“Have you spoken to him about this?”
Her lips curve into a sad smile. “He knows how I feel. The ball is in his court now.”
She walks toward her room, signalling an end to the conversation. I finish making my coffee and take it and my yogurt to the table, thinking about how sad Coral looked. She's always so light and positive that I hate seeing her sad over anything. Coral sad means the world isn't turning right.
Finishing my yogurt, I suck on the spoon, wondering what I can do for Coral to help take her mind off things. The first thing that pops into my mind is a Gold Class movie and one of their decadent desserts.
Picking up my phone, I pull up the browser to find a movie that we can fit in before I start work. The cracked screen makes selecting titles a little more difficult as I have to zoom in and out.
Biting at the inside of my mouth, I lift my gaze to the fruit bowl in front of me. Sitting in the centre is the phone that Flynn brought last night. I pick it up, turning the white box in my hands and noting it's the model up from the one I have. Rose gold. Do I look like a rose gold kind of girl?
I'm about to remove the lid but stop myself. I said I didn't want it but he left it anyway. If I take it, I'm a hypocrite. If I leave it, it's me demanding to have my voice heard.
‘I am not a product of my circumstances. I’m a product of my decisions.’
I put the box back. I don’t need anything from him.
But the guy does owe you a phone. The little voice in the back of my mind acts like a devil on my shoulder, swinging its legs like a child, tempting me with its words. If I had an angel on my other shoulder, she'd shake her head and fold her arms, warning me to stay the course.
Waving my hand over the shoulder where I imagine the devil would sit, I put the box back into the fruit bowl and order the tickets on my broken phone, feeling like I own my power again. My voice will be heard. I'm never going to be a victim again.
5
“HA!” I YELL as my fist strikes the air in front of me. “Ha!”
I’m at the Sunday morning self-defence class I take at the local boxing gym. It’s specifically styled for women in a way that teaches us to use the movements of an attacker against them. We’re taught to scratch, kick and gouge. Thinking quickly and reacting the right way could be the thing that saves any one of us from an attack.
Learning to fight has been a big focus of mine ever since I got out of the hospital. The attack was serious. It broke bones and shattered my self-confidence. I had to go through some physiotherapy to get the full use of my arm back. However, the physio didn’t help heal my mind.
I wish I was mentally strong. Then, the actions of some arsehole wouldn’t have scared me to the point that I didn’t want to leave the house anymore. But they did. I was scared. I still am scared. And the only way I can see myself not feeling that way is to get strong, to get powerful.
While I was given a handful of counselling sessions to talk out what had happened to me, they weren’t something I could see myself doing long-term. I found that working on myself through books and martial arts was far more helpful. It felt like I was taking action instead of whining about things I couldn't change.
“Ha!” We bring up our knees, mimicking our trainer at the front of the room. His name is Joel. I’m fairly sure most of the women only drag themselves out of bed on a Sunday morning to be in his presence. He’s pretty easy on the eyes—big and muscular with dark brown hair and eyes that crinkle when he smiles. And if that’s not enough, he’s completely respectful of women and hasn’t once been spotted sleazing on a girl from the gym. If anything, he’s shy, reserved. It’s why I think he’s the ideal man to help me end my bad-boy phase.
He’s perfect. I need someone strong and a little wild in order to find him attractive. Joel has both of those qualities. Not only is he fit, but he does competitive kickboxing when he isn’t teaching women how to defend themselves.
Which brings me to the list of qualities I want that don’t fit the bad-boy persona. I’m purposely looking for someone who is good, kind. I want a man with a good job—I’m not sure what Joel does, but since he drives an Audi, I’m assuming he holds down a solid nine-to-five. I also want a man with a conscience. This is a no-brainer where Joel is concerned. The fact that he gives up his Sunday mornings to train a group of women to defend themselves shows that he has an excellent social conscience. I want a man who is strong of character, dependable, faithful. These are things I will learn in time, but I get a sense that this man is everything I need to get my love life heading in the same direction my life is.
Life isn’t about finding yourself. It’s about creating yourself. I want to create the kind of life I only ever dreamed of. And that life starts with the right kind of man.
“Partner up and grab your pads,” Joel instructs, pointing to the left side of the room where the kick pads are. I catch his eye, then smile and look away. The side of his mouth kicks up a little before he turns his attention to a couple of women who don’t seem to know what to do.
“Gawd, this guy is good-looking,” Coral gushes as we collect one kick pad between us. She’s been taking this class for only a month less than I have. She’s naturally good and normally quite focused on the training. But she’s noticed that I have a bit of a thing for our instructor, and from the secret smile in her eyes, I’m assuming she just caught the exchange between Joel and me.
“He’s OK.” I shrug, kicking out while she holds the pad.
“Just OK? Come on, Rubes, he’s more than that. And he’s obviously interested in you. Ask him out or something.” She keeps her voice low, looking his way while she talks. I follow her gaze. He’s showing the newer women the proper technique for the front kicks we’re doing. He’s so patient. Whenever I watch him, I can’t help but admire the way he takes the time to make sure everyone is learning instead of just surging forward regardless of those struggling.
I shake my head, then kick out again. “I can’t.”
“Why? He likes you, I’m sure of it.”
“Because I can’t,” I repeat, feeling nervous and silly because I don’t want to admit how scared I am of his rejection. Right now, he’s a dream—the ideal. What happens if I ask him out and he knocks me back? I mean, he might be in a relationship and we just don’t know about it.
“I hope this isn’t some archaic ‘boys have to do the asking’ thing.”
“No. It’s....” I look over at him again. I’ve been forward with men in the past. I’ve never been shy. But that was with a different type of man, and that was a different kind of Ruby. I’m trying to be different. I’m trying to do things right for a change. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe a little traditionalism is a good thing?”
“Twenty per leg, then swap with your partner,” he calls out, satisfied the ladies he was working with don’t need help anymore. He catches us watching him, so I quickly land a poorly placed kick on the pad, sending an unprepared Coral toppling backward.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kick you that hard.” I hold out my hand to help her up and she takes it, laughing.
“I feel sorry for anyone trying to get the better of you. There’s a lot of power in those little legs of yours.”
“You two OK?” Joel checks in on us and I feel my cheeks go a little red. I want his attention, sure, but I don’t want it because I kicked my best friend to the mats.
Coral laughs again. “We’re just fine. Ruby is just a little stronger than I expected.”
He grins and meets my eyes. “Keep up the good work, then, Ruby.”
Coral’s eyes are dancing when I turn back to her. “Keep up the good work, Ruby,” she whispers, waggling her brows and making kissing motions with her lips.
“Stop.” I laugh and quickly check that Joel didn’t catch that. Then I kick at the pad half-heartedly.
“He likes you, I’m sure of it,” she reiterates.
“We’ll see. Let’s get this done. You still have your turn to go.”
Knowing when to drop a subject, Coral nods and alters her stance so I can kick out without tipping her over again.
With each kick, I drive her backward, forcing her across the mats with the strength of each blow. This class makes me feel powerful.
I’ve never been much of an exerciser before now, but I find that I really enjoy the rush of endorphins training gives me. With each session, I can feel myself getting stronger, faster, more capable. Even without a handsome trainer to look at, I think I’d still drag my arse out of bed for this class—though I’m not sure I could say the same thing for Coral.
“I’ll meet you at home,” she says when we’re done and we part ways. She always heads to the beach after class to watch Shane surfing with a few of the other guys. As much as I like the beach, I prefer to give that a miss and work on my fitness. It doesn’t hurt that Joel stays behind as well, which gives me a chance to talk to him.
“You did great today,” he says, catching up with me as I walk into the main part of the gym to use the treadmills.
“I wish those classes were offered every day. I really enjoy them. You’re a great teacher.”
He smiles. “There’s one on Wednesday nights as well. You should come to that one too.” We stop when he leans over to get a drink from the refrigerated water fountain. It’s possible that I check out his arse.
“I work Wednesdays,” I say when he stands back up, averting my eyes and pretending to look at the noticeboard near the drinking fountain so he doesn’t catch me ogling.
“Where do you work?”
“At Rae. It’s a bi—”
“That bistro by the river?”
I grin. “Yeah. Have you been?”
“No. I keep meaning to go though.” His eyes are locked on mine.
“You should.”
“Would you wait on my table?”
I giggle. I also think I lift my hand and twirl my hair around my finger. I can’t be sure. I seem to be on autopilot.
“Is that a yes?” He leans in a little and tilts his head. I don’t know how this came about but I’m pretty sure we’re flirting. This is a good thing.
I open my mouth to say something, but all I can do is smile. I don’t know why I’m hesitating. This is what I’ve been hoping for.
He’s waiting for an answer. The anticipation in his eyes is turning into worry. His confidence is wavering. I wonder if he regularly asks women out from his class or if this is a rare occasion.
Then I wonder if I’m reading this wrong and he seriously wants me to wait his table.
“Are you asking me on a date?” I ask to clarify.
He laughs. It’s a short burst of sound that’s filled with the jitter of nerves. “Ah... yes, though I’m obviously doing a really poor job of it....” He pauses and reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “I was trying to ask you to maybe have dinner with me or something. I don’t seriously expect you to serve me food, and it doesn’t have to be at your work. That might be weird and not much fun.” He lets out his breath in a whoosh. “I’m sorry. I’m not the best at this. It’s not something I do often. If you’re not interested, then I completely understand. It’s just that I... I see you every week and—”
I put my hand on his arm to stop him from rambling. It’s endearing, I can’t wipe the grin from my face, his nervousness helping make mine go away.
“I’d love to have dinner with you, Joel.”
His expression brightens, looking a lot like a kid who just got told he could stay up past his bedtime. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.” Once again, I imagine the little angel and devil on my shoulder. The angel is jumping up and clapping her hands while the devil is lying there blowing raspberries and groaning unhappily as we swap contact information and agree to go out to dinner on Tuesday night.
“I’ll see you Tuesday,” he says with a grin as we part ways. He turns back and looks at me several times. The guy is adorable.
I swipe my hand over my shoulder, flicking away my imaginary devil. Dating a good guy is just what I need. My life is finally moving forward.
***
When I finish up, there’s a message on my phone.
Coral: Come to brunch. Everyone wants to see you. xx
‘Everyone’ consists of her and Shane, Brad and Dakota, and Brad’s friend Elliot and his wife, Paige. It’s a total couple thing, but sometimes I go because of Brad’s stepson, Riley. He’s a riot. And when he’s there, he makes the whole seventh-wheel thing not so bad.
Me: Is my little man going to be there?
Dots dance across my screen while I wait for her reply.
Coral: Not sure. Just come—my shout.
Not one to pass up free food, I respond with OK before letting her know I’ll be a little late because I have to drop by home to shower and change first. She tries to convince me to come in my workout gear, but I wouldn’t subject my worst enemy to the sweaty mess I am after running on the treadmill for half an hour.
When I arrive at the busy eatery across from Bondi Beach, I can see the girls sitting against the back wall where they’ve joined a bunch of tables together.
“Where are the boys?” I ask, hanging my bag on the back of my chair as I take a seat next to Coral.
Paige rolls her amber eyes with a smile on her tanned face. “Supposedly, the waves are too good this morning. We got hungry and headed over here, but Elliot just texted that they’re on their way, so they shouldn’t be long.”
“Actually, I’m kind of glad it’s just us girls for a minute,” I start, watching as their faces take on interested expressions.
“What’s going on?” Dakota asks.
“Guess who has a date Tuesday night?” I grin as I watch Coral’s mouth drop open.
“He didn’t,” she gasps, gripping my forearm.
“Who didn’t what?” Paige looks lost.
“Our instructor from the gym,” Coral fills her in. “He’s a total dreamboat, and I’m pretty sure he just asked Ruby out.”
I nod. “He did.”
A girly squeal erupts from our table, causing the other diners to look our way.
Paige laughs and signals a waiter. “There’s nothing like an impending date to bring the high school out in everyone. I think it’s time for a celebratory round of coffee.”
“Tea for me, please,” I say to the teenage waiter. The moment he’s gone, the questions start. Dakota and Paige want to know everything there is to know about Joel.
I’ve barely had a chance to explain what he looks like before the guys noisily enter the café. They’re all wearing board shorts and stretched-out T-shirts. Shane doesn’t have any shoes on at all, and the rest of them have thongs on their feet.
If we weren’t right next to the sea, they could easily be mistaken for vagrants. But here, looking like they fell out of a St. Vinnies bin is fairly normal.
They bring the scent of salt and sunshine with them as they bustle about the table, kissing their other halves and taking their seats. I look at my phone during this part, checking my Facebook notifications as if there’s something interesting going on in my dull life. As much as I don’t mind being the only one here without a partner, I do get a slight sinking feeling when this part of the morning happens. I’d kind of hoped I’d missed it when I arrived late.
On the upside, if all goes well with Joel, the next time this happens, I might have a partner of my own to bring.
The chair next to me moves back and an unfamiliar body slides in next to mine. The hairs stand up all over my body.
“Still refusing the replacement?”
Flynn.
My stomach flips. My mouth drops open. What the hell is he doing here?
“Shane invited me to surf with them this morning,” he answers, reading my thoughts.
I can feel the heat climbing up my neck and flushing my face. Shooting a look that could kill in Shane’s direction, I calmly slide my phone back into my bag and stand up.
“I don’t think I’m hungry aft
er all,” I say, pushing back my chair.
Coral, who obviously hadn’t noticed that Flynn was here, looks on in shock. “Shane.” She says his name in a way that tells everyone at the table that she’s unhappy. Then she grabs my arm and says, “Don’t go.”
Shane, seemingly having no idea what her problem is, looks at her blankly. “What?” He shrugs, his eyes moving between us.
No words are exchanged between them, just looks. But after a few seconds, I see Shane’s eyes move to Flynn. Now he gets it. I swear I see the light bulb go on above his head.
It doesn’t make a difference. Once again, he shrugs. “So?”
“You’re an arsehole,” I tell him, shaking my head as I pull my arm free from Coral’s hand. “I’ll see you at home. Do me a favour and don’t bring him back with you.”
I hear a few murmurs from the others, wondering what’s going on.
“No. I’ll go. I wasn’t aware that my being here would be such a problem.” Flynn stands. Shane protests. I roll my eyes and walk out anyway, uninterested in standing there like a fuckwit and causing more of a scene.
I hear Coral call out my name, then the harsh tone of her voice as she berates Shane for being so insensitive.
“What the hell is your problem?” Flynn demands, quickly catching up and walking beside me. “You just ruined brunch for those nice people. I thought they were supposed to be your friends.”
“Friends don’t invite strangers who have no business in the lives of their other friends.”
“What?” He stops walking, his hands held out at his sides in confusion. When I keep going, he jogs a couple of steps to catch up to me. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”
I stop walking and turn to face him, having to look up because he’s so tall and I’m the complete opposite of that. “I don’t want you in my life. I made that very clear the other night, and Shane seems to think that his opinion and feelings are more important than mine are. Therefore, I’m pissed off and I don’t feel like sitting there, eating with a person who doesn’t consider my feelings. So I left. Perhaps you shouldn’t be making this all about you.”
A Beautiful Danger (Beautiful #7) Page 3