by Ash Harlow
“How?”
“I’m talking to a professional about it.”
That’s not a complete lie. I am talking to someone. A stranger. Several times a week in an online chat room. I don’t know if it’s accurate to call this person professional, but they write erotica, so I guess that’s some sort of qualification when it comes to orgasms. And whoever it is (I think it’s a guy) lives overseas so I’ll never have the humiliation of running into him. The anonymity gives me a wonderful sense of freedom.
I want to tell Terra that the “frisson” I’m looking for is real. I feel it when I log in to the chat room and find Doctor O is online.
Doctor O. Cheesy name, I know, but he’s fun, and so are the other chat room users.
“Good, I’m glad to hear you’re getting help. I hate to think of you missing out.”
“Terra. I love you. I always will. But this is my body, and my complication, and most of me wishes I’d never mentioned anything about it to you.”
Terra looks hurt. “I bought you another vibrator. It’s this new shape and the reviews say it—”
“Please, Terra, stop buying me things. Thanks to you, I have a larger sex toy collection than a dominatrix.”
“Well, just say if you want it.”
“Sure,” I say, draining my beer. “I’ve got to go. Farewell dinner for the parents.”
We stand together and hug. “Give your folks my love, and tell them to relax and have a great vacation,” Terra says.
“I will.”
***
We’re at the airport by ten the following morning. My parents have worked hard their entire lives, dedicating themselves to the primary care of the local residents and visitors to this region. Among a lot of things Queenstown is famous for, it’s a popular ski resort, and winter is one of the busiest times of the year. Joints, bones, cartilage and ligaments come in for some serious punishment on the ski slopes. This is the first winter my parents have had off since taking over the main medical practice twenty-five years ago. Their vacation takes them to the US and Europe to enjoy three months of summer.
Beside me, they’re bristling with nervous energy.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” I tell them. “Noah’s coming in on the flight which is twenty minutes away. You know all of this.”
“I worry that he may have missed his connection,” Mom says.
“He’s not that irresponsible teenager any more, Felicity,” Dad says. “If he’d missed a connection, he’d have been in contact.”
A message comes over the PA system. “They’re calling you to the gate,” I tell them. “You’re going to be the ones who miss your connection. Go, now. Have fun. Send postcards, and for heaven’s sake, don’t phone every day. I want you to forget about us. We’ll be fine.”
We link arms and make our way to the security area. Dad’s excited, and trying not to show it. Mom fusses about the impending bad weather. “We live in the mountains,” I tell her. “Storms are part of our lives. Go and enjoy your sunshine.” We kiss and hug goodbye—again—then they finally disappear through the door, waving all the way.
I head for the cafe to grab a coffee before Noah’s flight arrives. I was sixteen when he left to study emergency medicine in the US. I recall what a bad and handsome boy he was when he first showed up at our house with my brother, Cam. As a child, I found him somewhat intimidating. He’d been raised rough in what was little more than a hut halfway up a mountain, midway between Glenorchy and Queenstown. He had a father who liked cheap whisky and a mother who liked more home comforts than their spartan cabin provided. She left the region, and Noah, when he was a boy.
My parents saw something in Noah that most others couldn’t see. I’m not saying they turned him around in a year because it wasn’t like that. But they were patient with him, and nurtured him when other parents went no further than warning their sons about hanging out with a kid like him. Noah’s transformation was gradual, but he paid my parents back by earning a scholarship to medical school and graduating with honors—and a lot more tattoos than the ones he’d had when he first left town.
Medical school hadn’t entirely removed the bad from the boy.
I collect my coffee and take a seat at one of the large windows that look over the airport runway and the Remarkables mountain range behind. It’s a crystal-clear day, no sign of the storm Mom’s predicting. Commercial planes, private jets and helicopters come and go as if to prove Queenstown is a popular playground for everyone—rich, famous and ordinary. I find I’m holding my breath as my parents’ plane lifts off, then do the same when, minutes later, Noah’s plane touches down.
I haven’t seen him for seven years. When I was sixteen, I thought he was hot, and totally beyond reach. I wonder what I’ll think today.
3 ~ Noah
Queenstown is more beautiful than I remember, if that’s possible. We exit the plane onto the tarmac and have to follow the painted lines across to the terminal. I make it just a few steps before I stop.
Sure, there’s the visual shock of beauty in the sharp, clear alpine day, but, my god, the air. I inhale and taste something so sweet and crisp, I have to do it again, deeper, longer, and again.
More than once I’ve ducked into a supply room and sucked on pure oxygen to clear my head of a hangover, but this stuff? It’s like detox by breathing. Maybe it’s something to do with having been stuck on planes and inside airport terminals for the past twenty-four hours, but I swear, if you bottled this air you’d make a fortune selling it to the citizens of smog-choked cities.
Passengers brush past me, and a woman in a high-viz jacket pats my shoulder and points to the terminal.
“It’s even more fun on the other side,” she says.
I hear the accents of home. The rolled r’s of the southerners, and the nasal twang of just about everybody else. For the moment, it sounds foreign but I’ll be used to it in a day. My last flight was domestic from Auckland to Queenstown so there are no formalities beyond staying between the painted lines until I reach the terminal. Two sets of doors later and I’m standing in the bustling hub looking around, wondering who is here to meet me.
Just about everyone is dressed as if they’re about to embark on a hike, or climb a mountain. Typical New Zealand. It’s like one giant outdoor adventure and everyone’s raring to go. And like every other airport terminal in the world, the passengers arriving just want to collect their luggage and leave.
I’m expecting Cam will be the one to meet me but I can’t see his sandy blond hair, usually visible above the crowd. Then I hear my name.
“Hey, Noah.”
I swing around. The hot girl I’d glanced at sitting in the picture window when I’d first entered the terminal is smiling at me. She’s gorgeous. She’s…holy shit.
“Steffi?” I drop my carry-on bag and hold out my arms as she runs towards me. I don’t know if it’s appropriate to hug her given that she’s so very grown-up, and fucking hot. Something from the depths of my primitive brain is screaming, yes-yes-yes. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a bright-orange, tight-fitting pullover, and as her arms wrap around me I feel every curve of her body that wasn’t there when I hugged her goodbye seven years ago.
It’s with reluctance that I release my hold of her, and she tips her head back and grins. She has her mother’s full mouth and beautiful skin.
“You made it,” she says.
It must be jetlag because I can’t turn away from her sparkling eyes. Green so pale they’re almost gray, like the lichen that grows on the rocks up in the Rees Valley. Memories I’d blocked to keep my focus solely on achieving my qualifications as an emergency physician in one of the most demanding ER departments in the US bombard me. I hadn’t allowed myself to yearn for this place, but now that I’m here I finally feel as though my journey is complete.
“Yes, I made it,” I say. “You look amazing. Where did the tomboy go, Steve?” I used the nickname we gave her as a kid. No girl stuff for Steffi, she always tagged along wit
h us guys. Biking, skateboarding, skiing, climbing. She was like our little shadow, keeping up, never complaining, just wanting to be one of the gang.
She laughs. The sound has matured, but I can still detect the remnants of the way she giggled. “Don’t you worry, Steve’s still there. What’s your challenge? Climbing? Mountain biking? Kayaking? Blindfolded base jumping?”
We’re walking towards the baggage claim area and I realize I’m holding her hand. I release my grip and latch onto a stray baggage trolley instead. I’ve got a lot of bags to pick up. “The challenge today is to get me to a hot shower, then you can take me on a tour of the town. Show me what’s changed.”
“Cool. I’ve got the day off. Tomorrow we’re into it, but we can talk about all that later. Cam’s in Wellington schmoozing our member of parliament and the powers-that-be at the Health Ministry. He’ll be back for the weekend. Until then, you’ve got me.”
“Sounds great.” Too good to be true, if I’m honest. “Where am I staying?”
“At the house with me. There’s no accommodation to be had around town. They can’t build fast enough to house people. I guess if you decide to stay you’ll look at buying something.”
We’re outside the terminal, breathing that sweet air again. “I can’t imagine pulling myself away from here again,” I say, and for an instant I wonder if I’m referring to the town, or something else.
“There’s your sparkling new medical center,” Steffi says, pointing to the construction site. It’s situated near the airport which will be useful for people brought in by helicopter which is a regular occurrence through the ski season.
“Looks like a bomb site.”
“You’d be surprised, it’s nearly complete inside. The landscaping and parking lot come last. We’re right on schedule. The radiology department, complete with MRI, is due to open in three weeks.”
“I feel pretty lucky to be arriving at this stage of the project. All the hard work’s done.”
Steffi laughs. “All the hard work’s about to begin. Remember, you’re only one of the investors. There are some hard-nosed corporate types who’ve poured money into this. They’ll expect their pound of flesh, not to mention world-class medical care for their families.”
“What’s happening in town?” I ask. The traffic jam is city-like.
“This never clears. There’s no off-season for tourists these days.”
Home, with the medical rooms attached, is perched on the edge of a steep slope. The views over the lake are stunning.
“You’re in your old room,” Steffi says, following me into the house with two of my bags. I’d told her to leave them, that they were heavy, but she rolled her eyes and gave me a look that reminded me of sixteen-year-old Steve.
I shower and change into fresh clothes and feel halfway human again when I join Steffi in the kitchen. I’ll have to stop myself from staring at her all the time because even though she was never an ugly duckling, she certainly has transformed into a swan.
“Can I make you coffee and eggs?” she asks.
“Just coffee, thanks.” I go to the window. Below us is the town sitting hard against the edge of Lake Wakatipu. The SS Earnslaw, an Edwardian steamship that makes regular trips from the town across the lake to Walter Peak High Country Station on the far shore, has just left the dock. This is so far from the Dallas cityscape it’s surreal.
Steffi joins me at the window and I can smell her no-nonsense barely floral scent over the aroma of brewing coffee.
“Have you made the right decision, coming home?” she asks.
“I don’t know, yet. Looking after the practice while your parents are away is the perfect opportunity to help me make a decision on my future. Do I want that contract at the medical center? I think I do.”
“You don’t think you’re going to find this boring after the adrenaline-filled life of an emergency physician? You’re going to see a lot of colds, flu and broken limbs.”
“I’m not going to miss the frequency of gunshot and knife wounds. How many of those have you seen in the last year?”
“Two shooting victims. Both were hunting accidents. A few knife wounds but they were all self-inflicted during the course of preparing food. None as the result of malice.”
“Said no vegetable ever,” I tease.
This time, Steffi giggles. She makes the coffee and we go out to the terrace to drink it.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to while I’ve been away.” I want her to say she has a boyfriend so that I can shut down this unsettling attraction I have towards her. It’s not the kind of attraction I can just fuck away. For a start, I owe her parents everything. Without their guidance I’d probably have ended up in prison, so these thoughts I’m having about their daughter is not the right way to show my gratitude.
“Growing up. Studying. Getting my degree. I’m going to manage the medical center. You know that, right? It’s a big job. Nothing like managing the parent’s practice. The shareholders are demanding. It’s a huge responsibility, and I’m sure the board could have brought in someone much better qualified than me, from another area, or even overseas.”
“You must have impressed them.”
She shrugs and sips her coffee.
“What about your personal life. Still doing all that wild outdoors stuff? You look fit.”
“Yeah, everything. How could you not when you live in a place like this?”
Fuck it. I have to ask. “Boyfriend? Let me guess. Trevor Thompson. I remember he always had his eye on you. Well, mainly on your ass, though occasionally I saw some eye contact.”
Steffi shoves her finger in her mouth and pretends to gag. “I went as his partner to the senior’s ball, but we didn’t make it beyond the first pass he made at me which was the moment he got me into the car. I slapped him. Maybe a bit hard because when we got to the function center he still had one red cheek.”
“Serves him right. Little prick. What about Jonny Gandy? I recall he had the hots for you, too.”
“Jonny was sweet. We went out a couple of times when we were at university, but it didn’t last. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the guys. Turned out he was gay.”
“So, who now?”
“Nobody. I’m off men, I’ve decided. Nothing more than a string of disappointments. Anyway, I’m too busy.”
I stare down the lake in case Steffi notices my relief.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s show you around the little town that grew.”
4 ~ Steffi
I don’t know what’s worse. Being alone in the house with the hot doctor, or at close quarters in the SUV. Noah was always handsome, but he’s matured into something devastating, complete with a sexy Texan edge to his accent, and something I struggle to nail down. It’s confidence without arrogance. He’s softened, somewhat, yet still has that hard edge as though he’s containing a dangerous side.
When he looks at me his gaze lingers for a fraction, as if he’s trying to figure me out.
In the car, I’m babbling. I don’t want to be nervous around Noah, but I am. We pretty much grew up together, so this should be no different than having Cam in the car with me.
Except, Cam is my brother. Noah isn’t. Noah is one hundred percent man. You could bottle him, spray his scent around and use it as a lure for reluctant women. This is so wrong. I need Terra here to talk me down.
Terra. She’ll have a meltdown when she meets Noah, as will half the women around town. Our medical practice is too busy as it is, but I fear we’re going to have an epidemic of hypochondria once word gets out about Doctor Osbourne.
We drive into Kingston, at the bottom end of the lake. It’s a tiny settlement that doesn’t get a lot of sun at this time of the day and we’re hit by a bitter breeze the moment we step out of the car.
“Damn, I’d forgotten what this felt like. The Kingston breeze. Too lazy to go around you, so it goes right through you.” Noah is stretching his arms wide and sucking in the cool air. His jeans fit perfectly. His boo
ts are uber-cool, and the jacket is something understated and expensive. He might have been working hard, but it looks as though the hospital paid him well for his efforts.
It is cold, and it was probably stupid to suggest going for a walk, but I knew it would be quiet and we’d be unlikely to run into anyone we knew. I want Noah to myself for a few hours before I unleash the full force of his hotness into the highly competitive social scene of Queenstown. It’s the only game I can’t win.
“You’re right. It’s freezing. We can keep driving if you like.”
“I haven’t gone soft, Steffi,” he says, taking my scarf from my hands and wrapping it around my neck. He holds the ends so that our faces are only inches apart. His warm breath mingles with the cool breeze and, for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. My body reacts in a way I’m not accustomed to. Between my legs feels heavy and I squeeze my thighs together. Trust my body to decide it’s attracted to the only man I can’t have.
Noah is almost family, and we’re going to work together in the sort of environment that needs everyone to function as a team. That’s two strikes against him. The third one? He’s way too handsome and once he sees the gorgeous women this town attracts, I doubt he’ll notice me. My cheeks heat because he’s still looking at me. “Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Yes, and no. You’ve grown up, Steffi, into a beautiful woman. For some reason, I wasn’t prepared for that. ”
“Thanks. Good genes, I guess,” I say, feeling my face erupt into a full-on blush. I tug the ends of my scarf from his grip. “Are those city boots too precious for the Shirt Tail track? I thought we could walk up to the waterfall.”
“These boots can go anywhere,” he assures me. “Let’s go.”
It’s a relatively steep climb through beautiful beech forest to the waterfall. There’s nobody else around. It feels as if the world could end and, up here, we’d be none the wiser. I go close to the edge of the falls to watch the water tumble over and around rocks covered in moss and ferns.