by Madeline Ash
Alexia smiled. “Sydney.”
“Is that far?”
“By car?” She paused, considering. “Nine hours.”
Chapter Two
‡
Lullabar was a beachside café by day, bar by night. Naturally, both incarnations impressed. Parker’s presumptuous and all around self-serving approach to life didn’t tolerate failure – in other words, his presumptuous and self-serving approach motivated others to get it right on his behalf. The venue was no exception.
As Alexia emerged downstairs that night, Dee tugging her along, she took in the uneven architecture and artful grunge decor and admired. The ceiling was low at the entrance, fanning upwards and outwards with the sky as the limit. Neon graffiti glowed on charcoal walls, visible under subtly-placed ultraviolet lights, and old surfboards made up the bar surface, planed flat, cut to fit, and coated in resin.
Waiting for her pale ale, Alexia leant against the counter and hoped the founder of the venue didn’t actually work in it. She’d bundled her distinctive mass of hair beneath a knitted tam hat, big enough for a head of dreadlocks, because tonight was going to be awkward enough without Parker witnessing her attempts to pick up. The man who could have been her first kiss, her first lover, watching her fumble with the same inexperience years later – no thanks.
Most people gathered around tall tables and the bar, but the dance floor drew out those who couldn’t resist the minimal beats of garage dubstep. Booths bracketed that space, half-filled with people socialising over beer and house-made pizzas. The atmosphere was easy, a Monday night at the local lounge.
“Okay,” Dee said, raising her drink. “Run free, little one, and get kissing.”
“Wish me luck.”
Dee imparted her luck with a slap on Alexia’s bum.
It did the trick. The only problem was that each time luck worked its magic, Alexia burned it at the stake. After an hour, it became clear that while she excelled at attracting interest, she was even better at laughing with a hand on her chest.
“For heaven’s sake,” Dee exclaimed, grabbing her elbow as they crossed the floor to the bathroom. “This is the seventh time I’ve been death-glared to hell tonight. They’re nibbling, Alexia, but you keep flicking them off your hook.”
“Sorry.” The door closed behind them, muting the music. All cubicle doors were open and no one stood in front of the basins. Alexia faced her friend, frustrated and tugging at the beads around her neck. That last guy had been cute and kind of funny, even if he shouldn’t have used LOL in a sentence. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Dee raised a brow.
“I might be nervous,” she admitted.
“You don’t say.”
“It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Nothing feels right when you’re preparing for the first time. But it will, trust me.”
Alexia nodded as her heart disagreed. How would something so impersonal feel right? Baring all for a man she didn’t know would be offering her soul to a stranger. And she didn’t want to give it up like that. Idealistic as it might be, she’d always hoped her first time would be special.
Not for research.
She’d fooled herself. She’d clung to hope that she’d meet a man she actually liked. That they’d connect and the whole fling would feel a little magical. Now reality closed in. That wasn’t how it would be.
Dee was checking her hair in the mirror. “Want to head back out?”
Alexia pulled a face, masking her dismay. “I might have exhausted the possibilities for tonight.”
“In that dress, I doubt it,” she commented, turning towards the door. “But let’s postpone Stage One while we eat.”
Back in the bar, relief had Alexia collapsing into an empty booth opposite Dee.
A woman in a Lullabar singlet and short-shorts took their order. Two pizzas, both with extra olives, coming up. As they ate, they brainstormed for Dee’s current script – another romantic comedy with a tragic ending – until Alexia spotted a familiar face through the crowd.
A tall beanpole of a man with dark skin, glasses, and an abundance of curly hair. Her heart leapt and her body quickly followed. “Josh!”
He turned, scanning the booths until he noticed her wildly waving arms. Delight lit his face and he used both arms to wave back.
“Lex, look at you,” he exclaimed when he reached the table, enveloping her in a hug. She breathed in, closing her eyes at the smell of warm cotton and old friendship. “I can’t believe this!”
Released, she grinned. “Josh.” Still excited, she gave him a light punch in the stomach. “This is my friend, Dee. She’s holidaying with me.”
“Hey,” Josh said, smiling widely, and Dee was up, shuffling to the edge of the booth with an enthusiastic smile. Josh stooped down to hug her too, and Alexia caught her friend’s eye over his shoulder as Dee mouthed, “Oh my God.”
Alexia shook her head, still grinning, as they pulled back. “Can you stay?”
“Love to.” He slid into the booth beside Dee and beamed across at her. “I really can’t believe this. Parker said he saw you this morning, but it hadn’t sunk in.”
“Uh.” She frowned. “Yeah, on the beach. But why would you two be—”
“Speak of the devil,” Josh interrupted, gaze set behind her. “Parks!”
Alexia didn’t turn. She felt disoriented. A friendship between Parker and Josh? He continued looking over her shoulder, expression welcoming, almost mischievous, and she realised with the weight of exclusion that while Byron Bay mightn’t look different, her old foundations had shifted in her absence.
Josh beckoned more insistently a second time, and before long, a figure drew up to the edge of the table beside her.
Alexia stared resolutely at her plate.
“Hey.” Parker spoke above her, voice melding with the deep bass of the music.
“Look who I found,” Josh said.
“I noticed.”
“Join us.”
“I don’t—” Parker broke off and Alexia imagined that he indicated pointedly at the back of her head. “No thanks.”
“You’re here to have a beer with me.” Josh swiped a pizza slice off Alexia’s plate. “And this is where I’m sitting. So sit.”
Parker didn’t move. No guesses why.
“Sit,” she murmured, sliding further into the booth.
He hesitated in the corner of her eye. “Sure?”
“Push through,” she requested dryly.
Across the table, Dee spoke to Parker. “I can’t quite tell, but you don’t have green eyes, do you?”
A confused pause. “Yes.”
“Huh.” Her attention shifted to Alexia, who avoided eye contact even after a kick under the table. “Huh,” she said again, quieter.
Sprung. Alexia locked-in an in-depth gossip session back in their hotel rooms, knowing Dee would insist on details.
And then everything changed because Parker slid into the booth beside her.
He kept his distance. Didn’t look at her and didn’t speak. Alexia kept her gaze fixed on the table, pulse flying now, because he smelled like a long day at the beach, salty and enticing, and she ached to press her nose into the round of his shoulder, breathing deep. His closeness prickled her skin like too much sun. Hot, taut. Unexpectedly, she longed for warm sand at her back, his body on hers, and his mouth on her lips.
Alexia took a long swallow of beer. So long, in fact, she finished it.
Parker spoke. “You get that drink on the house?”
Guilt pinched at how she’d handled his offer that morning. “No.”
“You’ve covered your hair.”
“I – yeah.” What?
“That’d be why they didn’t recognise you at the bar.”
The guilt pinched harder. He’d described her to his staff, making good on his offer, in case she dropped in to check out his venture. In case she wasn’t as unforgiving as she’d been that morning. Alexia softened enough to glance over and had her br
eath stolen for her trouble.
Parker looked back. His attention had always affected her. Strong, steady, and all-encompassing. His posture was relaxed, his expression serious. She watched his gaze flick to the side of her face and the curls that had escaped her hat; watched one of his hands move to rest on the table top, fingers in a fist. He wore a grey tee and denim shorts to his knee. Even in the mood lighting of the bar, she could see the golden hair on his calves, beautiful and strangely masculine over the defined muscle.
Heat curled in the base of her stomach. She looked down at her lap.
“Want me to leave?” He asked it quietly.
She wasn’t sure.
“I understand if you do.”
And she couldn’t understand why he was here in the first place. “If Josh thinks you’re worth his time, I’m curious to find out why.”
And so he settled, placing the beer he’d brought with him on the table.
“God, don’t stop.” Dee’s words rang with curiosity. “I haven’t figured out what’s going on yet.”
Behold one of the many differences between the friends. Dee delighted in shining a spotlight on others, thinking nothing of their embarrassment. Alexia nudged her in the shin and turned to Josh. “You still play guitar?”
“Yeah.” He looked happy. “I’m in a band with a few other guys. How long are you in Byron? We’ve got a gig here Friday night.”
“About three weeks. I wouldn’t miss it.”
He beamed, stealing another slice of her pizza. “And you’re acting? Parks said you’re on TV.”
So Parker had spoken about her. She wondered what tone he’d used. “That’s right.”
There was a table-wide pause.
Josh asked, “That’s all we get?”
Dee stage whispered. “She’s terrified of boasting. Doesn’t want to come off as entitled, just because she has something we don’t, ahem, fame, looks, money, the lot.”
Parker shifted beside her.
“Give us a little more, Lex,” Josh said, smiling.
She relented and smiled back. “Okay. Uh, it’s called Born Tomorrow. It started with a cult following, now it’s pretty big. I play an uptight teen called Emma who always has to be right and somehow always is. We finished filming the last season a while ago. It’s in post-production now.”
Rendering her out of work. Hence the pressure to be cast in this upcoming film.
“God, Lex,” Josh said, his mouth full. “Stop boasting.”
She laughed.
“You mentioned it was a working holiday.” Parker swigged from his bottle. “What are you working on?”
“Uh.” Alexia raised a shoulder, cheeks heating, and prayed for mercy. “Just research for a role.”
“Cool.” Josh nodded, hair bouncing. “What’s the role?”
“A character called Dani. She’s a sociopathic bounty hunter who’s actually the one being hunted.”
The men looked impressed.
“Very sexy woman,” Dee added. “Unhinged as hell, but loves to take a man.” She said that last bit with a frank look at Josh. He blushed.
“So.” Parker spoke after a pause. “What’s the research involve?”
Oh, for the love of all things secretly virginal, she did not want to answer that. Alexia shot a desperate glance at Dee. In return, her friend gave her a look of assumed fascination for which she would never be forgiven.
Alexia squirmed. “It’s ah – well, more of a mental state thing than actual research.”
Josh raised his brows. “You’ve come to Byron to feel sociopathic?”
“Good a place as any,” Parker murmured.
“Um, no, not exactly. It’s… boring really.”
“I was joking about the boasting,” Josh said, leaning forward. “Go on.”
“Nah, it’s nothing. It’s like… just… research.”
“Not sure about anyone else.” Parker’s voice was curious beside her. “But the harder she tries to convince me I don’t want to know, the more I know I do.”
They all stared at her.
Alexia’s pulse beat thick in her neck. She considered fainting.
“I want to know more about Byron,” Dee cut in, finally stepping up to best friend duty.
So Josh told her about the locals and the easy-going lifestyle of the bay. He described the markets and the street artists, the live music and the raves out in the industrial estate. And as he talked, Alexia grew more and more aware of Parker, still and silent beside her, his hand now resting on the booth cushion inches from her thigh, until she was positive he wasn’t listening either, just breathing and sensing her beside him.
The warm sand at her back started feeling pretty good.
Then he leaned in and spoke under his breath. “I want you to know that I’m sorry.”
His forehead was close to hers. She gave a nod.
“And that I wish I’d never done that to you.”
Another nod, because she believed he meant it.
“I thought—” He broke off as Dee laughed at something Josh said. “I thought I was God’s gift to women.”
“If you were, we’d all be atheists.”
He met her eyes. Then he grinned.
“It’s fine,” she said, trying not to notice how laugh lines transformed his face. She forced her eyes away. “I mean, it wasn’t at the time, but…”
Parker’s grin faded. “I’ve changed since then.”
She believed that. Maturity had clearly come with an awareness of his flaws and the ability to disguise them. It didn’t mean they weren’t there.
“You’re hardly looking at me, because you think I’m him.” His words were a low rumble by her ear. “And I’m sorry for that, too.”
Before Alexia could speak, Dee said, “You two are sitting closer than before.”
Pulling back, Parker murmured, “So are you two.”
Josh ran a hand over his ’fro, looking bashful.
“So how did this happen?” Alexia gestured between Parker and her old friend.
Barely a second passed before Parker said, “Gradually,” but in that moment he’d raised a finger off his empty beer, and Josh had leaned back ever-so-slightly. Nothing like a little censorship between friends. “Anyway, I’d better head off.”
“Me too.” Josh stood and grinned like a goof. “It’s so good to see you, Lex.”
She beamed. “And you.”
“And a pleasure to meet you,” he said to Dee, who gave her best attempt at coy, which was basically a ‘come-hither’ look to rival all come-hithers.
“We’re staying upstairs,” she said, as if he’d asked.
“Oh.”
The men left, one bright red, the other distant. Then time moved quickly as Dee dragged her to their floor, cursed her handbag because her swipe card was lost to the general detritus within, and then ushered Alexia onto her bed.
“Spill,” she demanded.
Alexia spilled, minus no details.
“So he’s changed,” her friend said, finally kicking off her boots. “He’s sorry. He’s blond and fit with green eyes. He’s the one.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Give me any good reason why not.”
“Hi, Parker, so remember that time you assumed I would have sex with you because you were rich and gorgeous, and I got upset because there’s more to sex than that? Well, hey, here’s an idea – how about you have sex with me, but I don’t want to get to know you or become emotionally involved. I pretty much want what you were offering the first time, so sorry if you’ve felt bad about it since then. Turns out I’ve changed too, for the worse.”
Dee nodded. “That’s perfect. Just say that.”
Alexia rolled her eyes.
Her friend grinned. “But seriously, men are different. He’d say yes.”
Doubt stirred in the base of her stomach. “He was so unbearable, Dee. He can’t have changed that much. Not enough.”
Dee reached across the bedspread and took her
hand. “Okay, I was testing to be sure. We’ll keep hunting.”
Alexia dreaded another night of trying to pick up. “Yay.”
“So, Josh.” Her friend put her glasses on the bedside table, and her necklace beside them.
“Friend from school,” she answered. “We tried to stay in touch when I moved, but the emails petered out.”
“Good guy?”
“Great guy.”
“Why isn’t he a contender?”
Alexia pulled a face. “As far as I can imagine, it’d be like sleeping with a brother.”
“Got it. Do we know if he’s single?”
“He wouldn’t have hugged you if he wasn’t.”
Dee made a sound of triumph and fell backwards onto the bed. After going on about how cool Josh’s hair was, and his glasses, and the fact that he had a band, Alexia figured she wasn’t going to get another straight word out of her.
She planted a kiss on Dee’s cheek, said “Keep talking, I’m just going to bed,” and returned to her own room across the hall.
Dress off and hair out, she ran a shower. Beneath the spray, she reluctantly analysed the series of failures that had made up her evening.
She’d attempted Stage One. Seven willing contenders, nice enough guys, and she’d run from them all – right into the tight, lush presence of Parker Hargraves who’d made her feel ten times hotter than the rest simply by sitting close.
She cranked the cold water, willing away the heat. It didn’t wash. Turned out, she had a sexual fantasy after all, and it involved a long day at the beach and warm sand at her back. She tried to replace the man above her with someone else, anyone else, but the image kept shifting back to fair hair and muscle, and for the second time in her life, her mum’s words rang true, because if she could choose who she was attracted to, Parker wouldn’t even make the bottom of her list.
Yet, so far, he was the list.
*
When Jay Hargraves had left Byron Bay, unable to bear the reminders any longer, he’d given his business and house to his son. At twenty-two, Parker embraced Lullabyron, knowing he’d cope. He had a degree in business management and experience working intensively with his dad at the helm. Young for such a role, sure, but he had managers and advisors and his dad was only a phone call away.