by Kat Colmer
Someone pounded on the door. I ignored it, lowered the lid, and parked myself on the throne. In the den, the stereo cranked out a screeching guitar riff. Not exactly music to calm the nerves, but I took a steadying breath and focused on slowing my racing thoughts.
So Cora was back. But she seemed…normal. Everything seemed normal. Which was good. Normal was good. I needed things to be normal between us because other than Beth—and now maybe Leo—Cora was one of the few people I could wear my own skin around.
Over the last six years she’d somehow become a major thread in the fabric of my life, and I didn’t need the complication of anything other than normal between us. I needed her friendship. She saw past what everyone else saw and called me on my bullshit. Most of the time it annoyed the hell out of me, but if she weren’t around to do it, I’d probably suffocate breathing all the methane. Apart from Aunt Helena and Beth, Cora was all I had. All I allowed myself to have.
So when she’d gone and spun normal off its axis that night a year ago, I did what any other guy in my situation would have done—I freaked.
And hid in the bathroom. This very same one.
My reflection mocked me from the mirror on the opposite wall.
You’re pathetic. It’s all good. Get out there and talk to her. Add value to the friendship, you drip!
More pounding on the door. I knew I couldn’t stay in here all night.
“All right. Don’t rush me!” I heaved to my feet, flushed, and washed my hands to make it sound like I’d come in here for legitimate reasons. Then I opened the door.
And came face-to-face with Ashley.
Shit. With Cora’s early return, I’d all but forgotten about her.
“Look, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I’m giving you one last chance to come good.” She twined her arms around my neck. “How about we meet up tomorrow? Maybe without the party and all these people around we could—”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work.” The idea held even less appeal now than it had back in the gazebo, but when I extricated myself out of the circle of her arms, her mouth did that pouty lip thing. Guilt nudged me to give her something. I mean, it’d been my spread-the-love reputation that had led her down the gazebo path in the first place. And as much as I lacked the feels, a hookup with Ashley would send Cora a clear message that nothing had changed since that night a year ago. We were just friends. Good friends. The best of friends. But that was all—just friends.
Right?
Right.
So…Ashley. The girl had added a frown to her pouty lip thing. Okay, she was only in town for a week and all her hints screamed of “holiday hookup.” I could do that, couldn’t I? Hell, a few months ago that would have been my dream scenario but now…
Enough already! Get with the program.
Apparently, Ashley had the same thought. She leaned in, her lips going for the kiss she’d been after all night. I should have let her. I should have done the kissing myself. But my stupid body wasn’t just disinterested, I flat out didn’t want her.
Someone shouted her name. I glanced to see who it was, but the person must have shouted from around the corner and was already going back downstairs.
I turned back to Ashley—
And she pressed her lips against mine.
Ah hell. I put my hands on her shoulders. “Ashley—”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Talk tomorrow.”
I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn’t going to happen, but she’d already disappeared down the stairs. I waited for a bit before legging it down myself, two steps at a time. In search of Cora.
I ran into Beth in the hallway instead. “You seen Cora?”
“She’s outside entertaining Leo with stories of your TKD class antics.”
That didn’t sound good. “And where are you going?”
Beth sighed. “Aunt Helena wants me. Go make sure Leo doesn’t bore Cora to death with his geek talk.”
I found them sitting on the veranda steps. They laughed at something, and the sight of their dark heads so close together had me doing my own version of the pouty lip thing.
“Share the joke.”
At the sound of my voice, they turned. Cora’s ponytail fanned over one smooth shoulder, a river of molten chocolate spilling along her bare back. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts and turned to Leo. I didn’t like the look of his dumbass grin.
“Cora here’s been telling me about the time you pulled a groin muscle trying to impress some girl during a martial arts class.”
What the hell? “I arrived late and didn’t warm up properly.” Exactly why was I even explaining myself?
I turned my glare at Cora. “And I wasn’t trying to impress her. She asked me to show her my hook kick technique.”
Cora rolled her hazel eyes. “The girl was interested in your technique all right, just not the one related to your hook kick.”
Leo let out a sharp laugh and turned his eyes on Cora again. “Tell me you got more stories like that on him?”
She grinned. “How much time have you got?”
Eyes narrowing, I looked back and forth between the two of them. For a guy who had no interest in dating, Leo was paying way too much attention to my friend.
I leaned against the balustrade next to Cora but eyeballed Leo. “Who introduced the two of you anyway?”
“I introduced myself.” Leo shook the can in his hand, the remains of his drink sloshing against the tin. “So where’s Beth’s friend’s leggy cousin?”
My eyes sought Cora’s, wanting to gauge her reaction to Leo’s question, to reassure myself there was nothing other than casual curiosity in hers. One of her brows rose slightly, but that was the extent of it.
I shifted, readjusted my hip against the balustrade. “She had to leave.”
Leo eyed me silently for a second too long to be comfortable. “You must be bummed about that.”
Yeah, any other night I would have been, but tonight…
Not in the mood for a sharing session with Leo, I shrugged, changed the subject, and turned my attention to Cora again. “I don’t need you starting rumors about me.” I nudged her thigh with my foot, just above the hem of her skirt. “Especially not where my groin muscles are concerned.”
This time she quirked both brows. “Just giving the facts. I can’t help how your friend interprets them.”
Leo tapped his empty can against his leg and stood. “I’m going for another drink. You two want one?”
“Thanks, I’ll have a Sprite.” The defined muscles along Cora’s slender arms flexed and tightened as she leaned back on them to look up at Leo. Proof that, unlike me, she’d continued her martial arts training in Manhattan.
“I’ll have a beer,” I told him.
Leo gave a mock salute. “Beer it is, birthday boy. Have to keep reminding myself that it’s legal here at eighteen.” Then he was gone, swallowed by the stoner rock music blaring from the hallway.
I sank down on the stairs next to Cora. It was both strange and comforting, us breathing the same air for the first time in a year.
“So, good to be back?”
“Is it ever. Don’t get me wrong, Manhattan was an experience, but I missed home, missed Dad and Beth and…you.” She brushed her hair back off one shoulder, sending a wave of familiarity into the space between us.
I shifted on the sandstone, trying to kill the urge to lean in. “It’s good to have you back.”
And it was. Even though her being back rattled me more than I’d have liked, after painful birthday speeches and bizarre voodoo letters, Cora’s return was the one thing that stopped this birthday from totally sucking.
Chapter Four
Cora
When I woke the next morning, Madam Curie stared down at me from my bedroom wall. Her stern expression told me s
he wasn’t happy with me.
Well, I wasn’t happy with me, either. I’d spent half the night wide awake, counting dust particles in the beam of moonlight stealing its way through my bedroom blinds. I could have blamed jet lag; a perfectly legitimate excuse to be wide awake at three in the morning. But Madam Curie and I both knew I was agonizing over the fact that Jonas had definitely acted weird around me last night. There had been stretches of almost normal, but then I’d catch him glancing my way, cautious questions in his eyes. If it hadn’t been for Beth and Leo’s bickering unintentionally providing a much-needed buffer, things would have turned awkward fast.
Which meant I had to do something. Quick.
Madame Curie was still staring.
Don’t look at me like that. I know the science comes first, but you can’t tell me it was only ever research and radium for you. Like you’ve never had guy issues. You were married to a French man, for crying out loud!
I threw off the bed sheet and turned my back on the wall. Maybe it was time to get rid of that poster.
Where moonlight had snuck through the blinds last night, a bright ray of heat blazed through the gap this morning. I padded over to the window and pulled the blinds open. The sun sat high over the familiar expanse of gray-green eucalypts that lined the strip of bushland at the back of the properties along our street. Already a hazy layer of heat had the tree crowns shimmering where they brushed the horizon. This, exactly this, was what I’d missed. Yes, Manhattan had Central Park, but nothing came close to Sydney’s bursts of bushland smack in the middle of what was a bustling metropolitan city. For most people, “Sydney” equaled “surf and beach.” Not for me. I burned like an abandoned prawn at a weekend BBQ. Give me the bush any day.
After a quick shower and a rummage through my still unpacked suitcase, I threw on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and made my way downstairs. I found Dad in the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand, and a medical journal on the table in front of him.
He looked up when he heard me walk in.
“Morning.” His voice was tentative. What did I expect? I’d ripped into him when he chose the Outback Clinic over me a year ago. The month of silence I’d got from Jonas after I left was nothing compared to the cold shoulder I’d given Dad. And though most of it had now thawed, there was still the occasional icy patch of resentment.
“Morning.” I planted a peck on his cheek.
“How was the party?”
“Loud.”
He gave me a ghost of a smile. “Yes, I gathered that. The walls shook here, so I imagine the plaster was cracking next door.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I meant was Beth happy to see you?”
I headed over to the fridge in search of breakfast. “Yep, definitely. You know Beth. She squeezed me so hard my liver protested.” The memory tugged my lips into a smile.
“What about Jonas?”
And just like that, the corners of my mouth took a dive. Happy to see me? Not entirely. “I think he was…stunned.” Stunned, then wary, then weird. Definitely weird. Which brought me back to what I had to do. Ugh.
I grabbed eggs and some butter and set about to do some serious scrambling. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I couldn’t afford the distraction of a grumbling stomach. Not if I was going to head next door to have that conversation.
It took three rings of the doorbell before footsteps tripped down the hallway. Followed by a curse. Then keys clattering on the floorboards.
When the door finally opened, a bleary-eyed Jonas stood before me, his hair sticking out at interesting angles. He must have grabbed his clothes in a hurry, because his T-shirt was on inside out and the button on his shorts was undone. The sight of him all sleep-mussed and disheveled made my breath snag on the next inhale.
“Hey.” Even his voice came out rumpled.
“Too early?”
“Not normally, but after last night? Yeah, too early.” As though on cue, he yawned, and I had the insane urge to ruffle his crazy bed-hair some more. The memory of Madame Curie’s stern face stopped me from doing anything that stupid.
Instead I held out the neatly wrapped Bradbury collection to him. “Maybe this’ll make up for dragging you out of bed.”
Just like that, Jonas was wide awake. He snatched the package from my hand and ripped at the paper like a kid on Christmas morning. He stared at the book cover, his face somewhere between manic and awestruck. “You are the best, Cora.” Then, without warning, he pulled me to him in an impulsive hug.
My first thought? He was solid. And…broad. When did he get so broad? With my face half squished against his shoulder, my nose landed close to the warm crook of his neck. My second thought? He still smelled like licorice and cut grass.
I had all of two seconds to enjoy the easygoing gesture before Jonas realized what he was doing and pulled away.
“Thanks.” He held up the book with one hand and shoved the other hand into his hair. Tug, release.
Great, we were back to awkward and twitchy. Which reminded me why I was here.
I swallowed my rising nervousness and stepped past Jonas into the hallway. “Is Beth up yet?”
“No, everyone’s still asleep.”
Crap. No excuse, then. “Um, that’s good…because there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
His brows lowered as the rest of him stilled. “What?”
Trust me, you’re not the only one uncomfortable here. The prospect of that conversation was making my throat go thick all of a sudden. I needed fortification.
“Hey, you look like you could use a coffee.” Because I needed one right that minute. Also, I didn’t want to do this in the hallway.
I took a steadying breath and started for the kitchen, not giving Jonas a chance to argue. I had to fix this right now.
The kitchen was a disaster, every surface covered with empty beer bottles, soft drink cans, and dirty paper plates. A stack of greasy pizza boxes sat wilting beside the kitchen doorway.
I picked up a paper plate and stuck it under Jonas’s nose. “No prizes for guessing what you’ll be doing today.”
He scrunched up his face and ducked past me to flick the coffee machine on. “Yeah, but with your help I’ll get it done in no time.”
“I can think of better things to do.” I dumped the plate into the already half full bin liner by the kitchen bench.
“What kind of a friend are you?” His voice dripped with mock disgust even as he softened the dig with a crooked smile.
“I’m back all of one day and the first thing you ask me to do is get down and dirty with your party leftovers? What kind of a friend are you?”
“One that doesn’t let time and distance stand in the way of the important things in a friendship—like helping a mate with an after-party cleanup.” Another smile, more teeth this time, along with that familiar glint he got in his eyes whenever we found ourselves in a verbal sparring match. I detected traces of “stupid pill” in my mouth.
Ugh. Pathetic, Cora.
And worrying. It had to stop. Thoughts like these about Jonas were a warning sign my guy radar was in urgent need of repair. In which case hanging around to help clean up wasn’t the smartest idea. Unless Leo and Beth were around to play the role of buffer…
I slid onto a stool at the kitchen counter. “Is Leo coming?”
It was barely noticeable, the brief hitch in Jonas’s movement as he reached over his head to pull two mugs from the cupboard. But it was there; a small stutter in his body language. His back to me, he shoved one of the mugs into place, then banged and clattered about, making the coffee machine hiss.
It took him a while to answer. “He might be. Why?”
“No reason, just wondering. He seems like the type who’d offer to help, that’s all.”
Jonas half mumbled, half grunted something I assumed was assent. He handed me a mug of coffee, then
turned his back on me again so he could prepare his own caffeine fix.
“Is that what you want to talk to me about? Leo?” I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the frown in his voice.
“Leo? No. What makes you think I want to talk about Leo?”
Jonas rolled a shoulder. “You two got on like long-lost friends or something.”
Long-lost friends? More like the brother I always wished I had. “He’s easy to talk to. We connect on an inner nerd level. He gets why I’ve named my Siamese fighting fish Mr. Miyagi.” I licked the milk froth from around my mug’s rim. “Which reminds me, thanks for looking after him. I could use a hand taking the tank back to my place when you’ve got time.”
“Sure.” Jonas turned around, his own coffee mug in hand. “He doesn’t date.”
What? Clearly, he wasn’t talking about the fish. Why would he even tell me something like that? Why would I even want to know that Leo didn’t—
Oh.
Oh!
He was warning me off. But why? Maybe it was for my sake. Or Leo’s. It couldn’t be for Jonas’s sake. He knew we were wrong for each other in every way that mattered, didn’t he?
His expression gave me no answer as he watched for my reaction from the other side of the kitchen counter.
“Don’t want you to get into an awkward situation, that’s all.”
Like the one I got myself into a year ago with you? Okay, it was time to get this over with.
“Speaking of awkward situations…” I took a fortifying gulp of my coffee, hoping the scalding liquid would keep my throat from closing over. “What I actually want to talk to you about is, um, that night before I left.” Another gulp of caffeine courage. “The thing is… I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” This is insane. Just spit it out!
“Kissed me,” he finished for me.
I scanned his expression for signs of cockiness, anything that might indicate he was silently laughing at me.
Nothing.
Actually, he looked a little anemic.
“Yep. That. But I can explain.”
Except—I couldn’t. Not really. Because I still had no idea what had come over me that night. When I’d planned this speech in my head, Mom and Dad were my go-to excuse.