On seeing me, his eyes bulged with surprise, and he clutched the towel tighter across his body.
Obviously, he hadn’t expected to see me up and ready this early.
Water cascaded down the ridges of his sculpted abs, making his silky olive skin twinkle, making him look a little too inviting. Heat flushed my cheeks, and I didn’t know where to look.
‘I’ve got an appointment today,’ I said, only partially lying. I had no intention of going to my appointment at the hospital with the cardiologist. ‘Lillian said she’d pick me up, but can you please let her know I’m happy to go on my own?’
‘Sure.’
He leaned against the doorjamb to take the pressure off his foot, holding so firmly onto his towel that his bicep flexed.
My heart skipped.
‘Thanks. I’ll get going then.’
I’d said that except my legs wouldn’t move, and no matter where I looked, my eyes kept finding their way back to Billy.
His skin looked so touchable.
‘Okay … I’m off,’ I said again, trying to convince myself to leave.
Just above his right hip, going vertically up toward his underarm, was a tattoo. I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed it before. I also couldn’t make out what it was.
‘It’s not in English,’ he said, having noticed me studying it.
Clutching his towel, Billy limped toward me. As his semi-naked body got closer, my pulse beat faster until I heard it drumming in my ears. Soft hairs peppered between his nipples, thickening around his belly button. My gaze tried to follow the trail of hair going down to his groin, but I somehow managed to stop myself.
‘The tattoo,’ he repeated, standing so close I needed to swallow. ‘It’s in Arabic.’
Was that the language he and his family spoke? I didn’t want to ask, and I didn’t want to assume. People got tattoos in foreign languages all the time, languages that had nothing to do with them.
‘What does it say?’
He didn’t blink. ‘Hadha maktub. It means this is written. In the destiny sense.’
It was as if I’d forgotten how to breathe, and I couldn’t turn away from him. I didn’t want to turn away from him.
This time, Billy broke the connection first. ‘You drew this?’ he asked.
I looked to see what he was referring to, and nearly gasped.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’d been so distracted I hadn’t realized I’d left my drawing pad open on the coffee table.
‘Yes.’
He picked up my drawing pad and studied the image for much longer than I was comfortable with him doing. Just as I was about to snatch it from him, he spoke.
‘You really did this?’
I nodded.
It had been on one of the rare nights last week that I’d sat in the living room instead of my bedroom, Billy had been reading at the table; I was sitting on the sofa, drawing. The late afternoon light filtering through the kitchen window had highlighted the planes of his face, and it was then that I’d realized just how beautiful he really was. Beautiful, just like Lillian.
I’d needed to draw him. His expression had shifted a million times that night, subtle changes that only someone who was studying him would’ve noticed—the slight twitch of his chin, the concentration that creased soft lines around his forehead. The way his lips kicked up into a smile whenever he read something funny.
Billy wasn’t catalog-model good-looking. He was the kind of guy who’d make you do a double-take when you first saw him because there was something about him that caught your eye, but you couldn’t be sure of what it was. His long, dark lashes defined his piercing dark-brown eyes. His lips were full and inviting, and his smile was always a little cautious. He had a chiseled jaw, but it wasn’t hard like stone. And his skin. That was not a gift from the sun. That was a gift from the Gods.
‘This is really good, Lucy,’ he said, placing the drawing pad back onto the coffee table.
I cleared my throat. ‘Thanks.’
‘No, I mean it. Really good.’
The burning in my cheeks told me I was bright red, and I had to look away, only looking back at him when my face no longer felt like it was on fire.
‘You need to do something with your talent,’ he added.
My shoulders sank inwards, and I let out a half-hearted laugh. ‘Drawing is hardly a talent. Anyone can draw.’
‘You haven’t played Pictionary with my family.’
Closing the gap between us, Billy cupped my shoulders and straightened them, making me stand taller. ‘You have a gift. And when you have a talent like this, Lucy, you use it.’
Somehow, I knew I had been drawing my entire life. But looking into Billy’s eyes, hearing the sincerity and confidence in his voice, I thought that maybe—just maybe—my ability was something special.
A kid cried in front of me. A brazen seagull had swooped down and snatched whatever the kid had been eating straight from his pudgy fingers. I sat on the steps at Circular Quay, drawing the whole thing. In my reality, the seagull was a beast the size of a high-rise building. The kid, in all his tubby glory, was still the size of a kid.
Tyler threw his hand up when he saw me, and I shut my drawing pad. We were matching in black t-shirts, black jeans and sneakers. Except his t-shirt had Slayer splashed across the front.
What was with Tyler and eighties metal bands?
He offered me a crooked smile. ‘Hey.’
In the sunlight, his blue eyes were as bright and vivid as a pristine reef. Something tickled my belly, and I smiled hesitantly back at him.
‘Hey.’
A police siren sounded from a distance, and my entire body stiffened.
‘Listen, Tyler—’
‘You wanna go somewhere quieter? Somewhere that feels a little less “city”?’
I couldn’t help my smile. ‘Exactly.’
‘The botanic gardens are just a short walk away.’
I nodded with relief, then followed his lead across the boardwalk to a road. Traffic was relentless, and we needed to wait for the right moment to cross. Pain pinched my chest, and my stomach clenched. I was petrified of crossing the road.
I inhaled a shaky breath. ‘How can you stand living in the city?’
Tyler studied the rise and fall of my chest, then took hold of my hand like it was nothing.
‘I don’t live in Sydney. I live in a smaller town up north,’ he said, squeezing onto my hand as he led me across the road.
A bus sped past, and I flinched. Tyler squeezed harder.
It was just what I needed.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘Havin’ a holiday.’
Even though we’d crossed the road, Tyler didn’t let go of my hand.
‘What do you do for work?’ I asked, slipping my fingers out of his.
‘I work from home, buying and selling records.’
My eyes widened. ‘As in real records, like vinyl?’
‘Yep.’ He appeared stupidly proud of himself.
‘Is that why you think you’re an authority on good music?’
We followed a path that led to a beautiful wrought-iron gate and walked through it, strolling between colorful, flowering shrubs. I exhaled. The garden was a small slice of peaceful heaven in a manic city. Tyler led me to a shaded spot on a hill, sat under a giant tree, knees up, arms wrapped a
round them, and gave me a coy smile.
Right ahead was a spectacular view of the opera house.
‘I don’t think I’m an authority on good music. I know I am,’ he teased.
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever.’ I laughed.
I sank into the green lawn. Taking off my sneakers and socks, I pressed my toes into the grass and relished the cool sensation against my skin. Tourists, picnickers, and families filled the gardens, but unlike the city outside the gates, the expanse of greenery made being around so many people bearable.
‘So why Sydney then?’ I asked. ‘There are so many other places you could’ve chosen to holiday.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s different, I guess.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘What’s happening with your memory anyway? Have the police said anything?’
My muscles seized every time Tyler talked about my memory.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to them yet. I don’t want to speak to them.’
He laughed, a deep belly laugh that left me confused.
‘Geez, Me—’ He stopped laughing and his face contorted into an expression I couldn’t read.
‘Geez … what?’ I prompted.
He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head, his words coming out stilted. ‘I was just gonna say … geez, I’d be bursting with questions if I were you.’
How could I explain it to him, that I was terrified of discovering who I was?
‘I’ll find out who I am eventually,’ I said instead.
My apparent nonchalance had him shaking his head. ‘I guess you must know some things about yourself. I mean, you’re pretty confident about the kind of music you like.’
‘Exactly. Some things just exist, deep inside you.’
‘Like knowing that metal music is shit?’
‘I never said it was shit. I said I preferred something more mellow.’
He laughed, and I found myself laughing with him.
‘Do you like working from home?’ I asked, returning to our original conversation.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Do people still buy vinyl?’
‘Sure do. It’s a niche market, but there’s a solid group of staunch collectors out there, and it pays a decent living if you know what to look for.’ His eyes lit up. ‘There’s nothing like finding a rare record. It’s where I make most of my money. I throw it up for auction, and the hardcore collectors go crazy.’
The passion in his voice left me grinning.
‘If you do so well, why don’t you open a store?’
‘Because I hate being around people. This way, I work on my own. I don’t need to see anyone.’
I wiggled my toes in the grass and peered idly at the sun shimmering on the surface of the water, mumbling the reply more to myself than to Tyler. ‘I get that.’
He grabbed my left arm suddenly, turning it so he could study my scars. I tried to pull my arm away, but he tightened his grip.
He laughed. ‘People will think you’ve been trying to off yourself.’
I yanked my arm again, and he let it go. ‘They do.’
‘Why do you wear t-shirts, then? Their opinions don’t bother you?’
‘I guess not.’
Lie.
I raised my eyebrow at him, then gestured to my scars. ‘You don’t think I did this to myself?’
‘Nah. Looks like, oh, I don’t know, a battle wound from a run-in with a joey kangaroo.’
I laughed under my breath. ‘That’s very specific. Where would I have even run into a baby kangaroo?’
He shrugged. Pulling out a cigarette, he propped it between his lips, lit it up and inhaled. ‘Not here in Sydney. That’s for sure.’
Tyler blew out a cloud of smoke, and we sat in a silence so comfortable it freaked me out. On finishing that cigarette, he lit up another almost immediately.
‘So,’ I said to break our comfort, ‘how’d you get into selling records anyway?’
‘When I was younger, and things got shit, I’d lock myself in a closet with my iPod and listen to music. I could hide in there for hours, sitting in the dark, and no one knew where I was. I’d put the music on really loud so I couldn’t hear anyone calling me.’
His voice grew distant, and for a second, I feared that I’d lost him to his thoughts. But he flicked his unbrushed hair off his face and continued, his tone brighter.
‘I listened to a whole heap of different genres and learned a lot. Gave me something to focus on, and I figured I could use my knowledge to make money.’
It sounded magical, the idea of losing myself to the darkness of an enclosed space with nothing but music. No people. No worries.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want to come out.
‘You obviously love music. You can hear it in your voice.’
His eyes darkened to midnight blue. ‘There are only two things I give a shit about, and music is one of them.’
A shiver crept along my spine. I considered asking what the second thing was, but on catching the depth in his eyes, I changed my mind.
In my silence, Tyler shuffled across the grass to get closer. His body spray smelt vaguely familiar, and I inhaled the scent deeply so it completely filled me.
‘Speaking of music, I made something for you,’ he said with the usual kink in his smile.
He lay back on the grass and pulled out his phone and a pair of in-ear headphones. Tucking one of the earbuds into his left ear, he held out the other one for me. I took it, and he tapped the space beside him. Lying down, I edged close to his body so we could share the headphones, his in his left ear, mine in my right. I wanted to squeeze myself right up against him, just to feel the warmth and presence of another person. I’d been craving touch so much it felt like I would wither away. And Tyler was so close. If I shuffled a few centimeters toward him, I’d feel his …
No. I couldn’t.
‘What have you got for me?’ I asked as he scrolled through his phone.
‘I made a playlist for you. To show you what good music is.’
I suppressed my laugh and rolled my eyes. ‘Oh, please.’
The distorted rhythm of an electric guitar boomed from my headphone. Tyler had the widest smile. He studied me, watching my expression, and I couldn’t help but grin. The music built gradually until someone who sounded like they were choking started singing—if you could call it singing. Grunting might be more on point. I cringed on the inside with every groan and growl, but I still allowed Tyler three songs before I rolled onto my side to face him and playfully snatched the phone from his hands.
‘Now that I’ve recovered from that onslaught of bad taste, let me show you what real music is.’
He laughed and tried to snatch his phone back, starting a playful wrestle between us. Considering we were still connected with his headphones, I couldn’t roll away from him. We giggled—aggressive music in my ear—and squirmed side by side until I finally won, and Tyler gave up.
‘Fine!’ he huffed, humor in his tone.
I stared at the phone. Now that the music was in my control, I didn’t want Tyler to hear anything I usually listened to.
‘You gonna put something on?’ he asked.
I handed the phone back to him. ‘You’re right. Metal is best.’
He furrowed his brows. ‘You don’t really believe that.’
‘No.’
He turned the music off, pulled out his headphone, then turned on his side to face me. Lying there with him, in the thick, lush grass, under the shade of a giant tree, should have felt romantic. But I couldn’t bring myself to fall into his smile and rugged good looks, no matter how easy it would be. No matter how much my fingers twitched with the urge to touch someone.
‘You’re kinda lucky you don’t remember your past,’ he said. ‘You can be anything. Create a whole new identity. Be anyone you wanna be.’
He reached out and pushed back the hair falling over my face.
Th-u-mmmppp. Thu-mmm-ppp.
Thump.
I swallowed hard, my words breathing out in hardly a whisper. ‘You think I’m lucky to have no one in this world who cares about me? No one who’s noticed me disappear?’
His gaze penetrated mine, and my chest tightened. He was trying to pull me in with his eyes. I’d felt it, and I was finding it harder to keep myself on solid ground.
‘I spent my whole life moving in and out of foster homes,’ he said. ‘In and out of lives. I know what it’s like to disappear.’
A tug of war began between my logic and my weakness for touch. With every moment Tyler kept his eyes locked with mine, I slipped a little closer toward falling for him.
‘What happened to your parents?’ I asked.
He shrugged like it was nothing, then replied just as casually. ‘Never met my dad, and my mum … well, some people are never meant to be parents.’
He stared at me like he knew I’d agree. Like he knew that would be what I needed to hear to close the tiny gap between us.
Thump.Thump.Thump.Thump.
He opened his mouth, and his breath grazed my lips. ‘You and me, we’re exactly the same. Forgotten by the people who should’ve cared the most. You and me, we can fuck off together. Disappear from this bullshit world.’
No words had ever sounded so inviting, or petrifying. I could go now, with Tyler, and no one would even notice I’d left.
‘What do ya say?’ he prompted.
The reality of his offer hit, and fear crept through me. Suddenly, all I wanted was to be with Billy.
I leaped up and threw on my socks and shoes. Tyler sprung up beside me and took hold of my arm. His grip made my heart stop.
‘Where are you going?’ he blurted with urgency.
‘I need to go. I forgot I had to be somewhere.’
He tightened his grip around my arm, and my lungs constricted.
‘But you just got here. Can I at least see you again?’
I forced myself to look at him, and I caught a glimpse of desperation in his eyes.
‘What is it about me, Tyler? Why do you want to see me so much?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
But I thought that he did know.
And still, despite the uneasiness spreading over me like a rash, I offered him my number.
Call me Lucy: An Enemies to Lovers romance Page 9