by Elle Thorpe
“You think?” I pulled out a little black dress and held it up in front of me.
“I think. Sometimes guys are dumb and just need a push before they realise what they want.” She paused, as she caught my eye in the mirror. “I’ll bet I know where he’s taking you,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“How? Where?”
“He has a favourite spot.”
My heart sank. “Like a favourite spot he takes all his bar hook-ups?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my God, Reese, no. This is a restaurant. He doesn’t take his hookups out to eat. Put that dress on.”
“How do you know I’m not just one of his hookups?” Making out with him in an alley when we’d only known each other three days might have given him that idea.
“He’s different. Haven’t you noticed the complete lack of flirting with anyone other than you? He hasn’t gone home with anyone in weeks. That’s very un-Low like behaviour.”
I had, but I figured that was more to do with the possible HIV than anything to do with me. I couldn’t tell Bianca that, though.
“I’ve seen you two sneaking off after shift, and he introduced you to Lijah.”
Tears pricked behind my eyes at the mention of Lijah’s name and I swallowed hard. Turning away, I stripped out of my work uniform, shimmying into the clingy black dress.
“Lijah was his pride and joy. He doesn’t take randoms back there.”
I ran my hands down my sides, smoothing out the dress that flared around my hips, but hugged my cleavage. I did a little spin for Bianca and scored a wolf whistle for my efforts.
“Will this work, do you think? It’s not too much for a first, proper date?”
Bianca jumped up and grabbed a pair of nude-coloured heels. “With these, it’ll work.”
“You sure?”
“You look amazing. Low will die.”
Excitement trilled through me. I liked how I looked in the mirror. My long hair was glossy, falling down my back in a waterfall. My skin was blemish-free, which wasn’t always the case since I didn’t always feed myself that well, and my cheeks were flushed and pink.
With warmth creeping across my skin, I flicked the lock on the window and yanked it open, but I suspected my glowing face had more to do with the anticipation of seeing Low than the stuffiness of the room. I hadn’t been on a date in such a long time, and despite the obstacles life had thrown in our way so far, I couldn’t wait to have this night with him.
Bianca glanced down at her phone. “It’s already six-thirty, so I’ll take off before Low gets here and makes me the third wheel.” She paused, her fingers moving rapidly over her phone. “Hey, your surname is spelt L-A-W-S-O-N, right? Why can’t I find you on Facebook? I want to add you so I can stalk you and Low on your hot date tonight.”
“I’m not on it. And even if I were, I wouldn’t be broadcasting our date on social media.”
“What? Everyone is on Facebook,” Bianca stated without looking up. She peered at the phone screen. “Oh, hey, is this your sister? She looks just like you!”
I paused. “Can’t be. My sister isn’t on Facebook. She’s not old enough.”
Bianca scoffed and held the phone out to me. “Please, my niece is nine and she’s had Facebook for a year. Is your sister’s name Gemma?”
I stopped breathing, because Gemma’s smiling face was right there on Bianca’s phone screen.
I snatched it out of her hand and scanned every inch of the photo. It had to be recent. She’d cut her hair. I hadn’t seen it that short since she was about five. The photo was only head and shoulders, but her beautiful face was lit up by a smile. She looked happy.
“It is your sister, right?” Bianca asked.
I nodded as I pressed on Gemma’s profile and scrolled down. There was only one message. Well, only one that Gemma’s privacy settings allowed me to see anyway. I had no way of knowing if there was anything else on her profile at all, but that one message was enough.
If anyone knows where my sister Reese is, please tell her to come home.
Hope rose in me like smoke from an ember on dry kindling. Maybe her injuries hadn’t been as severe as the doctors had first thought. Maybe she was walking around right this minute, and I’d stayed away all this time for nothing. I let the flames of hope engulf me. Gemma wouldn’t want to see me if she were still stuck in a wheelchair. Not when I’d been the one to put her in it.
I kissed Bianca on her on the cheek and handed her phone back. “You’re the best. Thank you for tonight.”
She looked confused but didn’t question what I’d just been doing, as we resumed walking to the front door. I paused in front of it before I reached for the lock to let her out.
“Thanks again.” I didn’t elaborate and tell her she’d helped me in more than one way tonight.
She pulled me in for a hug. “You’re welcome. I’m glad we got some girl time.”
“Hey, that reminds me. Are you going to tell me what’s going on with Riley?”
She shook her head quickly. “Honestly, it’s long and complicated, and I’m sure he’ll fill you guys in soon.”
I still wanted to know what was happening, but I couldn’t fault her. “Yeah, that’s fair enough.”
“Anyway, you need to go finish getting ready. Have a fantastic time and be sure to call me first thing in the morning. I want to know all about it. And I want specifics.” She gave me an exaggerated wink.
“I’m not sleeping with him, B.”
“Uh-huh, sure you’re not. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, you’ll be ripping each other’s clothes off before you even get to dinner.”
That wouldn’t be happening, but I couldn’t tell her why or how much I wished it would.
When I swung the door open, Low was leaning on the wall opposite, engrossed in something on his phone.
Crap, what was he doing here already? I was dressed, but I was still wearing the same smudged makeup I’d worn to work.
“Uh, hi. Did you knock? I didn’t hear anything.”
“Nope.”
Bianca glanced between the two of us. A knowing smile spread across her face and I gave her a swift elbow to the ribs.
“Be safe, you two!” she cried as she pushed past me and pranced off down the hall.
I cringed at her choice of words.
Low wore black tailored pants and a casual button-down shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. His gaze ran down my body before coming back up to rest on my face.
“You’re early.” I had a zillion questions about Gemma’s Facebook message running through my mind, but I pushed them aside for the moment. I wanted to concentrate on Low and give him my full attention. And I wanted to keep the news about my sister to myself for just a little longer. I needed time to work it all out in my head. And we had all night. I could tell him later.
He gave me a lazy smile. “I am. That’s why I didn’t knock. I didn’t want to rush you.”
I added thoughtful to the list of qualities I liked about him and motioned for him to come inside.
“That dress looks amazing,” he whispered in my ear as he passed. “But I bet I’d like your camisole and boxer shorts more.”
Goosebumps spread along the length of my neck. A fresh, clean aroma, with just a hint of cologne trailed him, and I fought to keep from following him, nose first. I needed to finish getting ready before I got sidetracked or we wouldn’t end up leaving the apartment.
“Thank you,” I murmured and closed the door behind him. “I just need to fix my makeup and we can go.” I gestured to the lounge. “Take a seat. Remote’s on the table. Watch whatever you like.”
Leaving him in the living room, I scampered down the hallway to the bathroom. Not bothering to close the door, I splashed water on my face, welcoming the cooling sensation on my overheated cheeks, and wiped my face on a towel. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Low appear in the doorway. I faltered for a split second before continuing my routine, smearing foundation over my cheeks. But it w
as hard not to feel self-conscious when he was watching me in the mirror.
“You don’t need that stuff, you know.” It didn’t sound like a line. It fell from his mouth so naturally, it was as if he hadn’t even thought about it. So instead of insisting I did, I accepted his compliment.
“Thanks. I like it, though. I feel a bit naked without it now.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, I never used to wear much when I was riding a lot. Didn’t seem to be much point. Not like the horses or the kids I taught cared. And I didn’t like how it would run into my eyes when it was hot.”
His reflection in the mirror was thoughtful as he nodded. Why did he have to look model-beautiful while I was half-dressed with only one eye ringed with liner?
“Are you really just going to stand there watching me put mascara on?”
“That was the plan. It’s interesting.”
I squinted at him in the mirror. “Interesting how?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. All those little bottles in there, and you end up looking like a different person at the end.” A tinge of pink appeared on his cheeks. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re gorgeous with or without it.”
Flashing him a smile, I pondered that statement for a moment before replying. “I’m not that sensitive. You don’t need to apologise. I get what you meant.” I wiped a stray fleck of mascara from the corner of my eye. “I think that’s partly why I started wearing it. Sometimes I am a different person with it on.”
His face fell. “Maybe I should start wearing some. It might be nice to be someone else.”
My chest ached for him. I knew all about wanting to be someone else, even if only for a little while. It was easy, watching strangers on a bus, or in a bar, assuming their lives were perfect, and desperately wanting the same thing. I’d turned to alcohol and meaningless sex to combat that void within myself. But I didn’t want to do that anymore, especially now that Gemma’s condition might not be as permanent as I’d first thought. I didn’t want Low to have to either. I just hoped we were on the same page about it. It was hard to know where we stood when he wouldn’t ever talk about it.
“It only lasts for a night, though. Then you take it off and you’re back to your same old self, your same old problems,” I said as our eyes met in the mirror again.
“Like Cinderella.”
“Pretty much.”
I capped my lipstick and bent down to slip on the high heels Bianca had picked out for me. With his guard down and his vulnerable side on display, I was more attracted to him than ever. I wanted him to know that while alpha male Low with his flirting and banter was fun, this was the side of him I wanted more of. Had anyone ever bothered to look beyond the bravado? Had he ever let anyone in the way he let me? I made a vow to tell him before the night was out. I was sick of pussyfooting around with him. For my own sanity, I needed to lay it all on the line. I just hoped he was ready to hear it. I swallowed hard and forced a smile, trying to ignore how nervous the plan made me.
“I’m ready. Where are we off to?”
Low’s face brightened. “You’ll see.”
18
Low
Reese wolf-whistled long and loud. “That is not your car.”
I flashed her what I hoped was a confident grin, but there was heat rising along the back of my neck. I almost hadn’t driven the Aston Martin Vantage. Even though it was a good seven years old, the metallic grey body was sleek and flashy as hell. My taste in cars had changed over the years, which was why I never drove it, preferring the much more practical Ute I’d bought three years ago. But since this was a date, it seemed like a good time to bring it out of the garage where it had been sitting, gathering dust. I wanted to do this date right. Picking her up in my Ute with half a bale of hay in the back and mud sprayed up the side wouldn’t be a great start.
I pulled the handle on the passenger door, holding it open while Reese climbed in, then I slid into the driver’s seat.
Her gaze flitted around the interior of the car, her eyes growing wider as she took it in. “Are these seats heated? This car must have cost six figures.”
“Probably. It was a gift from my grandparents when I turned eighteen. They overcompensated when I first came back to see them.” My fingers dug into the leather-covered steering wheel. I didn’t want to think about my mother tonight, or the way she’d kept me from my grandparents and the only real home I’d ever had. I glanced over at Reese, praying she didn’t think I was a total tool. “For the record, this car isn’t what I’d choose for myself.”
“I’m not judging your car, Low.”
“I know. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I have money. You know that. But I drive a very average-looking Ute most of the time.”
She ran her hands over the smooth seat and met my eyes. Hers sparkled with mischief. “This car is pretty amazing, though.”
A little of the apprehension in my chest eased, and a genuine smile crept across my face. “It goes fast too,” I joked. Though it was the truth.
“Oh yeah?”
“Don’t tell me that impresses you.”
She laughed. “No, it doesn’t. Sorry. I’m not much of a car girl. But I do like it. I like Utes too, though.”
Of course she did. Because she was that sort of woman. Down to earth and low-maintenance. If I let myself think about, being with her would be so easy. We’d go riding together early in the mornings before work and double date with Riley and Bianca or Jamison and Bree on weekends. My grandparents would adore her. And waking up next to her every morning, touching her soft skin, kissing her most sensitive places—she was everything I wanted but couldn’t have. But tonight, I could. Tonight, I could pretend we had a future. Tonight, there were no looming tests, no life-altering results. Just her and me and the illusion of all the time in the world.
I started the car before I voiced my thoughts and pulled out into the light evening traffic, heading towards the city. Reese gazed out the window and soon residential buildings gave way to shop fronts. The corners of her mouth turned up, her dark hair flowing over her bare shoulders. Happiness radiated from her, seeping into me like warmth from the sun.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked. She looked...free, tonight. I wanted to know why.
She turned, giving me a warm smile. “I had some good news today.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded and opened her mouth as if to elaborate, but then a small frown dented the space between her eyebrows and she paused. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet, though. I need some time to think and process it before I talk about it. Is that okay?” Her expression was apologetic.
“Sure.” I made sure the word sounded casual, but a tiny flicker of worry rose in me. Did she not trust me with her secrets anymore? Her answer confused me. I doubted there could be a bigger secret than the ones we’d already shared, but this night was supposed to be fun, and all about her, so if she wasn’t ready to tell me everything, then that was her prerogative. I wouldn’t push her, but the silence drawing out between us felt odd, and I wanted to fill it. “So. First date, huh?”
She studied me for a moment, not bothering to confirm the answer to my obvious question. “Have you gone on many of those?”
I swallowed hard, regretting that we were going down this path already. I knew how my answer would make me sound. But I wouldn’t lie. Not to her. “None.”
“None?” she squeaked.
“Dates aren’t my thing.”
I tried not to cringe.
“Not even in high school?”
I snorted. “Definitely not in high school. I took one friend home when I was in primary school and the next day he told everyone at school that my house was a drug den and my mum was smoking pot the whole time he was there. It was all true, but I never heard the end of it. We moved right before I started high school, so none of the kids knew me. I wanted to make sure no one found out about her, so I
never dated. Hooked up a few times at parties, but that was about the extent of my social life.”
Reese listened in silence before reaching over the centre console and rubbing my shoulder. A flash of guilt churned my gut. My actions didn’t deserve pity. Not by any stretch of the imagination. If I’d wanted to, I could have dated. There’d been plenty of opportunity after high school. I didn’t know why I hadn’t. I’d never given it much thought before. Casual sex was a habit I’d fallen into as a teenager and it had always just been the easier option. There’d never been a guy or woman who’d made me want more, and I’d never felt like I was missing out on anything. Until I’d met her.
We’d reached the main restaurant strip in the city and I wanted to change the subject before either of us could study my past actions in any more depth. “Restaurant’s just up here.”
Couples on dates and groups of friends walked along the paths. Others sat eating and drinking around outdoor tables or inside in cosy booths. The last of the day’s sun was sinking somewhere beyond the high-rise buildings surrounding us, and a cool breeze blew in the open car windows as the streetlights flickered in deepening shadows.
I pulled around the back of the building and put the car into park.
“Thank God we got a decent parking spot. These heels aren’t up to walking more than a few hundred metres,” Reese said as we both pushed our doors open. We rounded the back of the car, meeting in the middle, and without thought, I held out my hand, pulling her close when her fingers entwined between mine.
Reese hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said her heels weren’t made for walking. Even the short walk to the restaurant appeared difficult for her, but she didn’t complain, just held my hand tighter when the tiniest slope put her off balance. We made it to the restaurant in comfortable silence and I tried to memorise how perfectly her hand fit in mine. How her skin was soft and smooth and the way she smelled faintly of strawberries.
I pulled her to a stop outside a busy Tapas bar. “You like Spanish food, yeah?”
“I’ve never been before, but I’ve always wanted to try it. There’s nothing like this in Erraville.” She bounced on the balls of her feet and peered through the large glass windows into the darkened restaurant within. She beamed up at me.