“Whenever you want, bro. What were you thinking about doing for the bucks?” I ask, wondering if April is gonna allow the strippers I was always going to organise.
“Thinking about hitting The Gentlemen’s Club in Kings Cross.”
“Surely we can come up with something better than that?”
“My dad wants us to go play golf first. Some sort of Jones family tradition.”
“Fuck that shit,” I curse with a shake of my head. “There is no way in hell I’m putting on goofy fat-arse pants and old-man shoes.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“You know this could possibly stretch the friendship,” I warn. I’m serious, too.
“How about a compromise? You can wear whatever you like, drive the buggy and make sure there’s enough cold beers on hand.”
“Maybe.”
“Loosen up, Rocco. We can do it first thing in the morning, keep Dad and his business associates happy, and then we can get down to real buck business.”
“I think we need to get out of Sydney. Do something completely different.”
“I’ll ask around and see what other ideas I can come up with.”
“And make no mistake, Jones. There will be strippers.”
“With you as best man, there was never any doubt.”
I scull down the last few mouthfuls of my beer, and Jones does the same.
“Who’s up for another?” Jones asks, wide eyed, pulling April and Suds from their in-depth conversation.
“None for me. I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” Suds says to Jones.
I check the clock on the wall behind the bar. It’s just gone past ten o’clock, and she’s pulling the pin now?
“You’re going?” I ask as casually as I can, but my voice comes across as if I’m some kind of whiney prick. “Surely you can stay for a few more? We can celebrate the fact that Jones managed to stay upright this round.”
“Very funny, dickhead,” Jones says.
“Nah, I’m gonna head off. I’m wiped. And we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” she says, with a smile for April.
“You goin’ too, April?”
“Not just yet. I’m keeping an eye on Daddy,” she says, as she tries to spy on Mac and the blonde woman talking at a small table in the corner.
“It’s called stalking him on his first date in years, babe. I’m sure he might like a little privacy,” Soph says, and draws her friend into a hug.
“Oh, shush,” April says, and kisses her on the cheek.
“Night, babe,” Soph whispers.
“Night,” April says, and extends her neck to try and check on her dad again.
“Night boys. Behave yourselves,” Suds says, as she takes a key on a large tag from April. From the bright orange colour of the rectangular key ring, it looks like we’re staying at the same hotel.
“Someone walking with you, Suds?” I ask.
“Nope.”
The place is a solid five-to-ten-minute walk from here. I can’t let her go by herself. Since when have I had a chivalrous bone in my body? Ah, fuck it.
“Want me to walk you?”
She leans in close. Her sweet perfume teases at my nostrils. Damn. Since when does Suds smell this good? Since when am I close enough to really get a good whiff?
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” she whispers. “Remember? Dangerously good aim, right?” She clenches her fists in front of her in a boxing stance.
I can’t help but laugh. “Righto. You punch any fucker that comes close.”
“Will do.”
A funny sinking feeling materialises in my chest as she weaves her way through the crowd and out into the night.
I wanted her to stay. We could’ve talked some more. It’d help me stop thinking about V, and the fact that tomorrow is his birthday. The first birthday he’ll spend without family. Instead, he’ll be in a jail cell, alone. I won’t even be home so he can contact me. Some fuckin’ brother I am.
As if I’m on autopilot, I return to the bar and order another beer. After each measured gulp, I glance around the pub. Jones has April. Stone has Eevie. Mac, the old bastard, even has someone. Billy Boy has a group of mates and a couple of young chicks hanging around.
That just leaves me and the bottle of Patron that’s winking at me from the other side of the bar.
“I owe you a tequila,” a deep voice says from beside me. Jesus, is someone reading my mind right now? That’s freaky shit.
I turn to face a tall guy with short brown hair. A chunky gold cross hangs proudly around his neck, resting at the open collar of his white shirt. The necklace is similar to the one that V used to wear. Before he got locked up, that is. Fuck. Could I think about my brother any more?
“And how do you figure that?” I ask him, racking my brain for his name. I’ve seen him on-track plenty of times, but I’ll be fucked if I know who he is. Is he with KTM? Did we get blind at Coolum at the end of last season? I was as loose as a hooker on New Year’s Eve. There’s hours of that trip I can’t account for.
“You shouted me at least a bottle after Jones took the championship. That was one hell of a night, brother.”
Brother.
He places a glass in my hand, and clinks his shot against mine. He just handed me a loaded gun.
With a chin lift, he’s pulled the trigger. On reflex I gulp down the drink. The liquid burns as it slides down my throat. My skin prickles all over as the familiar warmth grows inside of me.
I don’t think tonight is gonna end well.
****
SOPHIE
Who’d have thought I’d actually enjoy spending some time on the track? It was good to talk wedding stuff with April and actually escape my life, if only for a day.
Rocco seemed different today. A little less intense. Was it because he was in his working environment? He was different. He was focused. He wasn’t a giant bear with a sore head. I kinda liked seeing this side of him.
At the pub, he was different again. He was funny. He was sociable. Again, not so arsehole-ish. He’s got something over me, and yet I trust him not to say a word … even though a part of me nearly died at dinner when I thought he was gonna spill.
I could have easily stayed at the pub for a few more, but I was happy I left when I did. Dinner was nice. The steak was incredible, and the most surprising thing was that I actually enjoyed Rocco’s company.
He was weird about me leaving. Almost clingy. I have no idea why. The fact that he offered to walk me to the hotel I found rather odd. At home he seems so indifferent, but tonight he was in protective mode. Huh. It’s like he actually cares.
I pull my jacket tighter around my middle as I turn the corner down to the hotel. The wind is at my back for a change.
I let myself into room seventeen, and I’m grateful that there’s a door to the bedroom and the sofa bed is out in the main living area. I know April said they wouldn’t be shagging, but I know how things are after a few reds. Liquid leg-opener.
Speaking of which, I need a shower. Let’s see if I can flick this bean back to life.
I take my pyjamas into the bathroom and turn on the taps. The hot water sinks into my body and loosens the tightness in my muscles. From the moment I start working myself, my fingers are no longer mine, but someone else’s.
They are inked. Rough. Dexterous.
In record time I come hard, gasping as waves spread out to every part of me.
My heart beats frantically.
Why am I thinking of him?
****
ROCCO
Four hours later
“Are you fucking serious, Rocco?” Jones curses as he yanks my arm upwards. I swat the branches away from my face as he pulls me out of the garden. The garden? How the fuck did I get here?
“What’d I do?” I slur, as I try to regain my balance and then brush the leaves and tanbark from my jeans.
“I had to pull you off Brett.”
He what? Whatever I did to him, the fucker had it coming
.
“Brett’s an inbred fuckwit. He deserves everything he gets.” For a mechanic, the guy doesn’t know a wrench from his own dick. I hate working with the fucker. How he came to be senior mechanic is beyond me.
“I just managed to get you out of there before the publican called the cops. What the fuck is it with you and Nowra?” He takes me by the arm and leads me to a door. “Gimme the fuckin’ key.”
I pull the room key from my pocket, and he takes it, opening the door. He nudges me inside.
“Nowra’s not the fuckin’ problem,” I groan. My head pounds as if it’s about to split open and spill brain matter everywhere. I throw myself back onto the queen-size bed and swallow down the rising acid. I will not hurl.
“You have a problem,” he barks. He grabs a bottle of water out of the small bar fridge and shoves it in my face. “Something’s gotta give, ’cause you can’t keep doing shit like this.”
“Don’t worry about me, bro. I’m fine.”
“You’re in denial.”
“Pfft. About what?”
“Drink that and then get some sleep,” he grunts at me, and then slams the door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOPHIE
Sunday
After a few hours’ drive, April and I arrive at the bridal shop to Vicky waiting out front. For a Sunday, she’s dressed far from casually, in a short-sleeved navy dress with white spots. The skirt of the dress is flared out to her knees and she has a pair of pristine red patent heels and a matching belt. Her short blonde hair is smoothed into an impeccable bob. If she put on a pair of short white gloves, you’d swear she’d just walked out of the seventies. She must think I’m a slob in jeans and an old faded black AC/DC T-shirt.
After looking at some hideous shades of pink, and sparkly aqua numbers that you’d expect to see modelled on a Barbie not an actual person, April pulls out a short champagne-coloured dress off the rack.
I rub the soft chiffon material between my thumb and forefinger, admiring the cut of the dress and the detailed lace bodice.
“Ooh, I think you definitely need to try this on, Soph,” April says as she whips through the rack, presumably looking at the sizes. She pulls another one out and hands it to Vicky.
“I adore this colour,” Vicky squeals, and rushes to the change room beside mine.
I pull the curtain across and undress yet again, and slip the dress on over my head. I do up the side zip, and am surprised. There’s a little more room in the bodice than I was expecting. I guess I’ve lost more weight than I’d thought.
From the waist, the dress flares out in layers of chiffon, which is slightly curled at the hem sitting a couple of inches above my knees. I don’t have many dresses in my wardrobe, but this one I actually quite like.
“What do you think?” April asks, eyes wide.
“I don’t look as hooker-ish as I did in the last one.” True story. It was as short as it was tight. And it was fucking tight.
April laughs out loud and walks into my change room. She nudges my shoulder. “You could wear anything in this shop, Soph, and you’d look amazing, but I love this.”
“Yeah, I think it’s a winner.”
Vicky comes out of the change room, looks at me, then to April, and then bursts into tears.
“Oh my God, these are it. Sophie you look simply beautiful. Do I look okay?” She does a little twirl, and then turns again to face us, blinking back her tears and sniffing as if a bout of hay fever is setting in.
“Yep. I think we’ve found our dresses, girls.”
Hallelujah.
Kelly, the very smiley shop owner, takes a few measurements before we each take off our dresses, and then she sets them aside. We get back into our normal clothes.
Bridesmaid dresses done and dusted.
“I love that you don’t muck around,” I congratulate April.
“Well, I guess in keeping with that, I’ve kind of got a surprise for you both.”
Vicky jumps up and down on the spot, her hair bouncing all over the place. “What, what, what?” she asks. It’s as if her voice is preparing to go into a full-blooded squeal at a second’s notice.
“Are you pregnant?” I joke. Will we ever be pregnant at the same time? I need to take another look at that donor site and check it out further.
“I’m pretty sure you can’t get knocked up when you only take it in the arse, Soph.”
The sharp intake of breath Vicky takes in and the pursuing look of horror on her face is by far the funniest shit I have ever seen. April has told me how she’s trying to bring Vicky out of her shell, getting her to talk more about sex. I just piss myself laughing, because I know April’s sense of humour.
“Are you joking?” A nervous giggle slips from Vicky’s mouth and she re-directs her scrutinising gaze from April to me. “She’s joking, right?”
I shrug and put on my best confused look.
“That’s disgusting, April. Anal sex is no joke,” Vicky continues.
I shake my finger at the bride-to-be. “You’re right, Vicky. It’s not.”
“Okay, we kinda went in a totally opposite direction than I was aiming for, so maybe enough of the arse talk and I’ll actually tell you my surprise.”
Vicky’s shoulders drop, and her rainbow-bright smile is back.
“Spill it,” I order.
“My wedding dress is here,” April says.
I put my hands out in front of me, palms facing my best friend. My heart beats faster. “Wait. You have it already?”
She nods.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. This girl is amazing.
“What?” Vicky shrieks, causing me to cover my ears. She’s probably just called every stray dog in the neighbourhood to our doorstep. “I-It’s here?”
April nods again.
“I didn’t know you’d picked a style, babe?”
“I guess I always had a certain style in mind, but when I saw this the other day I knew it would be perfect.”
“Well hurry the fuck up! I need to see this for myself,” I say, as I usher her towards the dressing rooms. April motions towards Kelly, who carries over a black suit bag that no doubt contains the mystery dress.
I hear the zip being pulled down, and the crinkle of the bag.
“You girls know I’m not big on dresses, right?”
“Right,” Vicky and I say back together.
“So never in a million years was I gonna pick a big puffy meringue number.” More rustling.
“Eep! Did you change your mind?” Vicky asks, clenching her hands together as if she’s praying.
I shake my head and mouth no to her. There’s no way in hell that my girl April is donning a giant poof. April and I have already talked about the fact that she wants a dress where she can go to the toilet on her own, even though I’ve said I would perform all duties expected of a maid of honour.
Vicky sidles up next to me, all smiles. Has this girl even been sad a day in her young life?
“What’s happening with you, Sophie?” she asks, her eyes bright and filled with happiness and fucking rainbows. No point giving her the highlights of my last few months. I’d rather focus on the pending nuptials of my closest friend.
“Good, Vicky. How about you?”
“So great! I’ll be starting in my first real lawyer job in a few months at CJ Capital.” The girl looks proud as punch about it. It’s good to see someone who’s finished their degree and so eager to get into things.
“That’s your dad’s work, right?”
“Yes, and I can’t wait. You should see some of the guys that work there. There’s just something about a man in a sharp suit, cleanly shaven with that smell of cologne—I nearly turned to a pile of mush the other day when I got stuck in the lift with one of them.”
I don’t tell her that I don’t mind a man in a suit myself. Well, I did a long time ago, anyway. Look where that got me. I offer her a smile and a nod.
“No more paralegal work for me. I finally get to get into t
he nitty-gritty of the law.”
“Good on you. I’m really happy for you.”
“Aw, thank you. That means so much. April thinks the world of you, and I’m so thrilled to be in the bridal party with you. It’s my first time as a bridesmaid, and I just don’t know what to expect and what’s expected of me, and it’s all just so exciting, isn’t it?” She finally draws breath, and scrunches her nose and sighs.
Another zip noise comes from behind the curtain.
“You girls ready?” April teases.
“Yes,” Vicky and I chime together.
In dramatic fashion, April whips the curtain back and throws her hands to her sides, her open palms facing us and her fingers wiggling. “Ta-da!”
At first my eyes land on the smooth curves of the strapless sweetheart neckline against her glowing skin, which is broken up with loose tendrils of caramel hair. Then I take in the intricate detail of the beaded, embroidered bodice. An A-line chiffon skirt falls gracefully to her feet, with a small, understated train at the back.
It’s very similar in style to our dresses. Planned, me thinks? Regardless, I’m a fan of her work. She couldn’t have picked anything more suited to her. It’s simple and it’s stunning.
I’m not gonna cry. I’m not. My friend looks so beautiful. She barely has any makeup on and her hair is tied up in a messy top knot, but she looks incredible.
She moves her hands to her hips. “Keep your shit together, McKenna,” she warns.
“Someone is cutting onions in here, I swear,” I say as I fan my face and pull her into a hug, being careful not to step on or crush the dress.
A sob breaks free behind us, and the crying starts. “I never had a sister, and oh my God, you look so … so, oh, April,” Vicky manages to get out as her voice cracks.
April releases me and glides over to Vicky and places her hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. “Breathe, Vic, breathe. It’s just a dress,” she says, but the emotion is evident in her voice too.
Vicky throws her arms around April. “No it’s not. It’s perfect.”
“I think so too. And, bonus about this dress? Easy access for Spence if we decide to have a quickie at the reception.”
“Please don’t talk about my brother having sex. I’d be devastated if I threw up in this pretty bridal shop.”
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