“What disturbs me is you coming home early unnecessarily. I thought you were having a fun night out?”
I shrug. “I wanted to come home.”
“You know I’m never going to tell you not to come home because you belong here as much as me. But I am telling you not to come home for me. Pretty girl like you needs to be out having fun on a Saturday night.”
“Dad, please don’t start with the I-need-to-meet-some-nice-guy because guys aren’t like you. Many are not nice. I’m happy. Okay?” I give him a pointed look and focus on his damp hair. He’s up, showered, and eaten breakfast before me. “Why are you so chirpy this morning?”
“I forgot what’s it like to wake up feeling refreshed. Change of diet. No beer. A bit of exercise. I’m already feeling like a new man.”
I giggle at the wink he sends me. “I could say I told you so, but I won’t.”
“Yet, you did.” He chuckles. “Any chance us going to the pool, and I’ll do some exercises?”
“Absolutely,” I say with a mouthful of banana. “We can head there after our morning tea.”
I’m nearly asleep when I hear my phone ting. I added alerts to Instagram, so I didn’t miss any of Reef’s messages.
Have any plans Tuesday night? Boys are heading out.
There it is. The booty call I’m waiting for. Why would I believe it’s anything else?
Sure. What time?
Why do I expect him to message niceties when I’m the one who put him straight?
Monday morning, I head into work wearing a little more makeup than usual.
Oliver hails Ava and me into the office. “There was an incident with some homeless people over the weekend,” he says. “One was taken to the hospital when a brawl broke out, and he was injured.” He raises his arms after reading my expression. “It wasn’t your friend,” he adds quickly. “But we need to be aware and not allow anyone entry late if they’re intoxicated. You’re not rostered on the late shifts, but I’m sending out a staff email. I wanted to reassure you it wasn’t—”
“Harry?”
“Right. This week I’m running an ad on the radio station. Everyone who mentions the ad gets free cake with a coffee. As you can imagine, Dominic is having kittens.”
Ava and I chuckle. Simultaneously, pans crash, and we turn to see him flapping about in the sink.
“I can give him a hand out here.”
“Awesome. I’ll allocate Ava the majority of the tables, so you can help out. I can also assist her.”
Two hours later, I enter the dining room to help Ava with the mid-morning rush.
The moment my gaze links with Reef’s, heat zaps through me, straight to my core. I’m flooded with memories of Saturday night, desire escalating, and it unnerves me, especially the way Oliver is frowning at me.
“Everything okay?” Oliver asks.
“Yep. Dominic has seven cakes planned. One for each day of the week. He’s panicking on how many to cook.”
“Today will be a guide, and I asked him not to get in a flap.”
I sigh. “He doesn’t think it’s enough.”
Oliver shakes his head, and I laugh.
“You should speak to him,” I say. I glance around the restaurant as though assessing tables, and deliberately avoid Reef’s flirty stare. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as though I’m playing a stupid game and trying not to get caught.
I lose because the moment I sneak a peek, my knees buckle. His eyes tell me a story. We’re both gaping as though lust is the only vapour we breathe. I give him a curt nod. He waves me over. The other players now interested in what’s going down.
I take a few steps and stop at the table where Ava is serving. “Table 11 requires assistance when you have a moment.”
She frowns, and I know she’s thinking I should attend to the request. Her expression switches to realisation. “Table 11? Sure. I won’t be a moment.”
I head out back to collect more cake platters to restock the display fridge.
My chest is tight.
I stack the dishwasher and tidy up Dominic’s bench and endeavour to deny what I feel. We haven’t even had sex. Lust. It must be crazy in lust.
An hour later, Ava walks out back and whispers for me to head out as he’s waiting for me.
I spy him standing near the front door, waiting as though it’s no trouble. His friends have gone. Every step closer, my heartbeat picks up a notch. He oozes sex appeal in jeans and a black T-shirt, both hiding ripped muscles I’ve had the pleasure of licking. I focus on his chest, not his face until his arms fold over his pecs, and I look up.
Stupid mistake. He’s grinning, knowing I’m checking him out.
“Mace,” he says, and I want to crumble in a heap the way my name sounds on his tongue. “You look good.”
“Thanks.”
He leans in close to my ear. “Good enough to eat.”
“You can’t say that to me here.”
He chuckles. “Why not?”
“Because I have to get through the day, and I can’t if I’m only thinking about you.” His eyebrows rise, and so do mine. “I mean—”
He places a finger on my lips and moves it to reach into his pocket. “I wanted to make sure only you saw this.” He hands me a folded napkin.
I start to unfold it, and his hand stops me. “Read it later.”
I ignore him and open it.
You’re on my mind when I close my eyes.
I’m not complaining because I like to see you.
In the dark you brighten my room.
A time where I imagine all the ways I want to fuck you.
I want to hear you scream my name when you ride my cock.
I’m looking forward to Tuesday.
R.
I refold the napkin. He’s right. I’m glad this didn’t fall into anyone other than my hands. “So, this is what you have planned for Tuesday night?” I ask seriously.
His tanned neck slightly darkens enough for me to notice.
“You don’t need to sign it. I don’t receive dirty notes from anyone but you.” I hand it back to him. “Fine words, R, but not poetry.”
He gapes at me, and his expression turns mellow. “I’m sorry, I thought I—”
“Don’t be. See you Tuesday.” I place the note in his hand and swivel on my heel and head out to the kitchen, ignoring the ache in my chest. I know what I am and stupid to think I could be anything more.
“You okay?”
I didn’t even notice Ava standing beside me at the sink.
“Yep.” I force a smile. “You know the feeling when you’ve swum too far out in the ocean and get caught in a rip and struggle to keep your head above water?”
Ava nods. “All too well, and it’s scary as shit, babe. But don’t give up. Let the rip take you deeper. Or you can swim sideways to be free. The choice is yours.”
I had already made my choice.
After work, I take Dad to the pool, and I swim laps. My style has strengthened. I relish the water pooling around my ears blocking out sound and the rest of the world to clear my thoughts.