Blame It on the Bikini (12 page)

In the mornings now he came to the café and ordered a coffee. He never stayed more than ten minutes or so, always moved away when she got busy and had to serve someone. She spent the rest of the day looking forward to her shift at the bar.

Because now he turned up there early every night and urged her to do her worst in creating another cocktail or shot before the crowds came in. She loved the challenge and got the giggles over the often awful results. It didn’t matter if she made something that tasted hideous. They laughed about it—with him naming them outrageously. His word play had her in hysterics. He made suggestions; she ran with them. Together they came up with some bizarre mixes that actually worked and many, many failures. But with Brad, failing was more fun than not. And while they worked on it in that calm twenty minutes or so before the crowds appeared, they talked.

She admitted more about her parents’ troubles and told him about her cousins who lived around the corner. He listened and then, in turn, ‘fessed up more about his parents, and occasionally referenced his work. She knew he was incredibly busy; sometimes he came in looking drained but he always switched ‘on’ as soon as someone spoke to him. But she knew he went back home
after their cocktail-mixing session to do more work. It was why he never drank more than a mouthful of whatever they’d mixed. But mostly they laughed—teasing about everything from taste in music and TV shows to sports teams, and swapped stories of wild, fun times with Lauren.

Mya laughed more in those few minutes each day than she had all year. But fun as it was, it was also slowly killing her because her teen dreams were nothing on the adult fantasies she had now about Brad Davenport. He was so attractive, so much fun and yet so serious about the silliest of things for the party. His concern over the finest of details was so attractive.

In days he became a constant in her life—the one person she saw most of aside from her workmates. It was only for a few minutes, but they were the highlight. And then there were all those texts and the never-ending playlist suggestions for the DJ.

Three days before the party, in between her shifts at the café and the bar, Mya was studying at the library. Her phone vibrated with a message from Brad.

Where are you?

She chuckled at over-educated Brad’s inability to use any abbreviated text language. She was similarly afflicted. So she texted back her grammatically correct reply and went back to her books.

She didn’t know how long it was before she glanced up and saw him standing at the end of the nearest row of books. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘It’s my natural home.’ He winked as he walked nearer.

‘But you of all people should know you’re not allowed food in the library.’ She gave the paper bags he was carrying a pointed look.

‘No one will see us.’ He jerked his head and sneaked down the stacks away from the study tables and well out of range of the librarian’s help desk.

‘Brad,’ she whispered. But in the end there was no choice but to follow, and she’d come over all first-year giggly student in the library in a heartbeat.

In the narrow space, surrounded by thick, bound books, he opened the bag and pulled out a couple of pottles and put them on a gap in the shelves.

‘What is this?’ she asked, intrigued.

‘Chocolate mousse.’

Of course it was; why had she even asked? But she did, and she had to ask the even more obvious. ‘You want me to try them?’

‘Yes, they come in these cute little cups, see?’ he whispered. ‘Which do you think, mint or chilli?’

‘You are taking this far too seriously.’ She shook her head, but licked her lips at the same time. Yum. She took a tiny bit on two teaspoons and tried them. ‘They’re both really good. I think Lauren would like—’

‘Which do
you
like best?’ he interrupted, his gaze boring into her.

Mya’s skin goosebumped while her innards seared. She’d missed that look these past couple of days—that full-of-awareness-and-forbidden-desires look. She’d thought he’d gone all friendly and party efficient and had forgotten that kiss altogether—or didn’t think it was worth anything. Now all she could think of was that kiss and how much it had moved her and that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of it too.

‘Why does it matter what I think?’ She didn’t have to try to whisper now. Her voice had gone completely husky. ‘This is for Lauren, not me.’

‘She’ll like what you like,’ Brad insisted, stepping closer. ‘Come on, tell me.’

She’d never had lust-in-the-library fantasies. Until now. And right now, all she wanted was for Brad to kiss her again in this quiet, still space.

‘You’ve gone red,’ he said. ‘Was the chilli-chocolate too hot?’

‘Must have been,’ she muttered.

He was looking at her mouth. Could he please stop looking at her mouth? Did she have a huge gob of mousse on her lip? Because he looked as if he wanted to
taste
, and she wanted him to, very much.

Mya had never felt so hot.

But Brad missed her scorching thoughts. ‘Mint it is, then.’

She nodded. Just. ‘You’ve really got into this,’ she said, trying to pull herself together as he replaced the lids on the pottles and put them back in the bag.

‘I’ve discovered my latent party-planning talent.’ The smallest smile quirked his mouth. He glanced at her and caught her staring. ‘So you’re all set up to bring her?’

‘It’s all sorted.’ Mya nodded. She’d arranged it with Lauren a few days ago. But now that the party was so close, she felt irrationally ill at ease—even unhappy. She’d be glad when it was over, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t sure any more. But the worse feeling was the jealousy—she was envious of how much effort he’d gone to for his sister. Which was just mean of her.

She walked away from him, hiding from his intent gaze, back out to the table she’d been studying at. Hopefully he’d leave right away. But he didn’t. He pulled out the seat next to hers, sat and flipped open his iPad, hooking into the university’s wireless network.

How was she supposed to study now? He didn’t get
that when he was around, her brain shut down and all she could think of now was lewd behaviour in the library. She coped for less than five minutes and then she spoke without thinking.

‘Did you ever get it on in the library in your librarian days?’

He shot her a startled look.

‘I mean—’ she felt her blush growing ‘—that’d be the kind of thing you’d have done back then, right?’

She trailed off as his intense look grew. He slowly shook his head.

He hadn’t?
Really?
She’d have thought that Mr Slayer like him would have … but no. He hadn’t. Nor had she, of course. And now here they were …

Oh, hell, why did that excite her all the more?

She looked at him and decided honesty was the best policy. ‘I can’t concentrate on my study when you’re around,’ she mumbled. ‘At the bar, the café, it’s different. I don’t need to think as hard as I do here. But I can’t
think
with you …’ She trailed off.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with those penetrating eyes. He hadn’t moved in the past ninety seconds. She wasn’t sure if he was even still breathing. Mya felt even hotter than before but now there was a huge dose of embarrassment twisted into her inner furnace as well. She’d all but admitted she still fancied him. But the fact was now she fancied him more than ever. And he’d gone all
buddy
on her.

‘Maybe it’s best if we work out any last-minute plans over the phone or something,’ she said quickly, trying to recover. ‘It would be easier, don’t you think?’

Slowly he blinked and then seemed to see straight through her. ‘That’s what you want?’

‘That would be for the best,’ she squeaked.

He remained still for a very long moment, still watching her. And then he whispered, ‘What are you going to wear?’

She froze; like his look, his question breached the boundaries from friendly to intimate—but she’d done that herself already. Now she felt she’d plunged off the edge of a cliff and was swimming in darkness. Who knew which direction the safe beach was? ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Not black,’ he said quietly.

‘Probably.’

‘No,’ he muttered. ‘Give me that at least.’

‘Okay.’ Mya could hardly swallow and her skin was doing that hot-and-cold tingly thing again. ‘You’ve done such a great job,’ she said softly, aiming for that conversation-closing platitude—that she meant with all her being. ‘She’s going to be so thrilled.’

‘You think?’ His smile lanced her heart. ‘I hope so.’

Suddenly he stood, not pausing to pack away his gear, just shoving it into his case as he left.

Instantly she felt bereft. But it was for the best. She looked down at the black-and-white text in front of her—the case names and details she had to understand and memorise. She didn’t see any of them. She sighed and blinked to refocus. The sooner the party was over, the better.

He didn’t text the day of the party. He didn’t need to, of course; he had everything planned to the nth degree. But he’d got her thinking. She wanted to get dressed up. Really get dressed up in a way she hadn’t in years.
Her
kind of dressing where she’d been as loud and unconventional—deliberate, girly. Everything unexpected. She’d been in the black jeans so long she’d almost forgotten her
old style. But she didn’t have any money for anything new and had no time to make anything.

Yet there was one dress she could wear. She shied away from the thought—it would be so obvious, wouldn’t it? But she could adapt it, she could wear a wrap or a cardigan or something to dress it down a little … she could get away with it. Maybe.

She went to her parents’ house and picked it up, smiling to herself throughout the long bus-ride. She realised she was more excited about seeing him than she was about seeing Lauren’s reaction to her surprise.

Once dressed, she went to Lauren’s as she’d arranged for their ‘girly night out’—their first in ages.

‘Look at you!’ Lauren squealed when she greeted her at her door.

‘Ditto.’ Mya laughed at how glamorous Lauren looked.

‘Where should we go first?’ Lauren asked, her eyes sparkling.

‘I promised Drew I’d drop something in at the bar. Is it okay if we go there first?’ Mya spun her line.

‘’Course!’

Mya sent the ‘we’re coming’ text as they climbed into the taxi. All the way there she kept up an inane patter about one of her regular café customers—not Brad. Mya’s heart thudded as they swept up the steps. Kirk was on the door and he winked as they walked up and he swung the door open for them.

There was a moment of silence. Then a collective scream.

‘Surprise!’

The cacophony of almost a hundred people screaming momentarily deafened her, but Mya chuckled. The glitter confetti bucketing down on them might have been a
touch OTT but that was all the more fun. She gazed at Lauren for her reaction.

Only then she noticed that Lauren was looking right back at her with a huge grin on. And then she heard the crowd chanting.

‘Mya! Mya! Mya!’

‘What?’ Mya gazed round in confusion.

Then—who knew from where—a gong sounded and they all screamed again in unison.

‘Happy Birthday, Mya!’

Mya clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

‘This is for you,’ Mya tried to tell Lauren.

‘Uh-uh.’ Lauren shimmied closer with a wicked smile. ‘Fooled you. We all fooled you.’

Shocked, Mya stood immobile. She didn’t even breathe—only her eyes still functioned, sending images to her brain. And OMG they were all in on it. Jonny was laughing, her varsity mates. Even Drew was grinning. Her fellow baristas from the café were here. They’d all fooled her. They were all here for
her
.

It seemed Lauren had breathed in giggle-gas as she laughed delightedly, putting her arm along Mya’s shoulders.

‘But it’s not my birthday.’ Mya’s mouth felt as if she’d been at the dentist for a ten-hour procedure and she had all that cotton-gauze stuff still clogging it.

‘You never had a birthday party because you were working.’ Lauren laughed more. ‘So we took matters into our own hands.’

We
.

Mya looked into the smiling crowd once more. Her mouth automatically curved into an answering smile
even though she was still in shock, still couldn’t believe any of this.

Then she saw him. Brad.

And heaven help her he was all in black—black suit, black tie, black shirt. It emphasised his height, his eyes, his aura of simmering sexuality. The tailored tuxedo a perfect foil for her recycled old prom outfit. If they were a couple, they couldn’t have planned it better. Except they weren’t and they hadn’t.

But he’d planned it—this whole party. Had it been a set-up right from the beginning? What did he mean by all of this? Was this mere seduction? Or a gesture of kindness? Her heart thudded so fast she thought she might faint.

He strode forward from the throng of people and pulled her into a quick hug. ‘I changed my mind about the party once we got to talking,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘I thought it would be more fun to have a party for you.’

Her fingers touched his smooth jacket briefly, the contact with his body
far
too brief. He pulled back and looked at her for a split second, a shot of truth in his gaze—serious, sweet sincerity.

So all the things he’d asked her about hadn’t been for Lauren, but for her? No wonder he’d wanted to know which mousse
she’d
preferred. She blinked rapidly, emotion slamming into her. Pleasure, disbelief, gratitude, confusion.

She went cold again—and hot. She wanted this, she appreciated this, she did. But part of her wanted to escape as well. Part of her wanted to be alone.

Okay, not alone. She wanted to be with Brad.

Brad had lost all ability to move the moment he saw her. For a snatched moment of time his heart had stopped, his muscles froze solid, his brain shut down completely. When his system started again, it sped straight to a higher rate than usual. Adrenalin coursed through his veins and desire shot straight to his groin. Yeah, that was the part of him most affected. He drew a deep breath and forced his body to relax. Mya had made it more than clear it wasn’t happening. And that was fine. He was man enough to handle rejection. Except she didn’t look as if she was saying ‘no’ now. Her green eyes were wide and as fixed on him as his were on her. He’d known all along she was attracted to him, but determined not to have a hot affair. He could respect that. He was a man, not an animal, and all this tonight really hadn’t been about trying to make it happen. Only now he finally saw it—the surrender in her eyes, the seduction.