Chapter 11

I let Heather read the email while we sat at the airport, ready to catch the afternoon flight back to Melbourne. I'd read it five times by then, and it still made me flinch and turn shaky.

"What are you going to do?" she asked calmly.

I loved her for that composure. "I don't know. I... This week has been so emotional anyway, I feel like crying for twenty-four hours non-stop. I want to call him, but I don't know what I'd say."

"Give it the weekend. You're upset and so is he." She eyed me keenly. "Now you know everything, how he liked you from the start... Would you still go there?"

"I still can't believe it. I mean, Matt's the best looking, sweetest guy I've ever known. Since I met him, I've wanted to be with him, but I thought it was just a fat girl's dream, not something that could actually happen. Now, I'm worried I've screwed it all up..."

Awash in self-pity, I dropped my face into my hands, letting my hair fall forward around me like a shield.

Heather put her lithe arm around my wide shoulders. "Look, I'm not saying it can't still happen between you two, but tell me; has anything changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you came on this trip to discover yourself, to find some self-confidence, because you weren't ready to be loved yet. Have you?"

"Maybe... a little?" I considered it carefully, putting aside the bet drama. I'd held my own with models, and accepted the crush of a cute miner. Perhaps, I had changed enough. I could fly home to Sydney, appear on Matt's doorstep and throw myself into his arms.

But the vision turned to a slapstick skit as I saw myself toppling Matt to the floor and breaking his ribs with my superior weight. I guess I'm not ready yet... "But not enough," I conceded. "Anyway, you're right. We both need time to settle down. I'll call him Monday and hopefully we can just start working on being friends again."

"Sounds like a plan, lady."

Shouts echoed across the small terminal. "Heather! Evi!" Joel and Jake were running flat-out towards us, bright grins on both their faces.

"Sorry," explained Jake. "We had to wait for our lunch break to dash out!"

"That's fine," I said, hugging him fiercely. "That's so much for this week, mate."

"Thank you," he whispered in my ear. "For listening, for trying to help."

"Promise to call me if you're struggling?" I pulled back and stared intently into his sky-blue eyes. "I'll fly you out to Sydney, we'll have a fun weekend. The city girls would love you."

"I promise. I'll hold you to the offer, but I'll pay me own way." He hugged me again, and I felt hope unfurling between us that he would be on the road to mending soon.

Jake crossed to Heather to say bye, and Joel stepped in front of me.

With his beautiful dark face shining, he didn't speak. Instead, he simply pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

I hadn't expected it for a second, and I found myself too surprised to resist or even start up my internal critic, the annoying voice that listed everything I should be embarrassed or conscious of. I let my lips open as the younger man melded his mouth to mine, and a flurry of warmth kicked up inside me. My cheeks blazed and my nerves tingled, my whole body submitting to the ride.

He broke away, smiling so widely I wondered if his cheeks hurt. "Sorry, Evi, but if I'd let a beautiful woman like you fly away without at least one kiss, it would have been a dumb move on my part, hey?"

"Thank you, Joel." I wasn't even sure what I was saying thanks for. Perhaps it was for making me smile, or for making me feel pretty, or for the joy of an unexpected kiss. In any case, he hugged me one last time, and then he and Jake high-fived and sprinted off, whooping and hollering.

Beaming helplessly, I watched them go, then turned to Heather, who was staring at me open-mouthed. "What?" I said. "Are you ready? They're calling our flight."

Acting casually, I scooped up my laptop bag and headed for the gate. Heather followed me. "You little minx. For the record, I think you're already more confident. The girl I met two weeks ago wouldn't have pashed on with a hot tradie boy in public and walked away looking like the cat who ate the cream."

Tossing my hair back in a superior fashion, I arched an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, dear girl..."

***

Two crappy movies and a limp salad wrap later, we arrived at Tullamarine airport. Heather was skipping her way through the one-way security gates. "Andie's here somewhere to pick us up. Oh! I've missed my lover so much!"

I smiled at her enthusiasm, wistfully wishing that one day I'd love someone enough to skip in public. We cleared the door and peered through the crowd of baggage-toting travellers and sign-waving limo drivers.

A shout came from our right. "Heather!"

"Andie!" My friend rushed towards a lean brunette with a ponytail and they kissed passionately, which was completely expected for a couple who'd been separated for a week.

What I hadn't expected was the fact Andie was a woman. With sweeping eyelashes, a pert nose and a pair of fitted floral yoga pants, she was not exactly the partner I'd imagined waiting at home for the funky redhead.

Heather stood between us and said delightedly, "Andie, this is Evi. Evi, this is my better half, Andie!"

"Great to meet you!" Perhaps my voice was a little too bright; I was still trying to regroup, after all. I didn't care that Heather was gay, but I hadn't had a clue and I was feeling like a total goof. She knew so much about my life and I didn't know the most fundamental basics of hers.

Whatever it was that gave my awkwardness away, Andie saw it. "Nice to meet you too, Evi." She was cool, her eyes just slightly narrowed in disdain.

Way to make friends and influence people, Evi... "Thanks so much for having me this weekend, guys, I really appreciate it."

Heather took one of my arms and one of Andie's as we walked towards the carousels. "It's our pleasure! Right, baby?"

Andie tried to laugh, but it came out forced. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time Heather has brought her work home with her."

Ouch. I knew I'd have work hard with the frostier girl in the cute couple.

We jumped in the Mini, and I was allocated the miniscule backseat, feeling every ounce of my weight as I squished myself sideways. We drove to their house, a turn-of-the-century brick cottage just east of the city.

Heather proudly showed me to my adorable bedroom at the front of the house, which faced a giant camellia bush covered in white blooms. She made my bed quickly while I unzipped my suitcase full of dirty clothes.

"Chuck all your stuff in the laundry, I'll throw a load on tonight," said Heather, shaking on a pillowcase.

"You really don't have to. I can find a Laundromat tomorrow-"

"Evi, don't be nuts! You're our guest! Now, come on, dinner's waiting!"

Andie had prepared a genuinely amazing Lebanese meal. The table was covered in flat bread, home-made tabouli and koftas. Dukka for dipping and fried haloumi and chunky baba ghanoush – my mouth immediately filled with saliva, like a drooly dog.

"Andie, this is wonderful!" I said, genuinely grateful for her cooking. I reached for a lamb kofta and plopped a spoonful of yoghurt on my plate.

She accepted my compliment with a quick nod. "Thanks. Some of these are family recipes."

"Oh, you're Lebanese?"

"On my mother's side."

"Cool." Two minutes into dinner and the conversation was already stalling. "So, how did you guys meet?"

Heather started the story, her eyes gleaming. "I scored tickets to the Victorian Police Ball, and I saw this dark and sexy woman leaning against the bar, so effortlessly cool. I'd been single for ages, mostly because I have the worst gaydar in the world and I kept falling for straight girls. But when I saw this one, I said to myself, 'Be brave, Heather!'"

"She offered to buy me a drink," said Andie, her face split in a genuine smile as she remembered, "and I laughed because it was an open bar."

I laughed too, and the ice was cracked, just a little. It turned out that Andie worked for the police as a forensic case officer. Her job was documenting boxes of evidence from criminal cases, which could include items as weird as damaged dildos, or as tragic as a bloody baby toys. It was serious, important work, and it explained a little about her hardened attitude.

But where Heather was concerned, she was soft as kitten fur. Watching them caress and canoodle at the table, I felt something pulling deep inside me, a wretched tearing at my façade. I wanted what they had, wanted it so bad, it curdled the yoghurt in my mouth. I craved connection, that feeling of completeness. I'd had it with Matt and I'd blown it.

Perhaps I could recreate it, even for an artificial moment with someone else though...

"Hey, just so you guys know, I'm going to head out tomorrow night, so you don't have to factor me into any plans."

Heather tilted her chin low and flashed cheeky eyes at me. "Salsa."

"Salsa."

"Be brave, Evi."

***

It played out like a scene from a film; I walked into the club, nervous in my blood-red dress split to my thigh, and there he was. Anthony was waiting by the bar, his hair slicked back, as sleek as a seal's, and his eyes lit up as he saw me. Without a word, he whisked me off to the dance floor.

Inside the circle of his arms, I lost all sense of reality. My entire universe consisted of the Mediterranean man spinning me around, and I lost any vestiges of control in a world that already operated at a level I couldn't seem to influence.

The sweat rolled off both of us. I'd never kept up such a long period of unbroken eye contact with another person before; his deep eyes understood my soul, without needing superfluous words. Again and again, our legs intertwined and our groins ground together. My skin flamed under his touch and his mature bearing was a bigger turn on than any six-pack.

I'd left my hair flowing down around my shoulders, and it whipped deliciously back and forth as Anthony did the impossible with his dancing; he made me feel weightless. On my slender heels, I swayed and sashayed, until my knees threatened to give way.

As if he had psychic salsa abilities, Anthony led me from the dance floor and out the front of the club, where some empty tables were scattered by the street. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked, pulling out my chair.

The simple gesture was almost my undoing. Gentlemen still exist in this world. Considering my answer, I paused. I wanted to sweep away the nerves with the gentle caress of the liquor. But, remembering my on-air promise, I changed my mind. "An espresso?"

He smiled, and waved the waitress over. As he spoke to her, I let myself luxuriate in his accent, the lilting European tones making even a simple coffee order sound like sex on a stick.

When the girl had gone, Anthony turned to me, pinning me with his smoulder. "So... You came back. I hoped you would."

I was tempted to scoff at the idea, but chose instead to say, "I'm glad I did. You're an amazing dancer."

"Many things in my life have come and gone, but dance, ah... she remains faithful."

Trying to gauge how old he was proved difficult. He spoke like an ancient of days, but his eyes were youthful. His step was spry, but his brow held laugh lines. I put him in his late thirties.

"You haven't told me your name yet, my lovely friend."

"I'm Evianna."

"Ah... Beautiful. Just like you."

From his cultured mouth, I almost believed it. The waitress returned, bearing two steaming cups. I raised my cup to my lips and tried to fortify myself for the harder question to come. Be brave, Evi, be brave.

"So, Anthony... Would you like to leave together after this?"

His coffee was almost to his mouth, but it stopped and hovered as he processed what I'd asked. Then, he sipped it gently, analysing me. "You know, Evianna, if I was still nineteen, you wouldn't have had to ask. I would have already hurried you back to my place and divested you of your dress. We would have been drinking this espresso naked in my bed, with each other's sweat drying on our skin."

I shivered, suddenly frightened and fighting the warmth spreading below my panty line. "I feel a 'but' coming."

"But I am a man now, not a boy. I know that you cannot share bodies without sharing souls. I know that sometimes, sex isn't the solution. So, tell me, beautiful Evianna... Last week, you could barely meet my gaze, and you shunned the idea of even dancing with me. And tonight, you wish to leave with me. I wonder why."

It was a fair question. I tried to give an honest answer. "I had a pretty huge week. Life-changing, I guess. I lost someone I didn't realise I had because I'm so hung up on myself, and I can't seem to push through this mental block that I'm not attractive to anyone. Last week, you made me feel pretty. I wanted that feeling again. And more. If I can't have the person I've been obsessing over, maybe being with someone else will help."

He reached an elegant hand out and closed it over mine. "Evianna... You do not see yourself as beautiful?"

"No."

"If you take an image of yourself as ugly into the bedroom, you will never find beauty there either. Your body is a gift; you should share it wisely or it will be wasted."

I snorted, which didn't help my feelings of unattractiveness. "But I don't see my body as a gift, so it wouldn't be a waste."

"What you see it as is irrelevant." He leaned close and brushed my sweaty hair behind my ears and said again, "Your body is precious. If you choose to share it, it should be from a place of happiness, not desperation."

"Great. Now, I'm desperate!" Something akin to hysteria took me; the sexy European I'd pinned my hopes of sexual salvation on had shot me down. I should have just shagged Joel... Hiding my face in my hot hands, I said, "God. Forget I asked."

I heard him stand, laughing. His hands found mine and tugged me upwards until I was standing toe to toe with him, our noses almost touching. "Evianna, did you misunderstand? You aren't desperate. You are stunning. But you need to save yourself, because now is not the moment for you to give away your hope or your soul in pursuit of a temporary high."

He kissed me once, and he tasted of coffee and smoke, of tempting classy sex in the wee hours. Frustrated, I groaned into his mouth as I let my hands wind behind him, still hopeful he might change his mind.

But as he broke away and paid for our coffee and walked me to a cab, I realised the night wasn't going to end the way I'd planned. As I slid into the taxi, he crouched beside me. "Do not yet give up your hope, Evianna. If someone as spectacular as you believes a man is worth your while, he must be special indeed."

"Thanks, Anthony."

He kissed my head and closed the door. As the cab pulled away, I thought I might feel utter rejection and failure. Instead, relief broke over me in a wave. He was right. I was a gift, and I wasn't ready to waste myself lightly. There was still hope for Matt and me.

Perhaps I would see Anthony again in the future, but I didn't think so. It was better to vanish into the night, bound for greater things.

***

Sunday afternoon saw Heather dragging me around a suburban shopping centre. "I hate this. I hate this so much, Heather. I'd rather get a pap smear than do this. No, I'd rather wax Robbo's balls. Oo, I've got it; I'd rather use my tongue to clean the inside of a urinal in a men's prison."

"Evi! Gross!" Heather clapped her hands over her ears. "Don't be like that! It's not that bad!"

I lifted a swimsuit from the rack. "You're right. It's so much worse."

"You can't go to the Gold Coast for a week and not take swimmers." She thrust a vibrant purple one-piece at me. "Go and try this on."

It looked adorable on the rack, but I knew the evil ways of swimwear; once it left the hanger and covered my frame, it would morph into a stretched-out rag, barely covering what it should and allowing the worst kinds of bulges to wobble free.

But there was no arguing with my assistant. Huffing like a woman in labour, I snatched it up and left for the change rooms.

Cursing quietly, I stripped with my back to the mirror. My period was due in the next few days, and as I released my pendulous breasts from their industrial strength bra, they ached in the open air. Hopping on one foot, I stuffed myself into the swimmers. I had no intention of trying on any more pairs than I had to, so as long as the hateful item covered everything it legally needed to, it was being bought.

As I wrestled with the suit, Heather gasbagged through the curtain. "So, this weekend alone, you kissed a boy in WA and propositioned a man in Melbourne. I wonder what next week will bring?"

"Technically, Joel kissed me. And it was an unsuccessful proposition, so I don't know if that counts for anything..."

"It counts, trust me." She sighed happily. "You're doing it, girl! You're getting your groove on!"

"I'm not feeling very groovy right now." Finally, I was in the suit. It was snug, but it worked.

I was about to risk a glance in the mirror, when Heather's curious voice sounded from outside the curtain again. "Evi, is it good? Can I see?"

"No! It fits, I'm taking it." Hurriedly, I yanked it off and redressed.

"Yay! I'm so glad." Heather was practically dancing as I joined her and headed for the counter. "We're staying at the Hilton, and they're right on the beach and they've got these amazing pools and a steam room and hot tubs and a sauna!"

"Oh. Good." I knew I could never make Heather understand the angst of a big woman in a swimsuit in public. Maybe I could feign illness, or pretend to sprain something...

We made the purchase and raced back to the car. "We'll need to head straight to the airport; we fly at four."

"What time is work in the morning?" I asked, trying to subtly extract information about the week.

"I guess I can tell you now..." She unlocked the Mini, waiting until we were inside, just to torment me. "I get to do some research over the next few days too!"

"Why?"

"You're going to be working at the super-elite Radiance Beauty Centre."

"And what, pray tell, do they do at Radiance?"

She grinned and revved the Mini in excitement. "Cosmetic surgery!"

Hey pretty reader - Thanks for coming on this journey with Evi - if you're feeling frustrated by the lack of shag time, please understand, this is a Gen-fic romance, not the other way around.  I saw a comment from someone earlier saying this was a good book for an Erotica - if that's what you're here for, this will be a very irritating read for you!  There will be sexy times, but it's more about Evi learning about herself than Evi scoring a man.

Please remember to support the book with a vote (especially if you hate shopping for a swimsuit as much as Evi) - xxoo Kate