“You’d be surprised,” Scott answered, taking the bookends from Ava’s hands and bringing them to the counter before she overthought them. As she watched him saunter to the counter with Ava’s pasalubong, she wondered just how Scott could surprise her.
It was already lunchtime, so on Wayan’s recommendation, they drove over to the Petanu River Restaurant in Mas Village. Like the community temple, Petanu was practically empty. But the restaurant looked big enough to accommodate a small village. It had started to rain, and a cool, pleasant mist had spread through the space.
“You will eat upstairs,” Wayan informed them, following the waitress who led them to their table. “Don’t worry about anything, I will order you the best bebek in Bali.” Then he ushered them toward their table, ignoring their invitations for him to join them for lunch.
When they saw where they were going to be eating, both Scott and Ava were speechless. The restaurant was actually standing on a gaping cliff, with a murky brown river rushing below them. The walls of the cliff were made of lush trees and shrubs of every shape and shade of green. The whole view was enveloped in the cool fog of rain, making the leaves dance and the whole view come alive. They walked together to the edge of the restaurant, the winds and the rain whipping around them.
“I visited a place like this when I was little,” Ava commented, leaning on the wooden railing provided for guests. The rain didn’t seem to bother her at all. “I remember bathing in the river on our way to Baguio. Our car broke down, and my mom was looking for a way to entertain us while my Dad tried to fix the clutch. I kept telling my little sister to stay close because she might be towed away by the river.”
“I would have loved to see that,” Scott chuckled as he stood beside her. “Wee Ava telling everyone off in her pants and pigtails.”
“If you must know,” Ava pointed out, looking up at him and smiling slyly. “I was all about the boy cut at seven years old.”
“See, now I need a picture of that.”
“I remember looking at my Dad and thinking that he was Superman when the car started working again,” Ava said, her voice turning wistful as she looked at the view. “He was the reason I wanted to become a lawyer, why I made a whole Plan for my life. I just wanted to be like him. He taught me everything I know. How to be independent, how to be smart. He taught me about music, and he introduced me to Queen.”
“I know how much you love it,” Scott commented, as their waitress and Wayan pored over the menu, pointing at several things and nodding at each other. “He sounds like a cool guy.”
“He really was,” Ava said, looking down at her hands. “He . . . uhm . . . died before I graduated college. Cancer. He was really supportive of my Plan. He’s probably shaking his head at me right now for being so off-tangent.”
Scott looked over at Ava’s hunched shoulders, at the way her frame just drooped. Something in him had turned cold at Ava’s revelation, but he knew that all he wanted was to wipe the frown off her face. He placed an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean her head against his chest as they both watched the view. This kind of intimacy felt different from last night. It had none of the desperation and heat from when they first met. This was just a friend, comforting another friend. He squeezed her arm. She sighed and relaxed against his arm.
It was a big thing for Ava to talk about her Dad out loud. When she was growing up, her father had been her biggest fan and the one standard she could never live up to. When he died, she just soldiered on because she had to—her family needed her to be the strong one. But now that she was here with Scott, she could say what she thought, feel what she wanted to feel.
She was still hung up on losing her Dad.
As they were served plates of warm, deep fried, crispy-on-the-outside-duck (bebek, as Wayan had called it), noodles of mi goreng, and one can of Bintang each, Ava found herself telling Scott everything. She told him about her mother, her sister Bee, how she and Matteo fell in love and broke up, how much she loved her job at Escudero, Angeles and Whatever. She talked about being unable to get into UP, how it crushed her. She even told him how he had helped her last night, how sleeping with him released all of these things from within her and made her feel lighter. Scott was genuinely interested in listening to her, asking questions when he felt relevant, scoffing when she told him how Matteo had actually said she was too good for him.
“Your ex-boyfriend is an eejit,” he concluded, swallowing the Bintang like he was drinking water. “So get a new guy. Go to your Dad’s school and kick arse. That’s a plan.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Ava sighed, tucking her legs underneath her as she finished her food. Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses drifted through the restaurant speakers. “I’m not sure if I still want all of that.”
“Of course you do,” Scott told her, leaving no room for argument. “You just forgot why,” he pointed out, leaning back against his seat with one long leg crossed over the other. She watched the rise and fall of his chest over his faded orange shirt, focused on it like it helped her calm down.
“I thought you would tell me to just forget about my Plan,” Ava commented.
“Nah, I know I won’t be able to talk you out of anything,” Scott laughed, putting down his beer. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Having a plan is great, but you have to leave a bit of wiggle room for the unknown,” he said matter-of-factly, he slapped his hands against his thighs before standing up and offering Ava a hand.
“Now dance with me and show me just how much wiggle room you’ve got in you, eh?” he asked, pulling her hand and bringing Ava’s body flush against his. The music changed to 500 Miles, and they both started laughing. Scott even started to sing. Scott placed his hands on the curve of her back as they swayed to the song, and at the rain smattering on the tiled roof of the restaurant. Scott was so tall he was practically cradling Ava, while she nestled her hands on his chest. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. It was such an intimate gesture, one that she hadn’t expected.
She felt warmth flutter in her chest. When they first slept together, she thought it had been a little too easy, the way she surrendered herself to Scott and let him take over. It had scared her at first, especially when she saw him again that morning. But now, she realized that she needed him. When she was with Scott, she forgot about the things she was running away from. When she was with him, she remembered how to laugh, how to have fun. But how could she have forgotten those things?
“Come to Hong Kong with me,” he said suddenly, so excited at the prospect that he missed the beat of the song. “We can go to Disneyland and have the time of our lives. Then you can show me a little more of that wiggle of yours.”
“Smooth,” Ava laughed, and the feeling settled inside her, lifting the haze of sadness that followed her into Bali. “Do you get all the girls this way?”
“Only the gorgeous ones,” Scott joked, stopping their dance to look into her deep, brown eyes. There was pain there, but he knew that Ava had a lot of joy and love to give, even if she couldn’t really see it for herself. He needed that. She had no idea how much he needed that.
She was the one who made the first move, standing on the tips of her toes to take Scott’s lips into hers, reaching up to the nape of his neck to gently pull him down to her height, her other hand on his chest. Scott inhaled a breath when she stopped, his eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what she’d done.
“I’m sorry,” she said to him. “I don’t usually . . . did you not—”
“I was actually wondering why we’d stopped,” he murmured, tracing her jawline with a finger. He cupped her small face in his hands, lifting her chin as he kissed her again. He kissed her softly and tenderly. He didn’t pull her toward him or press too hard. Scott wanted her to remember how important these little kisses were, how they made him feel excited, happy, and thrilled. He couldn’t help but hope that she felt the same way too.
“Ava,” he said, placing his forehead against hers. “I promise
you. One day you’ll forget ever feeling this shitty. You will be so adored, and so happy, that when you think about Bali, the only thing you will remember is the Bintang and the bebek.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Super Cool Party, People
THE REST OF the afternoon flew by for Ava, in a lovely haze induced by Bintang and bebek. Wayan took them to Taman Ayun Temple after lunch, and all his talk about the temple’s history was lost on her. She was so out of sync with her surroundings that she could barely repeat the temple’s name.
“What did Wayan say about this place again?” Ava asked Scott as they walked in together, their hands clasped and swinging like they were kids. Wayan had found a buddy of his near the bathrooms, so Ava and Scott were left to their own devices to explore the outer courtyard of the temple.
“He said it’s a lovely three bedroom, two-and-a-half bath maisonette in the heart of London,” Scott joked as they walked past a fountain in the middle of the lawn. “If you don’t mind the statues moving around in the night, it’s a real bargain, don’t you think?”
“You’re the worst,” Ava laughed, holding up her camera to take a photo of the area. She’d left the rest of her backpack in the car. She didn’t need all of that baggage during the tour.
Scott had insisted on holding her hand the whole time as they wandered the sprawling, manicured, green grounds of the temple. They pointed at menacing statues, comparing this with Puseh Desa Batuan. Scott made jokes about taking a quick swim in the moat bare-arsed while the temple statues watch him in disapproval.
On Wayan’s urging, they joined the locals in placing pale yellow, white, and deep magenta plumerias on the deities’ ears. Ava told Scott that she loved plumerias as a child. She placed plumerias behind Scott’s ears while he expertly braided a few of the blooms into her hair.
“Had a lot of practice in braiding?” Ava teased him, touching the back of her head. To be fair, Scott was scarily good at it, her hair was back in intricate fishtail braids with about twenty different plumerias wedged in.
“What else is a boy supposed to do,” he simply answered, winking at her. He rested his chin on her head, taking a whiff of the flowers. “These smell really nice.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Ava smiled. They sat on a set of mossy, concrete steps that gave them a good view of the grounds, huddled together under a big blue umbrella from the hotel as it started to rain, despite the sun being out. Ava commented that it might mean that a tikbalang was getting married, telling him about the stories of the creatures her mother used to scare her with as a child—nuno sa punso, manananggal, dwende. While they waited for Wayan, Scott talked a bit about Hong Kong, and weird things he’d heard in the course of his job, whatever it was.
“He’s never met me or seen me, but he gives me the reign on everything,” Scott said. “All he wanted to know was my birthdate, said our signs matched up, and then we were business partners. That city drives me bonkers, and a lot of the time I hate absolutely everything about it—the rain, the heat, other people . . . but it’s where I work, where I am.”
“I can’t imagine you with a job,” Ava mused, resting her chin on her hand and looking up at him. “You look like the kind of guy that lives off a trust fund.”
Scott laughed at the suggestion, shaking his head.
“Judging me, are you?” he asked playfully. He scooted closer to Ava, placing an arm around her shoulders as the April showers continued. She waited for him to defend himself, to tell her that he was actually a corporate slave who lived in his office until Charlie forced him to come to Bali. Or that he was actually a famous actor from Scotland who was running away from a bad breakup. But Scott simply shrugged and remained evasive as ever.
“You know, you talk a lot, but you never really say anything,” Ava said suddenly, looking out on the grounds. They never mentioned it again, but she felt him pulling away, like he was never there in the first place.
Wayan took them to the back of the temple, where they came face to face with the tall, multi-tiered pagodas that Taman Ayun was famous for. The pagodas were deep brown, almost black with age, standing tall over pale rock. It was a great contrast to the red brick and stone of the outer courtyard and the more modern temples.
“This is the house of the gods,” Wayan informed them. He was walking along an elevated platform like a little boy from the local neighborhood. “Do you see the small beds inside? That is for the gods to sleep in. We can pray to them here, and if you count the levels of the pagoda, they are always in odd numbers. Even the gods are not perfect.”
Then Wayan walked ahead, showing Ava good spots to take a photo of the temples. While she was taking photos and listening to Wayan’s lecture on the gods of Hinduism, Scott approached the low wall, sighing deeply. Then he closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths and listening. Anyone who saw him would have thought he was praying.
“Sir Scott, please come now. We have to go back to the hotel before Miss Gabbie will kill me!” Wayan called, waving his hands at Scott just in case he would miss them. His head snapped up, blinking as he adjusted to the light. Ava turned her head. She hadn’t realized that Scott had fallen behind. His brows were furrowed, his lips drawn into a thin line. He seemed almost worried.
But the look vanished as soon as he smoothed his hand around hers. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” He smiled brightly at Ava, and she couldn’t help but wonder why the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
They’re just about to walk back to the car when Scott’s phone rang again. He brought it out of his pocket, his brows furrowing when he saw the number. Then he sighed and simply smashed his finger into the power button to turn it off.
They were back at the hotel in no time, and after saying goodbye to Wayan and agreeing to meet him early the next day, Scott and Ava found themselves standing in the driveway and really looking at each other. She couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. Standing there with Scott felt right, different from the way she felt when she was with Matteo. In a matter of hours, he became her anchor, keeping her steady, keeping her whole. He let her be herself, and forced his way past her anal retentive barriers. Nobody had ever really done that, not for her.
“You still have kalachuchi flowers behind your ears,” she informed him, reaching up to take the plumerias from his ears, but Scott stopped her hand.
“Leave ‘em,” he said, lacing his fingers through the hand he’d stopped. “They smell nice. You should wear your hair like that for the party.”
“Maybe,” Ava shrugged noncommittally. The distance she began to feel at Taman Ayun threatened to come back, and she didn’t want it to. When did she become so dependent on him? He had been slowly pulling away from her, staying quiet in the car, ignoring Ava when she purposefully tried to annoy him by being her rigid, tight-ass self—but even her insistence on looking for a bathroom that wasn’t just a hole in the ground didn’t illicit a reaction from him.
Ava wasn’t going to let him go so easily. Her heart was in command now, and this time she was going to fight for him. She tugged on Scott’s hand and tiptoed up to him, pulling at the nape of his neck and she gave him a deep kiss. Scott actually grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he licked the bottom of his slightly swollen lip. He was back again, and her heart thumped erratically in her chest with the way he looked at her.
“Look at you,” he said, running a hand up and down the sides of her arm. “Who knew you had a bit of Scottish in you, eh?”
“What can I say,” Ava sighed. “You bring it out in me.”
Scott’s low laugh was halted by Ava’s lips touching his again. His hands slid across her waist and back. His deft fingers traced the line of Ava’s spine and made her shiver.
“Shall we take this inside, Mister McLeod?”
“Wild monkeys couldn’t stop me.”
The whole place was in chaos, staff members running around holding buckets of flowers and piles of cloth for the celebration. They still managed to
smile and greet the couple as they passed, Scott making sure he was standing behind Ava as she gave them a breezy smile and a wave. It was only five, and Ava was determined to make the most of their time before the celebration started.
“Have I told you that you laugh really, really loud?” Scott asked, whispering into the shell of her ear as she struggled with the keys to the double doors. She laughed as he kissed the side of her neck, nibbling at her earlobe, stumbling forward as she managed to open the doors to her room. “It gets me every time.”
“Heartless bitches like me never laugh,” she informed him, walking backwards as Scott caught her in his arms, planting deep, hungry kisses on her lips, her jaw, her neck, her throat. His laugh rumbled against her skin as he pressed his face to her neck, making her sigh.
“Darlin’, you are anything but heartless,” he managed to say, preoccupied with a particular spot on her neck.
This was fun. This was actually enjoyable and exciting. Ava had forgotten what that felt like. And it wasn’t just the sex, it was everything—Scott, Bali, exploring, eating, everything. Her black-and-white life had exploded in full technicolor all because of this guy.
She pulled his shirt up and Scott threw it aside, and he dove for her top as well, revelling in the feel of her bare skin under his hands. She wanted to splay her hands all over his chest, to feel his taut muscles against hers. He twisted her hips and Ava turned, her back faced him and traced the straps of her bra with his fingers before snapping her bra off in one smooth motion. He tossed the garment off to the side.
“I’m not even going to ask how you can do that so fast,” Ava commented, dropping her head backwards as Scott murmured into the side of her neck with words only he could hear. She fit perfectly against him, but he would never admit that.
Midnights in Bali Page 6