by M Field
Once I’d opened the door for Hazel to enter our place, Bea had a lightning quick bath and come rushing out to greet her friend. Look, I get it. Chicks need their friends to squeal all over, and Haze had been overseas for a few years and barely made visits back. They were naturally excited. But the jealous and overprotective arsehole in me wanted to beat my chest and roar, “MINE!”
Once Bea was climbing all over Haze in her excitement, I couldn’t be that dick. Instead, I’d stood to the side like a third wheel, unsure if I should stay or go. So, standing like an idiot, watching them, had seemed the only way.
“Alex, it’s so good to see you again.” Hazel had smiled. She had gotten taller since the last time that I’d seen her, and she was absolutely stunning. Robbie used to give her a fair bit of shit growing up, but I’m sure if he saw her now, he would change his mind. She was curvy and had long, deep-red hair that had thick curls, with green eyes and pale white skin. She used to be tanner, but I suppose that after living in the UK for a few years, it would be no surprise if she were Vitamin D deficient.
“You too, Haze. You back for good?”
“Yeah, I’m back, that’s for sure. Just need to find a place to live, a job, and I’m all set,” she’d chirped.
“Oh! You can stay here on our couch while you’re getting settled! I can help you look for apartments tomorrow if you like. I don’t have anything on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Meaning, please stay here, Alex tried to dry hump me and I need you to play buffer. While this lovely reunion was happening, I was standing there looking like a weirdo and willing my nether regions to calm down. I was standing too close to Bea, and even though she was giving me a semi-cold shoulder, she still gave me a … semi. I’d interrupted their planning with a quick, “I’ll catch you gals later, so you can catch up.”
Bea looked over to me with a smile, but her eyes seemed haunted. I neither liked nor understood that look. She was probably relieved that Haze interrupted us. Fuck.
I’d isolated myself and stayed in my room, messing around on my phone and computer while I heard their giggles and idle chitchat. They had a lot to catch up on but I couldn’t help but mope. Bringing up my contacts, I sent Robbie at text,
Me: You around, mate?
R: Yeah, what’s up?
Me: Hazel’s back in town. Surrounded by giggling girls.
R: Is that so? Did Trice tell you I was coming back this week?
Me: No mate, she forgot to mention. That’s awesome. Looking forward
R: Me too. Gotta lot of shit to sort out so expect me Fri afternoon before Trin’s party.
Oh, hell. I’d forgotten about that. No idea what you wore to a hero and villains party. Why she even wanted us to dress up, I had no idea.
Me: Sweet. I’ll pick up the Batman costume up for you with extra small cod piece. Sound good?
R: Fuck off. I’m not wearing tights.
Me: So just the extra small cod?
We’d continued texting for a while and it helped to keep my mind off the next room.
As the days drag on, I pour myself into work, taking bookings and running clinics well into the early evening. It seemed early on that Bea was avoiding me, so I tried to give her some space so she could relax again. With us, it was one step forward, and a catapult back. Bea had pushed me firmly into the friend-zone.
In the mornings, while getting ready for work, she would already be up and out the door helping out Hazel. Before long, Friday was here, and I was eager to have a few drinks at Trin’s and hopefully talk to Bea. I was tired of waiting for the right moment to talk to Bea. Tough shit if she wanted to avoid me. Even if she’d never loved me, I wanted her to know that to me, she was my everything.
Friday night came and Robbie arrived, shacking up in the spare room. I can hear music and giggling from Bea’s room, and it makes my gut ache. Seems that everything she did this week made the distance seem heavier. From her morning greetings to barely looking at me in the eye, I felt like I was twenty again, with her shattered heart in my palm. This time, the roles were reversed. It was now my heart that was staring back at me in fragments.
The attraction simmers between us, and as much as she tries to keep me at bay, I know that soon that tension is going to explode and crash her into to me. I stand in the lounge room, adjusting the black vest I am wearing, when Robbie comes strolling out in a suit with his hair slicked to the side.
“Going to a wedding?” I query, smiling as he tugs on his collar.
“Dude, for short notice this was all I had in my boxed stuff. It’s Bond … James Bond. What the hell are you?”
He reaches out with his hand to shake mine. I fist pump him and motion to my outfit. “I’m G.I. Joe, you dick. Everyone knows the ladies like a guy in uniform.”
I have on my army boots and cargo army pants with a tight, black muscle shirt under a padded vest. The padded vest I borrowed from a friend, and I wrapped a toy weapon belt around it as well, and my hips have a fake gun on either side. It is simple, but that’s not why I’m wearing it; it is because the top is fitted and I look good, and I want a reaction. Midweek, I had strolled out of the bathroom in just a towel and Bea had walked past and I’m not gonna lie, she stared at my chest. Her eyes were heated until she’d looked up at me and I winked. Since then, I’ve made a point of getting changed in my bedroom after I have had a shower. Two can play at this game.
Robbie pokes at my toy guns and goes to the kitchen to grab a plastic martini glass. He comes back victorious and stands there chatting about an idea for a business he wants to open up. He is just about to tell me what it is exactly when Bea’s door opens and my mouth hits the floor. Yep. I have lost this round.
Hazel has her long red hair in large curls, and dark smoky make-up with a flaming green eye mask and glossy lips. She wears a skin-tight, or more like painted on green corset, that has a plastic vine draped over her left shoulder and down to her waist. Beneath the corset is a jagged edged, very short green skirt. On her arms, she wears fingerless, elbow-length green transparent gloves and has painted her long nails a deep red. Her long legs are encased in a pair of fishnets with knee-high black leather boots. Poison Ivy is definitely an eye-opener. It isn’t her, though, that makes me lose my mind. Bea follows soon after, dressed as every teenage boy’s wet dream. Wonder Woman.
Her dark hair is also in large, long curls, with a golden headband, and her lips painted in a blood red. She wears a bright red corset that dips into her cleavage, which is outlined by the golden WW. A red cape is tied around her neck, while her hips are wrapped in a very short, bright blue and white starred jagged skirt. To this point, my mind stops functioning, but the red thigh-high suspender stockings with visible garter clips, and knee-high red boots have me panting like a Rottweiler in heat. Fuck me. Both Robbie and I stand there in silence until we realise we are both staring at them in silence.
“Hi,” Robbie croaks and then coughs to clear his voice.
“You gals look … nice,” I say, as I can’t help it. It is a gross understatement. Both these girls have rendered us speechless. Robbie moves closer to Hazel while I step closer to Bea, igniting my need to reach out and touch her. A bit creepy, but I am okay with that. She tilts her head and looks at me.
“Heard you found an apartment,” Robbie’s voice croaks and he clears his throat. Hazel
chuckles then nods. I step closer to Bea.
“In the Army? Any reason?” Bea’s eyebrows furrow as she studies my costume.
“No, G.I .Joe actually.”
Her eyes linger briefly on my arms. Yep. Back in the game. Even though my chest is covered in a vest, my bulky frame still looks domineering; you can still see that my body is real.
“I would have thought you would have chosen the Hulk, seeing as you both have such similarities,” she jokes.
“Only in the bedroom,” I fire back. Her face heats at my suggestive comeback. No running from me tonight, WW. You and I are going to fly.
We take a crowded
taxi to Trinity’s with a boot full of beer. I am looking forward to blowing off some steam and am hoping that sometime throughout the night I can talk to Bea. If she won’t talk to me at the party, then afterwards, when we get home, I am going to pin her down, (if only physically), and get to the bottom of the freeze out.
After a short cab ride, we are at the warehouse that Trinity has bought to showcase her designs, as well as live in, in North Melbourne. It has a red brick façade on the outside, which gives it an industrial feel from the 50s, but once you step inside, it is completely modern. It has large windows with white frames and some thick grey pull-across curtains, and the front garage door has been replaced with a double white-brimmed glass door. Inside, the walls are white and with several long hanging chandeliers while the floors are polished oak. It looks really impressive and it feels too posh of a place to be standing here with a slab of beer on my shoulder.
Around the edges of the room, small stages have various mannequins dressed as heroes; Superman, Captain America, Wolverine, and the bride from Kill Bill (complete with a large plastic samurai sword and fake blood splatter), and all these contrast with the stark cleanliness of the interior. Still, Trin makes it work.
In the centre, several couches have been pushed together with the occasional small table filled with chip and dip bowls and platters of deli meats and cheeses. At the back of the room, there are four large changing rooms, with thick grey curtains and posters of villains pinned to the front. A spiral staircase stands to the left of the change rooms that lead up to Trinity’s single open-plan living apartment. From where are we standing, we can see her lounge and kitchen and the edge of her bed. All in all, it is a pretty cool setup.
“Mate.” Robbie nudges me with his shoe. “Quit hogging the entryway and get in. This beer needs to be drunk.” He adjusts the slab that he has on his shoulder and I quickly move towards where a makeshift drink station has been created at the far end of the room. Right near the bride.
“This is so cool!” Hazel squeals,
“I saw this the other day when she had her designs out and it looked amazing. Now, it’s a chic party zone!”
“No one uses, ‘zone’, you noob,” Bea chastises her. “You sound so mid-90s.”
Hazel rolls her eyes and gives her the finger. Seems that the UK has brought out the fire in our resident redhead.
“Let’s get our mixers ready.” Bea laughs. She has a bottle of vodka in her hand and Hazel has the Midori. It looks like the girls are in for a big night. All the more reason for me to keep an eye on Bea, so as to not have the drunken conversation with her. Drunk would be fun, but I don’t want excuses of her “not remembering” it.
Once we have our drinks, Trinity comes over, screaming, and grabs the girls, jostling them against her.
“Oh, my God! Hazel! You’re really here! Yay! Holy hell, you women look hot!”
“You saw me the other day, you doofus. You look hot too, babe.” Haze laughs. Trinity has chosen to dress like the actual Trinity from The Matrix. Her black, skin-tight leather pantsuit looks like a second skin, and she has slicked her hair back with a slight part to the side. Around her hips, she has a weapons belt with two fake guns.
“Alex! You’ve got guns, too! But do you like my guns? They’ve got vodka in them! Winner!”
I laugh and see Theo standing nearby dressed as Blade, the vampire, in a long leather jacket and a tight black tank, pants, and sunglasses. He has filled out since high school. It does not go unnoticed, as several other female guests are giving him the once over. He looks mean, especially when he glances away from the group that he is talking to and back over to Trin. I never understood those two. Blind as bats.
After a couple of hours, the main lights are turned off, leaving a multi-coloured disco ball and a few overhead droplights, giving the room an almost nightclub look.
“The girls sure have made an effort tonight,” Robbie muses.
“Yeah,” I agree while sipping my beer. I have only taken my eyes off Bea for a moment to check out my surroundings, before honing back in on her. Robbie and I continue to drink while strolling around the room, checking out the surroundings and readjusting the mannequin arms. Superman is now scratching himself.
“So tell me, Al,” he begins while adjusting Wolverine’s hand to give the bird, “You and Bea getting along all right?”
I step near Captain America, holding my shoulders firm, while replying, “Fine. Been good having a housemate again.”
He tilts his head and gives me a knowing look. “Good. So I suppose now you guys can move on and get your act together?”
My hand is frozen mid-air from adjusting Captain’s shield. Bewildered, I look through the mannequin’s bent elbow at Robbie, seeing his smirk while asking, “What are you talking about?”
“Mate, you two are both ridiculous. It’s been years and you’re still tied up in knots about each other. If you’re looking for my blessing, you had it years ago. I know something happened between you—I’m not stupid—but if it’s all past, then either get your shit together or move on to someone else.”
My shoulders stiffen as I survey Robbie’s face,
“Oh, man … I don’t …” I hesitate.
He puts his hand up to silence me. “Don’t bullshit me. I know enough about not pursuing, and it’s bitten me in the arse.”
I step around the mannequin to stand in front of him.
“If you like her, go for it. Least that way, I don’t have to pretend anymore. Sick of you both dodging each other, when clearly there’s something there.” His words cloud my ears, but one tiny phrase stands out.
“Who is she, Robbie?”
Caught off-guard, he looks sheepish. Looking out across the room towards the girls, he mutters, “Someone I should’ve let catch me and instead, I let her go. Now, she has experienced the world and there’s probably no room in it for me. Tonight, she’s chosen to poison me with her costume—if you know who I mean.”
I mouth, Hazel? And he nods.
Staring along with him, I can’t help but ask, “Have you been banished to the friend corner?”
I smirk; keen to wipe the forlorn look on his face.
Robbie laughs. “Yep, been chained to the corner. But don’t you worry, going to break out of it soon. Just biding my time.” He waves his hand and continues, “Enough about me. I see how my sister looks at you, how you both deliberately dodged and weaved around each other’s lives and your puppy eyes deserve to have your man card revoked, so I’m telling you—get your shit together. Before you’re stuck where I am.”
I am just about to ask him more, when a group of guys step in front of us, blocking my gaze from Bea. Josh from her dance class and a few others I don’t recognise stand by, admiring our work on the mannequins.
“Nice effort.” Josh grins. “I think slipping some fake boobs into Wolverine, though, would work nicely.”
Laughing, I pretend to contemplate it, putting my finger to my chin. Josh is dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, complete with open white shirt. This guy is ripped. He is yet another reminder of when I have been a jerk to Bea. “Josh, about the other month, I’m sorry if I offended you.”
He waves my hand away and tuts. “Not at all, I’m just sorry I forgot the popcorn.”
I chuckle, relieved that he isn’t making me pay for it.
“Josh, in all the year’s I’ve known you, I thought you would’ve dressed as the real Phantom, tights and all,” Robbie jokes.
Josh flicks his hair out of his eyes and pins Robbie with a cheeky grin. “Oh, Robbie, I know I can rock a pair of tights, but if I had known how much you wanted to see me in them, I would have dropped over to see you sooner.”
We all burst out laughing while Robbie’s face heats. My gaze returns to the dance floor behind the couches where Bea has begun dancing with a small group of people, as well as Hazel. Theo and Trin stand nearby in what looks like a heated discussion.
“Well …” Josh gestures to the drinks that are b
ehind Bea. “All this sexual tension is making me thirsty. Catch up with you guys later.”
Winking at me, he saunters off with the others following.
“He’s such a flirt,” Robbie quips. “You know how many times I’ve heard, ‘are you sure you’re happy living the straight and narrow’? Almost every time I came home and visited Trice, he was there.” He rolls his eyes and continues to stare at the dance floor. While looking at the girls, he seems just as forlorn as I feel.
Robbie is right; it’s time to get my shit together. I nudge him and begin walking towards the girls. A small group has gathered on the dance floor and the girls in question are dancing together to the jazzy tones of Amy Winehouse. I look at Robbie, who is staring intently at Hazel. Interesting. I catch his eye and cock my eyebrow and he gives me the bird. Yep, he has it bad, all right. The sneaky shit.
The end of the song is nearing, so I throw my beer in the nearest bin and stand by the end of the couch, watching her move. The soft sub beats of Iio’s “Rapture” begins. The accelerated beats, combined with the sexy lead singer’s voice, lure me close to the dance floor. Bea has her back to me, dancing almost skin to skin with her friends and a whole lot of admirers staring at them.
I don’t understand the composition of music. All I do know is whether it is decent or not. Listening to the familiar lyrics, I know that if ever there was a song made for seduction, this is the one.
Once again, the siren has reawakened me with the alluring roll of her hips, leading me, the little lamb, into the lion’s den. Walking closer, the animalistic urge to lay my hands on her surges through me like molten lava. Bea and Hazel turn to each other and begin dancing closely, and twisting their bodies together to twirl down to the floor and up. This alone is beyond hot, but I want Bea to myself. I hear a distant frustrated, “Fuck,” from Robbie nearby. I don't turn my gaze away, but I continue until I am within touching distance. My heart rate increases as Bea’s hair swirls down her back. I want to grip it in my hand and pull her neck back and taste those cherry lips. The guys dancing near her sense my perusal and my glare, and begin giving me room to finally touch her. That's right, fellas, back off.