Quade slides both his hands around the edges of my jaw. His warm fingers weave into the hair at the nape of my neck. “I love you, Lace,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine.
I drag in a deep breath, preparing myself to say the words I’ve longed to say for what might as well be a thousand years. “I love you, Quade Kelly,” I say on an exhale.
I giggle against his lips as he lifts my feet off the ground and swings me around. “We need to say goodbye fast, because I need you,” Quade says in my ear.
“Enough of the PDAs already,” Lily yells out in the distance.
Way to ruin the moment.
Quade sets me down on my feet. “You go ahead. I need to calm my raging boner before I can get anywhere near your father.”
I jog back up to marquee, chuckling to myself as I think about birthdays and prize-winning boners. My uncle and aunt are nowhere to be seen. Uncle Marco must’ve taken Auntie Cat home to bed.
“Hey, Lacey!” Eden, Quade’s cousin, screeches, as I approach the marquee. Did Quade tell her I was going to be here tonight? God, I haven’t bumped into her in ages. We’ve texted back and forth about the bonfire in a fortnight, but the last time we really caught up was at the anniversary last year. She’d seemed a little out of it then—as if maybe alcohol wasn’t the only thing getting her high these days.
“Eden, hey. What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Firstly …” she wraps her arms around me and squeezes me like a vice, “I’m here to hug the crap out of you, and secondly to wish you a giant happy birthday.”
“It’s good to see you. Do you wanna stay? There’s plenty of cake.”
“No thanks. I just wanted to pop in on my way to Sydney. I’m off to see my boyfriend.” She bats her lashes, but her eyes don’t seem to find focus as she lets out a lovesick sigh.
She has a boyfriend now? I hadn’t heard. Good for her. “That’s awesome. How’s it going?”
“Great. We’re pretty serious too.”
Huh. Nice. “Well you’ll have to tell me all about him. Maybe we can catch up next week and check everything’s organised for the anniversary bonfire.”
Quade comes over to us. It takes every part of me not to look at his crotch to confirm that the boner has hidden itself from my family. Probably just looking at it will bring the beast to life again.
Eden wraps her arms around Quade and squeals as she squeezes him tight.
“What you doing here, Eden?” he says, and plants a swift kiss on her cheek.
“Saying happy birthday to your girl and talking bonfires. Are you coming to the bonfire, Quadey?” Eden asks, chipper as anything. She chews on the inside of her cheek, whipping her gaze between Quade and I several times. Is she on something? “Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” She links her hands together in front of her chest in a praying motion.
“Bonfire?” he asks, looking between us.
Shit. He probably doesn’t have a clue what we’re talking about. Why would he? His parents wouldn’t have broadcasted it. Even though every year we’ve invited them, they’ve never come. I’d always hoped that they’d change their minds.
“Every year Eden and I organise a bonfire at the beach on the fourth of November. You know, to remember.”
“Every year since Faith …”
“Yes.”
“Of course I’ll be there,” he says and smiles.
“Anyway, I gotta go.” Eden hugs Quade, waves to everyone, and jogs back up towards the car park. “See you in two weeks!”
“She’s very excitable,” Mum says, folding the checked red-and-white tablecloth.
“You got that right,” Quade says.
As the sunset fades, Quade and I help Mum and Dad pack up the remnants of dinner, putting plates and cutlery into a cardboard box. We secure leftover food in containers, and call me crazy, I think about stealing another piece of cake.
In the distance, raised voices ring out.
Both Quade and I turn towards the noise. A young girl and guy walk along the shore. He stops and grips her chin in his hand. She yells what sounds like “something has to be” and pushes his hand away.
The girl has flaming red hair, and the boy … wait, is that Byron?
It’s true, then.
“Mack,” I choke out in a small voice. Tears spills down my cheeks, sending a chill through to my bones as the wind nips at my wet skin. “She’s here.”
As if on auto-pilot, I start walking towards her. My throbbing heartbeat drums in my ears. They’re still yelling at each other. What’s going on?
A warm hand curls around my upper arm, pulling me back. “Lace, don’t,” Quade says and wraps his other arm around my shoulders, drawing me into his side.
I swipe the tears from my face. “I just need to talk to her. I can’t let her run again.”
“I don’t think now’s the time,” Quade says.
I stand and watch on, heartbreaking as it is, as my once best friend and Byron fight.
Byron holds his arms out wide. “You gonna run away again? End this, right here, right now?” he cries, his words echoing for all to hear.
Mack says something and then storms off. Head hanging low, Byron walks in the opposite direction.
My shoulders drop as I let out a resigned breath. I wish there was something I could do, but it’s been three years. Would Mack even want my help?
I guess if she did, she would have replied to my text.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Charlie bounds in our path as we walk towards my flat. He sniffs like crazy at the black plastic bag that Quade grabbed from the back of his truck a moment ago.
Here he goes, trying to get Quade’s attention. Obviously we need to have words again. Because it worked so well the first time.
“It’s my birthday, Charlie, so behave or I’ll have you neutered.” There, that should do it.
“Leave his balls alone,” Quade says and makes a tut noise.
“Well, I’m serious. This dog won’t be hampering my sex life again.”
“I’ve already thought of that. I brought a little something to keep him occupied tonight.” Quade pulls a long object free of the plastic bag.
He unravels the package revealing something that will keep Charlie tied up for most of the night. I’m dating a very smart man …
“That’s the biggest marrow bone I’ve ever seen,” I say, and gasp.
Charlie does a full-body wiggle, whining in a high-pitched tone as Quade places the treat at his feet.
Once we get inside, Quade strips off his shirt. I undo my dress and slip it down over my hips. Quade growls when it hits the floor. “Now it’s time for the real celebration.”
I giggle as he tackles me into the soft comforter on my bed.
“Happy birthday, Pepperoni Princess.”
---
“Hey, babe,” Quade’s husky voice hums beside me.
“Hey,” I grumble, rolling my head onto his rock-hard chest. As his heartbeat soothes me, I dance my fingers over the bumps of his stomach.
“How’s it feel to wake up twenty-one?” he asks.
How does it feel? I draw in a deep breath and let the events of last night play through my mind. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so content.
I press my lips to his chest for a swift kiss, wrapping my arms around his middle as I look into his dreamy blues. “Even more fabulous waking up next to you.”
“As if it wouldn’t be. I’m fabulous,” he says and winks.
“So sure of yourself, Mr Kelly.”
“Just stating a fact,” he says, smug as anything.
As if I’m going to argue with him. Facts never lie.
I run my hands over his chest, swirling my fingers over his smooth pecs. Thoughts of Mack and Byron stole precious hours of my sleep. If only I knew the facts.
“What you thinking ’bout?” Quade asks.
“Mack,” we say within a split second of each other.
I roll my eyes at him and snort. “Am I real
ly that predictable?”
“I know you, Lace. I get that it’s hard to see her and not know what’s going on in her life. You tossed and turned all night. I’m guessing that’s why.”
“It’s so hard. What about you though? How do you feel about them dating?” Surely seeing his sister’s ex with her old best friend isn’t easy for him.
“They’re both good people. I mean, yeah, it’s kind of weird that Byron was dating my sister, but we’ve all had to move on. Maybe they found common ground? They both moved to Sydney so maybe they were there for each other after all this.” He shrugs. “Who knows?”
“I just want answers.”
“How unusual.”
I poke him in the chest. He winces and lets out a hearty laugh.
“I want to know how she is, what she’s doing. I miss her. Is it selfish that I want her back in my life?”
He sweeps the loose strands of hair on the side of my face and tugs them behind my ear. “Not at all. You were close.”
“How do I do it, though? I don’t want to force myself on her. I shouldn’t have to.”
“You need to find the right time. Last night definitely wasn’t it.”
“Yeah. I know.”
I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest. As his breaths draw in and out I remember Mack storming away into the night and Byron taking off in the other direction. Whatever it was they were arguing about, I hope she’s okay. From what we witnessed, I’m guessing their relationship might be over.
“I’ve had something on my mind too, but didn’t want to say anything yesterday.”
My eyes spring open and I swing my head to look Quade in the eye. Does he know something more about the Mack and Byron saga? “What?”
His arms tighten around me. “I ran into Pete Fairfield yesterday.”
“Oh, you did?” My heart thumps harder. What the hell did Pete say this time? My breaths grow shorter. Please don’t let Pete get between us.
“He won’t be a problem for us anymore. I’ve sorted it,” Quade says in a firm voice.
“You sorted it? Like how?”
“I told him that if he wants to co-exist in the same town as me, he’d better get used to us being together. If he runs off at the mouth again, it’ll be the last time he has a full set of teeth.”
“Look at you getting all protective and stuff,” I joke, smoothing my hand over his heart. Such a big heart.
“I’ll always protect those I love.”
Words to melt a girl’s heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
For the last six nights, Quade and I have seen each other whenever we could. We love life in our own little love-drunk coma, oblivious to what’s happening in the world around us. It’s strange how I seem to act like I’m on auto-pilot everywhere else and come alive when I’m with Quade.
“Eyes on the road, Peppi,” Quade growls and points to the bitumen ahead.
“Okay,” I mumble as I take my eyes off him and prepare to reverse parallel park on my street. Both Mum and Quade parked their cars out front earlier, leaving just the right gap between their vehicles for mine. Mum better not be watching me from the window again.
“I know we’ve been driving every arvo, but don’t slack off. The driving instructor will be watching your every move.”
I roll my eyes because there’s no point arguing with him. I know he’s right. Sometimes he can just be so bossy when he’s in the passenger seat.
I look in the rear-vision mirror, turn the wheel to swing out on an angle and then turn the wheel back. The wheels line up right next to the curb, the perfect distance between both cars. I pull on the handbrake and then switch off the car. Unable to stop myself, I fist-pump the air.
“Totally nailed that,” I brag. After this afternoon’s effort, I’m feeling good.
Quade unbuckles his seatbelt and turns his upper body to face me. “You’re ready to do the test, Lace. You need to book it.”
I know in myself I’ve improved in both skill and confidence. The problem is, am I really ready to take the plunge? What if the instructor takes me down Surfers Road and I have a panic attack or something? What if I need heaps more practise?
“Maybe before Christmas I’ll grow a pair, and then I’ll book it in.” That totally didn’t come out right.
“Babe, I’d prefer it if I was the only one in this relationship with balls, ’kay?”
I lean across and press my lips to his cheek. “’Kay. Come on, let’s get inside. Mum’s roast dinner should be just about ready.”
“I could eat a whole lamb,” Quade says as we walk up the driveway.
“Oh, don’t worry. Mum will look after you.”
Quade’s phone beeps in his pocket. He pulls the device from his shorts. A deep groan rumbles in the back of his throat as he scans over the display.
“What is it?”
“My mother telling me to come get my bloody boxes.”
Wow. What’s with her attitude? She’s had them for years and years and now they’re a problem? “What did she say?”
“Basically that they’re away this weekend for a fundraiser, and she would appreciate it if I made the effort for a change and got rid of them before they get back.’’
“Wow. They’re really causing her that much grief?”
Quade lets out a deep sigh. He slips the phone away and squeezes my hand as we round the path to my door. “Yup. Looks like we’re going to my parents’ place after work tomorrow.”
I open the front door. Mum is only a few feet away to greet us. She was totally watching me park. She spreads her arms open wide to Quade, offering her warm embrace to him before her own flesh and blood. Ha. She’s totally smitten with my man. And that makes me smile.
When his own mother addresses him by text like that, who knows how she speaks to him to his face? In comparison, he must love coming to my place.
---
“We’ll be in and out in no time, Lace,” Quade assures me, as he turns the silver key in the lock of his childhood home.
As the door opens, the afternoon sun beams into the immaculate, tiled entry. It’s so clean, sterile even. Not a single thing is out of place. No piles of sneakers kicked off at the door or schoolbags tossed besides the wall like there was when we were in high school. I step inside, taking it all in. I’m back in the Kelly house. It’s so creepy.
The air vacates from my lungs in a whoosh as I gaze up the grand stairs, drawing me back to the night of graduation. Goosebumps rage over my skin, sending the hairs on my neck to prickle up like an echidna. My heart sinks when I notice the absence of the family photos that were once staggered in beautiful timber frames up the wall.
A warm hand tugs at my wrist, drawing my gaze to Quade wearing a soft smile.
“Come on,” he says in a soft voice. “Let’s go outside.”
We walk through to the back deck which has an uninterrupted multi-million-dollar view of the ocean. We head down the side stairs, walking into a posh garden straight from a magazine with large sandstone urns and professionally shaped hedges. Every plant looks as though it is where it was destined to be, trimmed to perfection and no doubt well fed and watered, judging by the glossy sheen to their leaves and flowers standing proud, not a brown petal in sight.
The swimming pool is a sparkling crystal blue, the glass fencing surrounding it free of dust and smudges. Two lazy beach chairs sit beneath an expansive black umbrella at the far end of the pool area. Does it even get used anymore? The pool area now looks like one you’d see in a magazine, with snaps of the rich and famous lounging around it. There’s no life here, though. No assortment of brightly coloured beach towels slung over the fence—no pool noodles tossed around, or giant inflatable flamingos floating in the water. I miss those pool parties.
The cubby house is still tucked away in the back corner of the property. Ivy has grown up the sides, disguising it somewhat. By looking around at the rest of the yard, I’m guessing this is intentional. The white paint is lifting in areas
on the weatherboard walls, but other than that it looks okay. Were Quade and I the last ones to go inside?
“Can you please scan for critters, first?” I ask, and bat my eyelashes.
“Yeah, of course.” He walks towards the garden shed and returns with a spray can, and a dustpan and broom.
After a few minutes of spraying and sweeping, Quade exits the timber cottage, strands of sticky cobwebs clinging to his shoulders.
“You’re good to go,” he says.
With tentative steps, I lower my head and creep inside. The writing on the walls has faded, but every marking is still there. I thought maybe Mrs Kelly would have painted over it, or demolished it altogether. Thankfully, she didn’t.
I sit on the bench, which seems to have shrunk since I last sat here. It’s so sad that the place where my childhood thrived is also the place where it died.
I imagine Faith sitting on the timber floorboards, legs crossed, up to her elbows in a giant bag of salt and vinegar chips.
Quade pokes his head in through the open doorway. “If you need a minute, I can get started with the boxes,” he says, jerking his thumb towards the house.
“No, come in.” I shuffle farther down the seat as he steps inside. Quade stares at the bench, his brows together, creating a line in the middle of his forehead.
“Might be safer to sit on the floor,” he says and crouches down, leaning his bent elbow on the seat for support.
I take the Sharpie pen from my satchel and do what I should have done years ago. Heat prickles at my cheeks as I trace over the first two words, making it clear who is the object of my affection.
LM
loves
QK
I sit back down admiring my handiwork, hooking my arm over Quade’s broad shoulders.
“That so?” he says, snatching the pen from me.
He stands taller but still hunched, and poises the pen over a blank area not far from the fresh ink.
QK
loves
PP
I huff. “Way to make a girl feel special.”
He rolls his eyes. “Relax. PP is for Pepperoni Princess. Duh.”
Losing Faith (Surfers Way) Page 20