Chapter 4: Our Thing: Chapter 4

‘I love this song,’ I announce. ‘Turn it up, pretty please.’

Using the button on his steering wheel, Braidy turns the volume up as he glances at me in the rear-view mirror.

Luke listens intently from the seat beside mine. ‘What’s the song?’

‘Riptide. It’s my jam.’ I bop my head and begin to sing, peering out the window as we roll down Old Coast Road towards the marina.

Toni sings over the top of the music. He twists to grin at me from the front seat while making a jerking-off motion with his hand. ‘Your left-hand, man.’

I just laugh and continue to sing, lost in my own world of Vance Joy and ocean views.

When we get to the marina, we wander the docks for a while, pointing out the boats we like and enjoying the final rays of the sun.

‘Where is our boat today, Toni?’ I ask, smiling widely.

He chuckles. ‘Fucking Manu,’ he says, and we hip and shoulder each other lightly.

An amused look passes between Luke and Braidy.

‘Who is Manu?’ Braidy asks.

‘When Toni and I were younger, we used to pretend that our boat was being cleaned by our boat chauffer, Manu. I don’t even know if there is such a thing as a boat chauffeur, but that was our lie for why we didn’t have a boat docked here.’

‘You guys have known each other for a while then?’ Luke asks.

Toni laughs. ‘She’s like an addiction.’

As we pass by the bar, Gypsy’s, Toni persuades us to go inside. It can be pretty rough in here at times, but then again, we are with two of the District’s finest. And the food is always good; huge selection too.

When our meals arrive, Luke stares at my plate. ‘Wow, I’ve never seen a girl order that much food.’

Toni tsks. ‘My friend, you never mention what a girl orders. How many dates have you been on?’

My eyes narrow at Toni and they inaudibly scream, ‘This is not a date!’

Grinning at Luke, I give him my attention. ‘Eating is like my third favourite pastime.’ I pause, thinking on it. ‘Fourth favourite. Dancing. Fireworks. Arcade games. Eating.’

‘Do you want to hear mine?’ Luke asks, focusing his attention on me as Braidy whispers something in Toni’s ear and they both chuckle. We twist even further to face each other. Our knees touch, but I don’t mind.

I take a sip of red wine and focus on Luke’s crooked canine. ‘Yeah. Shoot.’

‘Movies, cricket, playing guitar, and sleeping. Although, I’d say sleeping can creep its way up to number one under certain circumstances.’ Luke grins at me. ‘And I think it’s great you eat. I love food.’

Using my fork to point at his plate, I ask, ‘Then why did you order a tuna salad?’

He glances at Braidy and then back at me, searching for words. ‘Trying to be healthy?’

‘You don’t sound sure.’ I giggle.

Toni plays footsies with me under the table. ‘You don’t make friends with healthy.’

I laugh and dunk my potato in sour cream. ‘Toni’s allergic to healthy.’

‘Isn’t it, you don’t make friends with salad?’ Luke points out.

‘Is it?’ Toni curls his lips in contemplation. ‘All these years. Hmm.’

I begin to really enjoy the wine and find myself signalling the waitress for another. . . And another. Luke’s crooked canine gets cuter and cuter with every sip. He pushes his blond hair back from his face and finishes his fifth pint before asking for the check.

He goes to pay, but I object. ‘No. I can pay for myself.’

There is this grin playing on his lips now. ‘Seriously, Cassidy. Let me pay for you.’

When he says my name, I think of Max, just for a second. Because Max never says my name. He calls me ‘little one’. And I’m still not sure if that’s a term of endearment or if he’s being patronising, but I like it anyway.

I shake my head. ‘No. I don’t feel comfortable with that.’

His eyes search my face, measuring me up. Perhaps wondering if I’m being serious or testing him, which is so not in my nature to do. ‘I’m serious,’ I press. ‘I work really hard and have my own money.’

‘Hmm.’ He nods in agreement. ‘How about we rock paper scissors for it? I win, I pay. You win, you can pay for yourself.’

I smile. ‘I love that idea.’

We both put our fists in and count, ‘One. Two. Three!’

My fist flattens into paper and he throws two fingers out, making a fork.

We are both smiling at each other now. He’s nice.

‘Okay. You win,’ I say.

We walk hand-in-hand towards the carnival rides, but it’s very G-rated between us – coy and flirty, but suitable for all ages. Toni and Braidy disappear into the crowd, leaving Luke and I to continue the night on our own.

He seems to enjoy my silly side and even joins in. We sit on the tea pots and spin, shoot ducks and miss, throw coins and sink them, and now I’m genuinely having a really great time.

We leave the rides and games and head up the hill where we plonk ourselves down on the grass steps that overlook the water. Conversation with Luke has become completely natural.

‘So you’re a ballerina.’ He tugs on his earlobe and cocks his head. ‘I’ve never been to see the ballet before.’

I cross my ankles in front of me. ‘You should.’

He sighs. ‘I’m not sure I’m cultured enough.’

‘What?’ I say, genuinely surprised. ‘You don’t have to be cultured to watch ballet.’

‘Okay. Show me something? Let’s see if I like it.’

I giggle nervously. ‘What?’

‘Yeah. Seriously. Show me a move or whatever.’

‘Like, now?’ I look around the hill. It’s pretty dark, but people are scattered around us for fifty metres or so. I’m not hesitant to dance in public, but in order to do so, I’m going to need to adjust my skirt . . . ‘Here?’

‘Why not?’

‘Okay.’ I kick my heels off and stand on the grass in front of him. I hike my denim skirt up until it’s around my waist, putting my white knickers on show for far too many people. And what the hell am I doing, flashing half of the marina? It doesn’t matter, I decide. It’s dark. Tilting my chin up, I raise my arms, forming a loose circle above my head. I relax my neck and smile at him. A little heat hits my cheeks when I see his eyes are trained on me. Slowly, I lift my working leg up, toes pointed, until my calf is beside my face, my legs forming a perfect line. I hold the développé position with ease and glance back at Luke, who is now squirming in place. I lower my leg until my toes meet my knee. Then I kick with that leg. Whipping around, I hold my head stationary and complete three fouettés – which after a bottle of wine is impressive – before finishing gracefully in first position.

‘Are you cultured enough to watch that for a few hours?’ I grin at him.

There’s heat behind his eyes now that has my stomach flipping. Or maybe that’s the wine? He stands, takes my hand in his, and pulls me towards the old waterpark.

We duck under a fence and walk through the ruins of the park. Stopping suddenly, he lifts me onto the lip of an abandoned slide. The cold plastic on my thighs sends a shiver down my spine. He stands in front of me and as he presses his mouth to mine, he moves his hips between my knees. I close my eyes and welcome him, feeling a fuzzy sensation rush through me and a complete lack of concern because Luke is a cop. This feels nice too. Luke feels safe. His hands caress from my knees to the plump parts of my thighs. There he grips me, tilting me up and wrapping my legs around him. I hum and his tongue finds mine. His jeans rub against my knickers, and a moan escapes me with every movement.

And it’s inadvertent and unwelcome, but now I’m thinking about Max.

I close my eyes and imagine for a second that Max is the one touching me. Guilt makes me squirm and I force my eyes open, trying to acknowledge Luke. For Luke. His kiss is chaste. I get the feeling Max’s kisses wouldn’t be. I imagine they’d consume me.

Stop thinking about Max!

Forcing Luke to the front and centre of my mind, I lift my hands up and feed my fingers through his thick, blond hair. He touches me with intimacy and longing, making this all feel okay. I’m sure he won’t take things too far. But then his hands start pawing at my thighs and his breathing becomes laboured and mixed with groans.

His hands are up my skirt now, skating around the seam of my knickers. ‘Cassidy, you’re so hot here.’

Out of nowhere, Luke is pulled back from me, leaving me open-mouthed and flushed. Luke growls, ‘What the fuck?’ just as Max swings his fist into Luke’s jaw.

Max?

What. The. Frick.

I wince when blood sprays from Luke’s face. He doubles over, cupping his chin and groaning gutturally. It looks like he’s about to fight back, but there is no opportunity for him to retaliate; Max is already dragging him towards the fence-line. His superior height and build makes Luke look like a petulant child in trouble with daddy.

‘Oh my God! Stop it!’ I yell out.

Max throws him through the gap before turning to glare at me. I’m speechless.

Luke attempts to come back, but stops when Max stares him down. ‘If you climb back through that fence, your knees won’t work for a month.’ Luke looks at me, and Max takes a step towards him. ‘A year,’ he warns.

I nod at Luke, but it seems unnecessary because he’s already decided he’s not going to take Max on tonight. Turning, he disappears into the dark.

‘What the hell, Max?’ I crane my neck to glare at him as he dissects every inch of me. His jaw clenches as his eyes scroll down my body, skirt around my waist, and linger at my spread thighs. I slam my knees together, wipe my mouth, and pull my clothes straight.

Max nails me to the spot with his glare. ‘I just overheard the strangest thing. Apparently Cassidy Slater is finally putting out tonight.’

I cringe at his words. ‘Max, what have you done?’

A vein in his neck bulges. ‘I just saved him a lot of pain, little one. If his hands had gotten any further, I would have had to break them.’

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ I shuffle on the slide and try to squeeze past him, but it’s an attempt to no avail. ‘Get out of my way, Max.’

He stands staunchly. ‘I saw your peep show, little one. You were seconds away from crawling onto his lap. No wonder he took you back here.’

My breathing becomes shallow. ‘You were watching me?’

‘Half the fucking District was watching you spread your legs for him.’

‘I was dancing. Not spreading my legs for him! Why are you so mad at me?’

He glare down at me over a tight jaw. ‘Do you know how easy it would have been for him to rape you back here?’

‘He wasn’t going to do anything to me, Max. He’s a cop.’

‘Then tell me this’ – he leans towards me – ‘if he wasn’t going to do anything, why did he take you back here? Why didn’t he just kiss you on the hill?’

Swallowing hard, I reach for an answer to that question, but come back empty. ‘I’m safe,’ I whisper. ‘I’m here with Toni.’

‘Yeah?’ He looks around the dark, derelict water slides. ‘Where. The fuck. Is Toni?’

I glance at the ground between his feet. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Are you fucking stupid?’ he scolds. ‘Are you in heat or something?’

I feel both the sting of his words and my welling tears. As he glares down at me as if I’m some naive idiot, too many feelings swarm around inside me – most of them completely contradictory. There is this skip in my heart that inadvertently relishes his attention, concern, and what looks and sounds a lot like protectiveness. But the weight in my belly churns because I was alone in the dark with a stranger. That’s true. I still don’t believe Luke would have done anything, but I don’t know for sure, do I?

‘You’re being a jerk again,’ I say.

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘I was just kissing him.’

His body makes a shadow over mine. ‘I. Don’t. Like it,’ he states, and I flinch even though his words had been spoken softly. ‘Does Flick know her little sister strips off for guys and disappears into dark corners with them?’

I stare up at him. ‘Flick would encourage me to express myself. I don’t do it enough.’

‘Express yourself?’ He near snaps the words. ‘Express yourself all over his fingers.’

‘Max. Stop it.’

‘Is this what you want? To give up your virginity to a stranger outside a waterpark?’

My eyes widen. ‘How did you know I was a-‘

‘It hurts.’ The words come out through a growl. ‘The first time can hurt. It isn’t meant to be done like thi-‘

Anger bites at the heels of humiliation. ‘Excuse me! I don’t want to discuss my virginity with you, Max Butcher. It’s none of your business. And as if you care about my virginity. As if you care about any girl’s virginity. It’s not a prize, right?’

He fixes his eyes shut, making no noise or movement for a few seconds. His eyes open and find mine again. ‘Who said it wasn’t a prize?’

‘I don’t know. Everyone in my life? It’s the norm. Toni. My brother, who’s had more girls than I can count. Flick. Guys like you who treat sex like it’s as casual as eating breakfast. Guys who think having a girlfriend is the worst thing in life? Worse than polio!’

‘That’s what this is about? You’re that desperate to get fucked? Fine! Get in my car right now. I’ll fuck you.’ His tone is harsh and authoritarian, making me recoil. Heat prickles the backs of my eyes. He growls when I don’t instantly move. ‘Okay then!’ He unzips his jeans, pins my legs apart, and grasps my upper arms, handling me roughly as he forces me to stare at him. ‘Want me to fuck you right here on this slide?’

I tug my arm from him and cover my face with it, trying desperately to smother the sobs building in my throat. I’ve lost my fight against him. Lost my resolve. ‘Shut up!’ In an instant the tears start to flow and I hold myself tight.

Through my pooling eyes, I see something like regret flash across his face, but it’s gone so quickly I could have imagined it. He fastens his jeans, pulls me up by the elbow and drags me over to his car.

His black four-wheel drive is parked not far from the grass hill Luke and I had been sitting on less than half an hour ago. He lifts me into the passenger seat and leans across me to buckle my belt, a semblance of urgency to his movements. I’m rendered speechless, wanting to scold him, reason with him, and ask him to forgive me, all at the same time.

What?

Forgive me for what? Kissing a boy? Getting myself into a position in which he felt I needed rescuing? The door slams shut. I stare at my bare feet as he climbs in behind the wheel and sets off down the road at an aggressive pace. A heavy bass vibrates under me.

Frick, my heels.

‘My heels,’ I mutter.

He points to the backseat, and I twist to see my black Steve Madden stilettos laying there. I blink and turn back to watch the dark road as it rushes under us. From the corner of my eye, I can see Max scowling straight ahead. He thinks I’m some kind of naive idiot. It was nice to feel wanted. Sexy. That’s all. And this had all started because of him, because of my attraction to him. Next time I have a crush on a boy, I should just tape my mouth and vagina shut. Call it a day.

‘He’s a cop, Max,’ I say. He doesn’t respond, just stares unwaveringly at the road. ‘He wouldn’t have hurt me.’ His hands tighten around the steering wheel. ‘You could get into heaps of trouble for hitting a cop.’ He presses the volume button and turns the beat up until it drowns out my voice.

Giving up, my eyes move to the little tree hanging in the centre of the windscreen. The plastic packaging hangs half off, preserving the scent inside. His car feels new. Leather seats. Digital display. It smells new.

I’m in Max’s car.

Is he taking me to his house? I swallow hard at the thought of him pulling me into his room and teaching me a lesson about men. I squeeze my thighs together. As much as I want Max, I don’t want him in this headspace. He’s . . . intimidating.

‘I don’t want to do anything,’ I whisper, but he can’t hear me over the music. ‘I don’t want to do anything!’ I yell. Max’s hand is on the volume button in seconds, lowering the beat until I can hear my own breaths of courage.

‘Say that again,’ he says, his voice salacious as if he’s trying to get me to understand something.

I swallow past the tone and how it makes me feel. ‘I don’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to do anything with Luke either. Things had just gotten out of control.’

The tension in his face softens. ‘We’re not going to, little one. We’re just going to sleep.’

This time when he says ‘little one’, my heart races and an uncomfortable level of arousal spikes inside me.

I move my knee to the side and stare at his profile. His mouth is in a tight line. He grips the wheel firmly and his biceps bulge, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. He’s too hot. He should come with a warning label. ‘Are you taking me home?’

He offers me a quick glance. ‘I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I know you’re next to me.’ Every part of my body feels those words, including parts I didn’t know could respond to words alone. My heart is beating so fast it threatens to jump right out of my chest. That’s the single, most intimate thing any guy has ever said to me. And if it wasn’t obvious before, it is now. I’m brandishing that goofy grin because Max Butcher cares about me – even if only a little.

I should still be angry with him.

But I’m not.

I’m becoming one of those girls I have always pitied.

When he pulls onto my street and turns down my driveway, I feel disappointment curdle in my belly. Why are we at my house? Does this mean he doesn’t want to sleep next to me tonight? Was that just a fleeting moment of something growing between us? Now over? God, he’s giving me whiplash.

Without a word, he switches the headlights off as we approach the front porch, perhaps trying not to wake my family. He drives the car out the back and up onto the grass beside my studio.

My brows pinch tightly together. ‘I don’t understand.’

He switches the ignition off and looks at me sternly. ‘Go upstairs.’

‘But I thought-‘

‘Go upstairs,’ he orders. ‘Do you want me to meet you up there?’

My breath lodges in my throat, but I manage to whisper, ‘Yes.’

‘I need to hear you say it.’ He stares down at me, locking his eyes onto my mouth. ‘Say, Max I want you to sleep next to me tonight.’

‘Max, I want you to sleep next to me tonight.’ The words are uttered softly, because I’m completely breathless. His eyes are still focused on my lips, making my pulse drum in my skull.

‘Good.’ He nods towards the house. ‘Go upstairs. I’ll meet you up there.’

I climb out of the car and race towards the house. I can feel his eyes on me. Once I’m inside, I sneak up the stairs and into my room. Shutting my door softly behind me, I press my back to it and stand like a statue for a few moments, trying to catch my breath.

Max Butcher is going to sleep in my room tonight.

Oh my God!

Rushing into the ensuite, I quickly throw water on my face and brush my teeth like a machine. I run around my room, grabbing clothes, and then change into my pyjama shorts and tank top. My reflection catches my eye and I stare at myself briefly. My cheeks are flushed and my hair is messy around my shoulders.

A sudden knock at my window draws my attention, and oh my God, Max is at the window. He must have climbed up the lattice.

I stare at him for a moment, the magnitude of this moment settling inside me. First, I kiss Luke. Max acts like a damn caveman, and now he’s here. Should I be nervous? Not excited nervous, but fearful nervous?

He frowns at me through the glass. ‘Open up.’

Walking over to the window, I slide it open. As he pushes the screen in and climbs through with little exertion, I step back.

And now he’s standing in front of me, in my room and intimidating as hell. I crane my neck to watch him take in my most personal space. He looks out of place amongst the white furniture and overly feminine décor. This feels strangely intimate. I think he almost grins.

He peers down at me and lifts a hand to my face, brushing one of my blonde waves over my shoulder. My eyelids grow heavy as his warm knuckles stroke my cheek.

‘Go to sleep,’ he states, but it isn’t a suggestion.

I crawl into bed as he kicks off his shoes. Under the false sense of safety the sheets give me, I watch him pull his shirt off and unbutton his jeans before sliding them down his legs. I gasp. He is so fricking beautiful.

He leaves his clothes sprawled out across the carpet, and they improve the space – a lot. I like them there.

He walks towards me in white boxer shorts that leave very little to the imagination; the form of his penis beneath them is a large bulge that moves under its own weight. Muscles cut up his physique, creating definition on every inch of skin. The sight of him is uncomfortable. It’s hot tingles. An uneven heart rate. It’s breathlessness. I scoot over and he slides in beside me. As he lays on his back, frowning at the ceiling, I stare at his profile.

‘I thought you were going to take me to your house,’ I admit, resting my face on my hands and trying to pretend I’m unaffected by his presence.

You’re failing, Cassidy.

‘So did I.’ He pauses for a moment with his thoughts. ‘It’s not a good idea.’

‘I seem to hear that a lot from you.’

‘That’s because when it comes to you, it’s true.’

‘I don’t get it. You seem to like me.’ I search his face for emotion and feel a spike of panic when he doesn’t respond. The silence between us is crushing me. ‘Well, at least I think you do.’ He clenches his jaw. ‘What are you thinking about, Max?’ I press.

He exhales. ‘I’m thinking about that fucking sound.’ He looks at me and his eyes thin. ‘The one you made when he had his cock pressed between your thighs. And I’m think about how he’s probably thinking about it too while he rubs one out.’

I breathe out fast. ‘Max.’

‘Should’ve broken his hands.’