Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a waitress with bright-red hair over in the bar area. She looked familiar.
‘You look beautiful, Violet,’ Dad said, standing up as we approached. ‘You too, Steph. Red is definitely your colour.’
Steph smiled. Her red mini-dress was a tribute to the eighties. She had a knack for making new look retro, and with her slim figure and edgy white-blonde hair she could always effect the dramatic.
‘Come on then,’ Dad chirped at me. ‘Give us a spin.’ He twirled a finger in the air.
I turned around with my hands on my waist, lingering to let them appreciate the back view of the dress. When I returned to face them, sporting a mock model pose, I froze. Lincoln had appeared out of nowhere. He wore a sexy smile and looked gorgeous in black jeans and an untucked black shirt. I turned quickly to Steph, who was beaming from ear to ear, totally aware of my shock. My eyes darted to the table and I saw what I should have noticed immediately – four chairs and two open beer bottles.
Dad was grinning stupidly with his ‘I made her’ look. It wasn’t that dissimilar from the look he gave buildings he’d designed. ‘Wow! Steph, if you had a hand in that, you’ve done good, kid.’
Steph leaned over and whispered in my ear. ‘Oh sorry, did I forget to mention that I invited him to dinner too? Oops.’ She batted her eyelids innocently.
I looked at Lincoln and he smiled back at me, sending my stomach into a frenzy.
‘Hey,’ I said, failing to keep the surprise out of my voice.
‘Hey. I was in the bathroom,’ he said, as if that explained everything.
‘Yeah, sure. It’s good to…thanks for coming.’ Thanks for coming? Could I be any more infantile?
Lincoln looked down at the table and cleared his throat. ‘You look…that dress is stunning.’ His eyes flashed up at me and quickly away again. My heart skipped a beat and I blushed.
Dad and Lincoln pulled out chairs for us to sit. While looking over the menu, I took a deep breath. There had been an unknown period of time before Steph and I arrived where Lincoln and Dad had been alone. God knows what was said. I needed to calm down – big time. Steph’s idea was becoming more and more appealing.
After our drinks arrived and we’d ordered, Dad excused himself to go to the bathroom. Steph waited approximately one microsecond before reaching under the table into her bag. She flashed a small bottle of vodka at me along with a wicked grin. After taking a big slurp of her orange juice, she slid it off the table, topped it up with vodka and then returned it, casually stirring her straw. She looked at me with wide eyes. My turn.
I glanced at Lincoln. A questioning look crossed his face. What the hell. I took a gulp and passed my lemonade to Steph. I didn’t look in her direction again but I could feel the satisfaction oozing from her. Given half the chance she would have jumped up and done a victory dance.
Despite my initial nervousness, everyone chatted easily over dinner. Dad quizzed Steph on her university preferences, and Steph and Lincoln enjoyed their usual teasing banter. The main meals were delicious, dessert even better – apart from the embarrassing attempt the waiters made at putting a candle in my soufflé and singing ‘Happy Birthday’. Watching the soufflé sink as they sang pretty much encapsulated the way I felt about birthdays. I was at least starting to feel more relaxed thanks to Dad ducking outside for a phone call, allowing for another heavy-handed ‘top-up’ à la Steph.
‘It’s generally not a fifty-fifty pour, Steph,’ Lincoln said wryly.
‘Don’t worry, Lincoln,’ she baited. ‘There’s plenty left. Do you want some?’
He shook his head, but he was fighting the urge to smile as he looked at me. ‘Someone has to keep up the conversation with Violet’s dad.’
For a second I worried that Lincoln would think we were immature, but one look at Steph and we both burst out laughing.
As soon as Dad returned, he paid the bill and left us in the bar, acknowledging that he was ‘officially the oldest person in the place’. I knew he’d make a beeline back to the office for a few hours. Of course, Lincoln dutifully promised to see me home safely – not that Dad had thought to ask.
We settled into a luxurious chaise and ordered more drinks. Music pumped through the bar area, which faced onto the dance floor. I could see why Jase liked working at this place – the DJ pit was huge, with state-of-the-art decks and a captive audience in the bar. DJ heaven.
‘Hi, Violet!’ the waitress called out over the music when she delivered our drinks.
I looked up. Shit. It was the girl I’d noticed earlier. It was one of those awful moments when for the life of you someone’s name just won’t come into your head. She had been a couple of years ahead of us at school and she’d taken the same community art course as me last year in the holidays. I knew she was a painter/sculptor, that she came from a big family, and was quiet but nice. I stared at her for a moment too long, willing her petite frame and bright-red hair to trigger my memory.
‘Hi!’ I said, a ridiculous smile plastered on my face before shooting a desperate glance at Steph. She never forgets a name. She never forgets anything.
Steph shimmied forward on her chair. ‘Hey, Claudia!’ she yelled.
‘So, you work here,’ I said, relaxing a little.
‘Yeah.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m working a couple of night jobs, waitressing. Good tips, you know.’
She piled our empty glasses onto her tray. Her eyes darted to Lincoln.
‘Oh, sorry. Claudia, this is Lincoln.’
They nodded at each other. Claudia turned back to me with an approving look. She’d obviously assumed Lincoln was my boyfriend. I smiled, enjoying the pretence.
‘Well, have a good night.’ She glanced at our drinks knowingly.
‘Thanks,’ I said, suddenly paranoid we’d shortly be escorted from the premises.
Steph just shrugged it off, saying Claudia wouldn’t care, and proceeded to enhance our drinks as soon as she was out of sight. Lincoln, who had now moved onto Coke, seemed less than impressed. When Steph jiggled the bottle in his direction, he just shook his head and leaned back on the couch.
It didn’t take long before Steph spotted her brother with some of his friends and went to join them at the bar. Her attempts at subtlety were flawed – as was her balance, I noted.
Lincoln and I were finally alone. This was my chance. I was freaking out. I grabbed my half-filled glass and skolled it. Lincoln snatched the empty glass from my hand. I couldn’t help giggling.
‘What’s going on with you, Vi? You’ve been acting strange all night,’ he said, sounding older than he was.
‘Lincoln,’ I said, in mock disapproval. ‘It’s actually my birthday today! Excuse me if I’ve finally given in and am trying to have a good time.’
He looked at me for a moment. ‘I was hoping we might get a chance to talk about…things.’
‘Oh.’ He actually looked sincere, damn it. Defensive banter was all I had going for me right now. I slumped back against the couch and one of my dress straps slid down my shoulder.
Lincoln suddenly leaned forward. ‘What happened?’ he asked, gesturing to my mysterious red scratch. I had forgotten about it, but as soon as he mentioned it, it began to sting.
‘Um…I don’t know. I can’t remember doing it. It’s possible it happened in a dream,’ I said. I realised I was slurring my words a little.
His eyes flickered as he studied me. ‘Anything else?’
‘What?’
‘I mean, has anything else…changed since turning seventeen?’
I laughed. ‘Not really. No wrinkles yet. No, no changes…’ But then I remembered. ‘That is, unless the veins in my arms going a weird colour count,’ I said, with a tipsy shrug. The moment I said it, I wished I hadn’t.
Lincoln grabbed my arm in a move so fast I barely caught it. He was unusually rough; I was certain it would leave a bruise. He inspected my veins in the dim light. They now looked a strong, steely, aqua colour. He ran his finge
rs over the intricate patterns, studying them until I began to feel vaguely uncomfortable.
I wriggled. ‘Umm, Linc. I was only joking. Can I have my arm back?’
He released my arm and I held it close to my body a little self-consciously, rubbing the spot he had grabbed.
‘Did this happen today?’ He sounded worried, and frankly now so was I. This conversation was not going in the direction I had intended.
‘I think so. Don’t worry, it’s nothing.’
‘You’re probably right,’ he said, running his eyes over the rest my body. He bit his bottom lip and pushed a hand through his hair. I watched, fascinated. He wasn’t usually the nervous type.
‘Well,’ he started, heading towards an obvious subject change, ‘I know you didn’t want a birthday present…’ He saw the look of horror on my face and held up a hand to stop the protest that was about to fly out of my mouth. ‘So I’m not giving you anything. But …I might have installed a new espresso machine at the warehouse.’
I couldn’t hide my delight. Badgering him to get a proper coffee machine fell second only to bugging him to paint one of his walls. Without thinking I threw myself into his arms. ‘Oh-my-God, I love you!’
His arms instinctively wrapped around me, but I felt him tense as soon as my words registered. He wasn’t the only one. My stomach flipped over so fast it was like a spin cycle on a washing machine. Did he hear? Of course he heard! Everyone hears those words.
He pulled back from the hug. His mesmerising green eyes fixed on me, searching out the meaning of my words. I did the only thing I could; I looked straight back at him and pretended I’d never said it. His hands slid to my hips and lingered. I could feel his heat through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath quickened as I silently willed, prayed, begged him not to let go. But as I pressed closer, his hands suddenly dropped from my sides and, without further ado, the great walls of Lincoln were once again intact.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said, kindly as much as cruelly, ignoring the slip of tongue we both knew he’d heard.
My cheeks burned and I looked away. I could sense Lincoln shifting back, distancing himself.
A guy sitting at the bar caught my eye. He didn’t look much older than me, though I couldn’t see him that well. Dressed all in black, he kind of melted into the dim light. Every girl around him seemed to be turned in his direction but he didn’t appear to care. He was watching me. Fixedly. I was, for a moment, mesmerised, as he tilted his drink ever so slightly in my direction. I blushed even redder. I always felt awkward when strangers looked at me, really looked at me, the way this guy was.
I turned back to Lincoln. Steph was right – I needed to take control of this situation before it drove me insane. I jumped up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the dance floor.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to dance. I—’ I stumbled in my high heels.
Lincoln grabbed my elbow to steady me. ‘You’re a terrible drunk,’ he said, but he couldn’t help the small smile.
I tried for a serious face. ‘I’m tipsy,’ I corrected, ‘and it’s my birthday and I want to dance. Come on, Linc, it won’t kill you.’
When we reached the barrier of people surrounding the dance floor, I noticed again the stranger at the bar, sitting dead still, examining me. The base of my neck tingled.
The dance floor was crowded, but we made it through the crush of bodies to the centre. The music had a good beat and it was fun to let go. I slipped an arm around Lincoln’s waist. When I looked up, he was watching me. He kept a hand on my bare back, splayed and careful, the pads of his fingers pressing cautiously into my skin. His touch burned and my heart pounded.
I started to move my other arm around Lincoln’s waist to bring our hips together. He pulled away abruptly, signalling he needed a drink and disappearing to the bar. Perfect. I bit down on my lip, humiliation flooding through me. Was that my answer?
Looking for escape, I spun around and slammed straight into someone. I felt a weird buzz run through my body as I put my arm on his to balance myself. I must’ve had more to drink than I realised.
The stranger leaned his head close to my ear. ‘I was watching you from across the room. You radiate.’
Only then did I realise it was the guy from the bar. His voice, low and dark, sent shivers down my body. He was strangely familiar and I wasn’t freaked out by him the way I normally would be with a strange guy. Plus, it was nice to know at least someone was attracted to me – though ‘radiate’ wouldn’t have been my first choice for a pick-up line.
I knew it was childish of me to flirt with someone just to get back at Lincoln, but I did it anyway. ‘Thanks,’ I said, looking up at him from under lowered lashes.
Despite my cringe-worthy rejection status, the music started to drown out my thoughts and dancing with a stranger, albeit one who appeared to be wearing a very floral scent for a guy, was not…awful. I was distantly aware that he was starting to move his hands up from my hips, and when he slid them over my bare back I couldn’t stop the gasp. Everywhere his hands went they left sparks, like mini electric shocks, that lingered on my skin after his hands had moved on. I knew on some level I should move away, but for some reason I didn’t. Before I could work out why, Lincoln was there, ripping the guy off me.
He swore and his green eyes flashed with fury. The guy only seemed amused and took a step towards him. For a second I thought Lincoln was going to hit him, but then he just put his arm around my waist and forced me back behind him.
‘Get away from her. She’s not interested,’ he growled, his tone more threatening than I had ever heard him use before. He was right too; I wasn’t interested. At least, I didn’t think so. I had only being dancing with the guy to make Lincoln jealous, hadn’t I? But Lincoln was acting like he was actually dangerous.
The guy just stood there smiling, an odd light reflecting off his dark hair. ‘It didn’t look like that to me,’ he said, completely at ease.
Looking into Lincoln’s thunderous face, I was suddenly sobered. What was going on?
‘I have to go.’ I turned and walked towards our table. Lincoln was right behind me.
‘Where’s Steph? I just want to go,’ I said, unable to look him in the eye. I could sense all my good-time feelings flattening around me like a badly constructed house of cards. Lincoln put his jacket on and shoved his hands in his pockets. Body language 101.
‘She left while you were…dancing. Said she’d call you tomorrow. Did you know that guy?’
I could feel the anger radiating from him. ‘No,’ I mumbled.
‘You shouldn’t have let him near you! You need to be more careful. Did he do anything? Say…anything?’
I grabbed my bag and swung around. Lincoln was right behind me. ‘I…he…’ I couldn’t think straight with him so close. ‘I’m going.’
I made my way for the door, pushing through the sea of bodies that stood between me and fresh air.
We walked home in silence. I stayed half a pace ahead, sucking in deep breaths of cooling air, trying to clear my head. I’d had enough embarrassment.
‘Linc, you can go!’ I finally snapped. ‘I don’t need a babysitter. Consider yourself off-duty.’
He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. ‘Why are you doing this? Throwing yourself at that… He could’ve hurt you!’ He spat the words at me.
That did it. ‘I was dancing, Lincoln, not throwing myself at him! I was having fun.’
He gave a humourless laugh. ‘That’s having fun? He had his hands all over you.’
A blush crept over me. He was exaggerating, but I knew I’d gotten carried away. It was weird, but it hadn’t actually felt like I’d been in control. Not that I was about to admit that to Lincoln, who was standing in front of me, heaving like he was about to blow a fuse.
‘I was actually about to push him away when you decided to intervene and treat me like a seven-year-old,’ I said, and then I just couldn’t stop myself. ‘
And anyway, what if he did have his hands all over me? What’s it to you?’
There. The question. Well, as close as I was going to get to it.
Lincoln stared at me with green eyes that deepened to emerald in the dark. I stared straight back at him, refusing to look away, even as I felt my breathing quicken and my heart race.
I waited for what seemed like eternity until he said, ‘Vi, I…you…don’t do this.’
I could feel, almost see, rejection rampaging its way down the street. He was right. I couldn’t do this.
‘Yeah, friends. Forget it, Linc.’
I couldn’t believe I’d let Steph talk me into putting myself out there. Lincoln wasn’t interested in me. Now I’d basically made him spell it out for us both. Bravo, Vi.
I pushed past him. He grabbed my hand and swung me back towards him. Then he pushed me against the wall and…he kissed me.
He ran his thumb along my jawline and down my throat, hips pinning me to the wall. He kissed me slowly and with intensity, and once I got over the mind-numbing shock and comprehended what was actually happening, it was incredible. I had never been kissed like that before. We melted together. Every movement of mine was somehow perfectly mirrored by his. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it and I was sure my legs were giving way, but he held me up, pushed me harder against the wall.
I grabbed a handful of his hair, remembering all the times I’d dreamed of doing it. I let my hand drift down his back and pulled him even closer to me. It all happened so quickly. I heard him make a low kind of growl and lean into me. His hand slid down my leg and behind my knee, drawing it to him. I moaned and felt him tense. Suddenly he dropped me so fast I had to freaking well brace my hands on my knees to steady myself.
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