Limerence (9 page)

Morning light shines in at me from a crack in the curtains; I sit up and see Oliver snoring softly. I think back to last night and wonder whether it had all been a dream.

I slip my feet out from under the covers—the room is surprisingly steady—and I make a break for the bathroom. I slip under the hot current of water from the shower and let it wash away my troubles until hunger gets the better of me. I feel a flood of relief that my head isn’t hurting too much. Although it’s thudding in the background, it’s nothing some painkillers can’t handle. I dry myself, slip on one of Oliver’s long T-shirts, and make my way to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

I hear Rachael’s bedroom door open as I begin to whisk some eggs up in a bowl, and I look up to smile at her. It’s only just after nine on a Saturday, so she must have had a great night to be up this early.

I hope she’s not hungover; she was out drinking much later than I was. Chris walks by me with a sheepish grin and I can’t stop the shocked look from forming on my face. Rachael holds his hand and trails behind him to the door. I try to pull the T-shirt lower to cover my legs, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

“Can’t you stay for breakfast?” She wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him into a deep kiss.

He pries her arms off. “Ummm, no, I need to get going, things to do and all that.” He looks over to me with a smile. “Morning, Mia. Did you have a good time last night?”

“Morning.” I smile back. “Last night? Oh, erm, yeah, it was great. Bit too much to drink you know, but it was fine. You?” I busy myself with whisking the eggs ferociously.

I hate being privy to their conversation, never mind being included in it when from the look on Rachael’s face she wants him all to herself.

“Everyone seems nice enough, and I liked The Red Room. You’ll have to come next time,” Chris continues. “We were dancing for hours.” He looks me over. “I bet you’re a great dancer.”

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks again. “Erm, yeah. It’s a great place. Next time me and my boyfriend will definitely be there.” I emphasize the boyfriend part. Chris seems a little too friendly for my liking. Especially as my best friend is standing right in front of him, half naked and offering herself up on a plate.

Rachael frowns at me and then turns her attention back to Chris, continuing her seduction techniques. “I can be very tempting, Mr Mayer.” She purrs with a wink.

Chris pulls her arms from around his waist again. “I’m sure you can, but I need to get going. Another time though, eh?” He smiles down at her pouting face. “I’ve got stuff to do,” he chuckles and kisses her on the cheek, and then turns to leave. “See you Monday, Rachael. And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around too, Mia. Hopefully another drink soon, eh?” He winks at me and leaves.

I don’t know who is more embarrassed by his brush-off, Rachael or me. She stomps over to the breakfast bar and sits down with an
oomph
. The silence sits around us awkwardly. Rachael is lost in her own thoughts, but her eyes watch me move around the kitchen constantly.

“Good night?” I ask, while I pour her a coffee with a grin and try to distract her from the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Hmmmm.” She’s still lost in thought as she wraps her hands around the mug. I cook breakfast for the two of us, deciding to leave Oliver sleeping for now, and we tuck into bacon, eggs, toast, tomatoes—the works.

I ponder last night, and my thoughts guiltily stray to Mr Breckt. How strong his arms had felt wrapped around me, and I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Oliver hadn’t come in when he did. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that last train of thought.

I love Oliver, I truly do. He’s my life, my soul, he’s my everything, and I can’t wait for us to get married and share our life together. But there’s just something about Mr Breckt. I can’t explain how I feel when he’s around. It’s as if I’m drawn to him and everything and everyone is just irrelevant when he is there. I feel awful about how I feel. I know it’s wrong but I can’t help but wonder how long I can fight my feelings. If I love Oliver so much, then how can I feel like this over another man—someone who’s practically a stranger to me? I shudder. Then realise that Rachael is staring at me.

My eyes swim back into focus. “What?”

“You,” she says flatly.

“Me? What about me?” I ask with confusion.

I can see her pondering on her words for a moment before answering. “Nothing. Are you not going to eat the rest of that?” She huffs and then nods at my plate. I realise I’ve hardly eaten a thing. My hunger has subsided after only a few bites and I push the plate away.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

She widens her eyes at me but takes my plate and demolishes the lot.

“You worked up an appetite last night then, I guess.” I laugh and she looks up smugly from wiping the toast around in the tomato juice left on the plate.

“Yep, you can say that again.”

I take her plate over to the sink. “You sure you know what you’re doing with him though, sweetie?” I turn the taps on and begin to fill the sink with water, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible whilst I let my words settle. I don’t like Chris, I’ve decided.

“Yes, I’m sure. Why do you say that?”

“No reason. Well…he seems lovely, I just think, I don’t know, Rach. It’s just I’ve seen you with guys like him before. I just think he’s a bit of a player if I’m honest, and well…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I hear her sharp intake of breath and feel guilty.

“Well, he’s not a player, Mia!” she snaps. “I think he might even be
the one
,” she giggles nervously, and I spin to look at her.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Rach, you only met him yesterday,” I choke.

“So, what does it matter when I met him? When you know, you know. We had a connection. He even took me to see his employer.” She stands defiantly with her hands on her hips.

I look at her in confusion. “How very romantic of him!” Sarcasm drips from me.

“It was, actually,” she scowls at me. “It’s only the same as you and lover boy.”

“Rach, sweetie, this is nothing like me and Oliver, and you know it.”

I laugh aloud as she stamps her foot at me. “It is so the same.” Tears brim in her eyes.

I stare wide-eyed. “Rachael . . .” I don’t know how to continue with the sentence that I’ve begun. Tact isn’t one of my strong points, and I fumble with my words as I watch her face getting angrier with me.

“You know, Mia, this goody two-shoes act is getting pretty old with me. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at him.” Rachael turns on her heel and stomps off to her room like a moody teenager.

She shouts back to me. “You’re not the only one who can fall in love you know, Mia.” And she slams her door behind her.

I stand frozen to the spot, unsure of what has just happened. The sink overflows behind me and I turn to it as the water cascades to the floor.

“Damn it,” I curse, turning off the taps.

Oliver comes down the hallway in just his boxer shorts. His hair is messy as he scratches his chin and looks at me with those big brown eyes of his. He glances with confusion to Rachael’s room as he passes.

“I think she’s crying,” he states with a yawn, pulling his hands through his hair. My face goes red from holding back my own tears.

“Well it’s not my fault.” Now I feel like stamping my foot.

“What’s up with you?” His eyes widen as he notices the water on the floor. “What happened there?” He looks at my face; my bottom lip is trembling furiously.

“What did I miss, babe?” He comes around the counter and wraps his arms around me. Last night’s situation floats away from us, and even though I know it’s stupid, I can’t help but cry.

When I pull away, I feel Oliver tense around me before releasing me, as if he doesn’t want to let me go.

“I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her. I’ve no idea what I’m crying for and the sink over flowed because I left the tap running because I’m an idiot and a goody two-shoes, apparently!” I wail the last part and start crying all over again, and he holds me tight. I’m pretty sure I feel him chuckle as he kisses the top of my head, but I don’t care as I relinquish myself to my self-pity and cry louder.

*

We decide to go out for the day: a drive down to the beach with a little picnic. The time alone together will do us good and the weather is lovely today. I’m hoping the time away from the pressures of work and friends will help clear the air between us. Perhaps even stop my wayward thoughts of Mr Breckt. We’re meant to be going out tonight with Caitlyn and Will, but there’s still some tension that we could do with clearing before we go out.

We stop by Mum and Dad’s coffee shop to pick up our supplies on the way. I smile and give Mum a quick hug, waving a hello to Dad through the serving hatch as Oliver goes to speak to him. It’s hot in here today—even the windows are steamy—but that hasn’t stopped the place from filling up with customers, I notice with a smile.

“So, what can I do for you?” Mum asks whilst making coffee. I fill her in on our plans for the day. “Sounds great. Well you two kids help yourself to what you need, and when you see that sister of yours tonight, tell her to give your father and me a call. We hardly ever see her anymore since she moved up to the city.” She misses Caitlyn; she’s the older of us, but she’s still mum’s baby.

The door tinkles again as someone else comes in. “We’re so busy today and Hayley didn’t come into work, so we’re short-staffed as well.” She wipes her hands on her apron and takes someone’s money.

“Did she call in sick?” I ask as I grab some cold drinks and fruit out of the fridge.

“No, she didn’t. The cheeky little madam. She better have a good apology when I see her. Part time or not, this isn’t good enough.” Her voice raises half a notch as more people come into the already over-full coffee shop.

“It’s good to see the place busy though, Mum. Try not to get too mad at her.” I can’t help but smile to myself. Mum doesn’t normally get angry or stressed, and she prides herself on being the calm one of the family. It is strangely refreshing to see her so different.

I take two slices of cherry pie from the serving dish and slide them into a take-out box. “She’s probably just too sick to get to the phone. I bet she’ll come in tomorrow with an apology for you.” I stick my head back inside to see what other goodies I can find.

“Well, she better. At this rate I’ll have no waitresses left.”

“Why do you say that?” I look back up.

“It was only last week that Emma quit. She didn’t even have the courtesy to come and see me; she sent me a text message A text message! Can you believe it? Who does that?”

I frown at her. No, that doesn’t sound like Emma at all. She is ditsy for sure, but she’s polite and never lets people down.

“What did it say?”

“Something about a sick aunt or something like that.” She turns to the customer in front of her. “Yes, dear. What can I get you?”

A sick aunt? Where have I heard that before?
I reach down under the counter for the paper take-out bags.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having, please.” The voice sounds muffled but familiar. I stand back up and see that it’s Chris.

Didn’t he say he was busy today?
I frown.

“Hi, Mia.” He looks at me with what can only be described as a cheeky grin and a glint in his eye.

“Hi,” I answer as I begin loading all our picnic things into the paper bags. I feel like I’ve caught him up to no good for some reason, and after the episode with Rachael this morning I do not want to be stuck in the middle of whatever is going on with them.

“I’ll leave you to serve your friend if that’s okay, Mia. We’re just so busy.” Mum wanders off to serve someone else, muttering under her breath about the lack of waitresses again.

Chris drums his fingers on the countertop. “So, what’s that you’ve got?”

I look back and realise that he’s still talking to me. He’s looking me over with an admiring gaze and I frown.

I look at the box in my hand. “Err, this?”

“Yes,” he smirks and licks his lips.

“Cherry pie,” I reply flatly.

He watches me with a cool confident gaze, yet I feel underneath his façade that he probably has a wicked temper and perhaps not so confident. I grab some plastic cutlery, shove it into the bag, and decide we have enough to fill us.He’s watching me move around behind the counter and I feel ridiculously self-conscious, my cheeks going red and hot under his scrutiny.

“Mmmm, looks delicious,” he says grinning from ear to ear childishly. “I love eating cherry pie.” His leer suggests it isn’t the pie that he’s talking about.

“You and Rachael seem to get on well.” I need to steer the conversation away from wherever it is going.

He frowns at me. “Yes, she’s quite something.” The words should be flattering for her, but they fall flat from his lips and I’m lost as to what else there is to say to him.

“Well, I’ve got to go.” Chris stands as I move around the counter to wait for Oliver.

“So where are you off to today?” he asks casually.