He waves the bartender over and orders another three beers.
Georgia has appeared on his other side. “And you are?”
“Chance Bateman.”
“Not drunk,” I tell him.
He chuckles, and it’s a hearty sound. I smile, watching his dimples like they have their own stage. “Never been a problem before. In fact, I perform better without the booze.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m talking about playing football. Came here after my team’s game, so yeah, I’m not drunk.”
“Football?” I know enough that the AFL season is yet to start.
“Soccer.”
“Georgia, take a photo of us.” I hand her my phone. “My dad’s a fan of soccer.”
“Sure, sure…” He shoots me a wink, and on him it’s sexy. “That’s what they all say.”
“For real. I can’t wait to tell him I was chatting with one of the players.”
“Did you win?” Georgia asks, raising the camera.
His arm loops around my shoulder. “Yep. And we’ll be the team to beat in the finals.”
“Rather cock-sure of yourself.”
“Chance here thinks arrogance wins the girls.”
I look up into another pair of baby blues and wonder if blue contact lenses were handed out at the door.
“You AFL guys think your shit doesn’t stink,” Chance says, and slaps his friend’s back. Both hug with another mateship pat on the shoulder.
“On this occasion, he’s not bullshitting. Chance here is the new face of Australian soccer, so he doesn’t classify as a loser.” It takes a moment for my brain to catch up.
Georgia hands over my phone and joins the circle. “Reef Burton.” It’s like she’s speaking her thoughts out loud, which I appreciate because now I have a name.
“Hey.” He holds out his hand.
“Georgia,” she says, smiling as though she’s in front of a camera.
He nods to me. “So, Georgia, you’re not on the loser friend list?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I murmur.
“Right. Let’s run with that.” He raises his beer and, unlike his friend Chance, hot surfer guy is drunk. Maybe even more so than me. “See how long you can go without insulting anyone.” His blue eyes lock with mine. Damn, I could do him and stare into those hues all night long.
“Okay, buddy.” Chance places an arm around Reef’s shoulders. “Not sure what’s going on here?” He glances at me, and I raise my hands and shrug.
Reef regains his balance and unloops Chance’s arm. “How’s Adele? Your parents?”
I back up a few paces and turn to my friend. “I’m gonna go. I have to start early in the morning, and I want to check on Dad.”
“Are you kidding? Look who we’re hanging with. This never happens,” Georgia whines and adjusts her blonde locks to fall neatly over her shoulders. “Five more minutes, babe.”
“I’m done. Stay if you want. I can’t risk being so hungover I’ll miss my alarm, and there’s no way I can lose my job. Even worse, if something happened to Dad while I’m out… I gotta go.” My nerves are on high alert thinking about it. Being this close to Reef Burton isn’t helping the tightness in my chest.
“All cool. There’ll be other times. I’ll cab it home with you.”
“Thanks.” Another time when Reef Burton and I aren’t so drunk.
We head for the door, and I hear, “See you tomorrow, loser.”
Chapter Three
MACY
An hour after opening the restaurant, Reef and his friends funnel in through the door. My heart skips a beat remembering snippets of last night, especially the way he emphasised loser to me. Like the other times, they sit at the table closest to the front window. Reef’s back is to the window, and I’m right in his line of sight.
Every time I glance his way, I catch him checking me out right before he averts his gaze. For more than an hour, we play a game of cat and mouse. Gone is the loud, cocky guy from last night. His conversation with his teammates is a whisper.
The guy sporting a red mullet waves me over. “Sweetheart, can we get another round of coffee?”
“Three flat whites, a soy latte, and a skinny latte—lactose-free.” On the last word, I glance at Reef confirming his order.
“Yes, thanks.” Then he glances down to the abstract lines and arrows on the back of the menu. He taps a pen and draws another line from C to E.
“And how are we feeling this morning,” I say in a chirpy voice, the same upbeat tone I use with every customer. Better make nice since it’s kind of awkward.
Reef’s focus remains on the paper on the table. His mates all shoot perky responses, and when the bell rings on the door, I hesitate in surprise and smile at the guy I met last night. Chance places an arm around my shoulder as though we’ve been friends for years.
“These idiots giving you trouble?”
“Sit down, Bateman,” one says.
“I’m taking these idiots coffee orders.”
Chance gives me his killer smile. Dimples creasing. “Flat white. One sugar.”
When I return with the tray of coffees, Chance has squeezed in on the other side of Reef.
“How long you staying, Bateman?”
“Have the red-eye flight out in the morning.” He glances up to me. “Gonna miss me, sweet cheeks?”
For the first time, Reef glances up. “Sweet cheeks?”
“Yeah. We’re mates, in case you didn’t remember last night.”
“What happened last night?” the guy with the mullet asks.
“Reef was wasted, and he was paying me out, so Chance here stuck up for me.” I give Chance a subtle look, so he knows I’m messing with Reef, making a joke to smooth out the tension.
Reef’s face glows.
“You, big fella?” Mullet guy says and bursts into a belly laugh.
Spinning on my heel, I head out back to the kitchen, leaving Reef to explain what he can’t remember.
While I’m attending to food in the kitchen, the footballers vacate their table. I head back out and stack their plates on a tray and notice the vibe in the restaurant change. Tossing each scrunched napkin on top of the tray, I stall seeing words on a napkin placed under the sugar bowl.
Sorry if I upset you.
Let me buy you a coffee sometime.
If you’re not embarrassed to hang with ‘Losers’.
Picking up the napkin, I fold it small enough to shove it in my back pocket.
So he’s giving me the chance to make a play. Maybe I understand more about football than I first realised.
One more hour.
I have checked the clock since lunch, my headache worsening by the minute. In the kitchen, I guzzle water and throw down some aspirin before heading back out to face customers. The door adjoining the kitchen and dining area swings open.
“Hey, Mace.” Oliver waves out along with Ava and her son, Louis trailing behind. “I left some stuff here I need to read over before Monday.”