Marbella Cool

by Oster, Camille

  “Completely understandable,” Hannah said. “He can’t just expect to get a free pass. He needs to prove himself.”

  Trish’s mind turned to the texts he’d sent her during the week. She’d only responded to half of them and only in a very tentative way. She didn’t know if she should tell the girls he’d asked her for a drink, just the two of them. That was one of the texts she hadn’t responded to. Maybe she should. Perhaps she owed it to herself to see if there really was any future there.

  The conversation moved onto Lachlan and the changes he’d shown lately. Trish only half followed along, feeling like this thing with Cory was trapping her in place, unable to move forwards or backwards. Was she able to do anything other than see where it led? Being trapped like this sucked. She just had to know one way or another.

  A ham and egg croissant was offered and she ate it like a sandwich, her stomach feeling more settled afterwards.

  “Let’s go for a walk down the beach,” Amber suggested. “It’s such a beautiful day.”

  Trish waited at one of the free tables, sitting on a square leather stool. The drink was expensive, but she would only have a couple. With a sigh, she checked her watch. He’d told her he’d be here, but he was only a few minutes late. It felt like an eternity to her, partially because she’d turned up ten minutes early.

  She saw him pull up next to the bar on his motorcycle, braking to stopping and then sitting up straight, still astride his bike. Just seeing the curve of his back, how it narrowed to those tight hips of his made her melt. He was just so damned hot. She couldn’t help rubbing her knees together. That was the reaction he caused in her; her inside melted, along with her defences.

  The helmet came off and he looked over at her, smiling, before stepping off the bike. He wore leather bike pants and they waist formed a little ‘v’, practically an arrow pointing tight down to his crotch.

  Trish smiled. It was ridiculous how she reacted around him. Everything about him screamed sex, and he admitted he had little control around her either. Two people who just burned hot for each other, but maybe that just made it too hot.

  “You started without me,” he said, almost accusatory.

  “The bus came a little early.”

  “You should have let me pick you up.” She could just imagine the girls staring out the window, watching her go off on her ‘date’. This wasn’t a date; it was just a couple of drinks to see where they stood.

  “I’ve moved back in with the girls,” Trish said.

  “Oh. I didn’t know you had.”

  “That American girl did a runner and my old room was still empty, so it made sense.”

  “I’m glad. I didn’t like you being on your own all the time.”

  Trish bit the inside of her cheek. She was kind of flattered he was concerned for her. It wasn’t necessary, obviously, but it still felt good.

  “I’ll just get a drink,” he said and walked to the bar. Trish turned her attention to the view, forcing herself to get some perspective. Why did he want to have these drinks anyway? She needed to know. It was probably the main reason she’d come.

  “I’m going to cook in these pants,” he said as he sat down with a beer.

  “Not the most practical.”

  “They’re great when you’re moving and necessary if you come off, but as soon as you stop, they’re a pain in the arse.”

  For a moment, Trish considered his intentions. It obviously hadn’t been to stay long. Then she hated that she analysed every single thing he did or said. There was never going to be any joy in hanging with him if she double guessed everything he said. She just couldn’t help it.

  “You look good,” he said as he finally made himself comfortable.

  She frickin blushed, not really able to think of a way to hide it. He smiled that smile that just hit her in the gut, almost wishing she could tell him to stop it. It wasn’t his fault he smiled like that though, was it? And she would be a complete nut to tell him to stop smiling.

  “How have you been?”

  “Good.”

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “Me, too,” she said, although she wasn’t entirely sure she was. She’d changed her mind repeatedly, at one point having started to write the text cancelling it, until she told herself off for being an utter coward.

  He grabbed some peanuts and started popping them in his mouth, crunching down on each. “How is it living with the girls again?”

  “It feels a bit cramped once you’re used to your own space. I know Shania was there, but she wasn’t really there, ever. She always stayed with that guy she was with, so it kind of became my own space. It’s hard to go back to full on flatting after.”

  “I can imagine. It must get lonely though.”

  Trish shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes, but you know, you can always go visit someone. How’s work?”

  “Good. Nothing much to report. Same old.”

  Sleeping with any of the patrons? she wanted to ask, but didn’t.

  He smiled again and heat flared in her gut. How did he manage to do that every time? And did she have the same effect on him? Putting her elbows on the table, she dragged the knuckles of one hand across her lips.

  “I’m glad we can hang out again,” he said after a moment of silence. He looked sincere. He looked relieved.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “We’ve been talking about going up to Germany for the beer fest. You should come.”

  She hadn’t done that yet. Images of them hanging out in Germany flashed through her mind. Cold weather, warm fires, all snuggled up, exploring a new and foreign place. “Sounds like fun.”

  He smiled and Trish’s eyes shifted to his lips.

  They spoke about their families for a bit and other travel plans. They also spoke about when Adelaide was likely to return.

  Then he checked his watch. “I need to go,” he said.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Can I give you a ride home?”

  “No, I’m meeting Amber in a bit. We’re going to walk around the stores for a bit.”

  “You working tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded and rose, waiting for her to join him. His hand rested on her back as they walked out of the bar.

  “You know, let’s do this again,” he said. “It’s nice when it’s just us.”

  “Yep,” Trish said, a flush travelling up her body. It did sound nice.

  “I know it sounds corny, but maybe we could catch a movie or something.”

  “Could be done,” Trish said, feeling herself blush. This felt so awkward, but also so incredibly sweet. This was what they should have always been. They stood by his bike and he reached his hand up behind her neck and drew her into a kiss. She hadn’t quite expected it, but sweetness suffused her mind. His lips were firm and demanding, his want naked in the kiss. He tasted divine and he deepened the kiss, stepping a little closer until they were flush next to each other. Her hand travelled up his hip, resting there. Her core ached for him.

  The kiss broke and he breathed heavily against her cheek. “You know I am never going to get enough of that,” he said, his voice rough. “You fucking undo me.”

  Trish’s lips ached for more, the coolness of the air stinging them. To continue kissing was all she wanted right now, but he stepped away. This was neither the time nor the place, and she was sorry. When she’d see him again, she didn’t know. He looked regretful at ending the kiss and pressed his lips together, finally pulling her head in for a quick kiss on her temple before he turned to his bike and straddled it, turning the engine on.

  “I’ll see you later, yeah?” he said.

  Trish folded her arms around her. Her lips still ached as she stepped away from him. “Yeah,” she said because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She gave him a small wave and started walking away. She really felt like she was walking on clouds. That expression was real. Turning back, she saw him still looking at her and she smiled. Every part of her
body was on edge and she heard him drive away as she kept walking.

  Maybe he really was serious about pulling his shit together. It did sound that way, and that was beyond exciting—them actually being a couple.

  Chapter 22

  Esme was cool. She had this natural assurance that didn’t make her second guess herself, while still allowing her to be goofy.

  “I have nothing to wear,” Emse announced, standing by her closet, shoving hanger after hanger aside.

  “You have a million things to wear,” Shania said, lying on the bed, flipping through a magazine.

  “This would suit you,” Esme said, holding out a bright pink dress.

  It wasn’t really Shania’s style, predominantly the dress part, but it was okay. “Eh,” Shania said non-commitally and returned her attention to the magazine.

  “You’re impossible to dress. You just can’t go looking all Soho chic. You need to wear a dress.”

  “Fine, I will wear whatever you want.”

  “Really?” She could hear the glee in Esme’s voice.

  “Within reason.”

  “Spoil sport.”

  “Fine, this once I will let you dress me however you want.” It was an uncomfortable concession, but Esme had been dying to dress her.

  “Can I burn those pants?”

  “No, they’re my tough girl pants; I need them.”

  “They certainly manage to fend off Felix, which is saying something,” Esme said, holding a dress in front of her, looking in the mirror. “This one,” she said and Shania looked up, seeing a lilac flowery dress with an uneven neckline and a flaring skirt.

  “You’re fucking kidding.”

  “You did promise. I get to do your hair, too.”

  “Did you just grow up to play with bigger dolls?”

  “Certainly did. Now which shoes?”

  “I know you’re doing this to make me feel uncomfortable.”

  Esme gave her a pointed look. Shania knew Esme was intent on ‘expanding her horizons’. Personally Shania was still convinced that Esme loved to see how uncomfortable it made her, or maybe how uncomfortable it made her brother—who hated her being there. He’d made that obvious since day one.

  For some reason, she and Esme clicked. Their differences were stark; they’d actually spent a bit of time exploring just that issue. They had nothing in common and Shania wasn’t sure why Esme liked her so much. They were thick as thieves and Shania didn’t know if it would last, but for now, they were like sisters. It wasn’t what Shania had expected when she’d called Esme, or maybe it had been a subconscious knowledge from the moment she’d met her. She’d like to think so. Shania liked having a best friend. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it until she’d gotten to know Esme.

  Tierry was just gone, no sign of him. It had hurt to realise she’d been dumped in a shit storm of trouble, abandoned to fend for herself. She hadn’t expected it; she probably should have, but it was still a surprise to her when people acted callously. Considering how she’d grown up, she really shouldn’t be surprised. She didn’t know what it was a testament to, maybe her mother, who despite it all had managed to raise a daughter who saw the best in people. Shania wasn’t running around seeing roses and rainbows everywhere, but she tended to have the ability to see people’s insecurities and fears, and that made her see the other person’s point of view, even if they were total fuckwads.

  But then she wasn’t used to being despised and that was exactly what emanated off Felix. He hadn’t been around that much, but when he was and saw her still there, his mouth screwed up in distaste.

  “Alright, hurry up, we have to go.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes,” Esme said and threw the dress at her.

  After Shania got up and pulled her t-shirt off, she scrambled the dress on. It fit perfectly. The lilac colour made her skin look paler and it toned down some of her curves, which her low-cut pants accentuated. Esme handed her something. “A hairband?” Shania said disbelievingly. “You’re making me look like a twelve year-old.”

  Actually she looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. So that was how they did it, with clothes like this. She’d never been able to develop the ability to convert those looks to real life, and they weren’t really looks that worked where she came from. In LA or New York, she would probably look like she fit right in, but if she wore this at home, everyone would assume she was going to a baptism or something.

  “You look stunning. And no, aviator sunnies do not go with the look. Here, try these,” Esme said, handing her a pair of nude heels. Putting them down, Shania tried them on. Okay, the heels were sexy, in an understated way.

  Esme wore this pink tulle dress with ribbons sewn into it at odd angles. It looked good, making Esme look like a Barbie doll. Her cheeks were perfectly round, plump pink lips and the clearest blue eyes Shania had ever seen. Esme looked good in everything. “Not bad,” she said and walked to the door. “Come on.”

  Shania followed her down the stairs, feeling air circulating around her thighs. It wasn’t typical she wore skirts. Even at Shine, she’d insisted on wearing pants. As much as she hated it, she did feel self-conscious in this outfit. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t her.

  “Daddy,” Esme said to a man standing downstairs in a sharp suit. “You’re finally here. This is my friend Shania; she’s staying with us for a while.”

  “Hello, Shania,” the man said. He had a cool, handsome face, the lines only making him look more distinguished. She saw a little of Felix in him, but Felix had a darker complexion. “I’m Dominic Dunbury.”

  “Hi,” she said, smiling self-consciously as Esme’s father considered her. She had a little clutch she didn’t know what to do with. Normally Shania used her pockets for storing stuff.

  “We’re ready to go,” Esme said.

  “Just waiting on Felix.”

  “Are you sure he’s coming?” Esme asked in a way that showed he wasn’t always reliable.

  “He’s just coming now.”

  Felix’s steps were heard on the stairs as he came down, his eyes travelling to Shania and narrowing. “Hello, Father,” he said.

  “We’re all here,” Dominic said and turned to the entrance.

  “One too many,” Felix said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear.

  A limousine waited outside, muted grey, only slightly longer than a normal car. This was not the limousine girls turn up in on their bachelorette parties, this was something else entirely, but there were enough seats inside.

  Shania tried to arrange her skirt so she wasn’t flashing. If she didn’t do this right, she’d be showing her underwear to all and sundry.

  “How long have you been back?” Esme asked her father.

  “I arrived this morning,” he said, sitting back comfortably in the car. He looked so assured and relaxed. Felix did the same, although he was staring out the window, which was tinted dark.

  After a short ride they arrived at a house. This must be the party Esme had insisted they go to. Shania would have been happy to stay home on her own, but Esme wouldn’t hear of it. The drawback of being a house guest was that you had to do what the host wanted. Not that Shania strictly minded; she was just out of her depth on so many levels.

  Esme saw a girl and ran over to greet her. Her father proceeded into the house and Shania waited for Esme, hoping she wasn’t going to be abandoned.

  She jumped when Felix appeared behind her. “Dressing up just makes you a prettier whore,” he said viciously in her ear. “You don’t belong here and you never will.”

  He walked past her as if he’d never said anything and continued into the party. Shania bit her lips together, intent on ignoring the blatant insult. She was learning quickly that wealth and breeding didn’t equate to generosity, but then Esme had said plainly what a bastard her brother could be.

  Chapter 23

  “And this is Cory. He will see to anything you need while you are here,�
� Rufus smiled at the gorgeous girl who stood in front of them in white shorts and a yellow polo shirt, her eyes hidden behind mirrored aviators. Everything about her looked toned and tanned—Mirabel Sunning, the current tenth seed in the world of professional tennis. She was a little on the short side compared to her competition, but everything about her looked perfect, including the light brown hair up in a ponytail. Even her hair was silky.

  “That’s great,” she said, little trace left of her Austrian heritage. She’d spent years at UCLA on their tennis programme, putting off going pro for a while, which had been a huge risk, but she had taken it. It had cut down the number of tournaments she had attended each year, but things were changing now. She was now at a stage of just going for it, unleashing on the world.

  Cory knew all this. He’d never met her, but did count himself a bit of a fan boy. And now he would serve her while she trained. The tennis courts were pretty much all hers from nine to three each day, the club members accommodating to having a pro and up and coming star at their club. It only added to the prestige, as if the people here belonged in her midst.

  “Alright, let’s see it,” she said, holding up her hands in a shrug.

  “This way,” Rufus said, insisting on providing a personal tour of the place. “The gym facilities are in here. There is a pool, of course. Cory, here, is one of the qualified life guards. We have racket ball courts, a general gymnasium, a group room, and of course the tennis courts. Three in total, state of the art. Full lights are available for night-time use.”

  “They walked down the stairs to the door leading down to the tennis courts.” Rufus went on to show the facilities, including the fully stocked kitchen, and the snack bar, the drinks bar, of course. Anything she could possibly want, they could do for her. And Cory would be the one to convey her request. It was his job to sort anything she wanted.

  Mirabel walked around the green turf of the tennis court.

  “There is a clay court over there,” Rufus said brightly.

  She nodded slightly, then walked back. “This will do.”