Strike (28 page)

“Yeah, not goin’ home until tomorrow. Why?”

“Do you reckon you could meet me for a beer?”

“Yeah, sure. Just say when.”

“I can meet you at the club in half an hour?”

“Sounds good, mate. See ya then.”

I hope to hell that Stone can give me some clue,
any
kind of clue as to what to do. I’m drowning here, and I fucking hate it.

****

“Hey, Stone, thanks for meeting me,” I say, handing him a schooner of beer. We grab a stool each and sit at a small round table against the large glass windows facing the water. If only I was in the mood to enjoy the view.

“Fuck, mate. I’m sorry about what happened with Mac, and April. That totally blows.”

“Yeah it does.” Understatement of the fucking century.

“Have you spoken to April since?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

I shake my head, and tear at the beer coaster beneath my glass. “I can’t.”

His dark eyebrows pull together, and he leans a closed fist to his hip. “Why the fuck not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like how?”

“Mac said my career on the team would be over if I didn’t stay away from her.” My head falls back and I stare at the ceiling. I take in a deep breath. When I look back at Stone, his pale blue eyes are widened, his jaw slack. “You guys are like … well, family.”

“Fuck me. He said that? He must really be pissed. Truthfully, I can’t see why the hell he’d wanna cut the golden boy loose. You love her though, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

A stupid I-knew-it grin spreads over his face, but then it halts as he raises his scarred eyebrow and points a finger at me. “And you didn’t cheat on her? ‘Cause that shit won’t fly with me.”

“Fuck no,” I snarl, gritting my teeth in an attempt to supress my rising anger. “I couldn’t do that to her.” I push out a long breath. “April had me wrapped around her little finger from day dot. She’s fucking perfect.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely one of the good ones,” Stone says and nods.

“And I’m fuckin’ pissed with that tequila stunt Rocco pulled. Mac couldn’t wait to throw that shit in my face. Just lemon juice into the wound. I never would’ve done it if our relationship was out in the open. It’s no fucking excuse, but I was trying to protect her. If I had my way, I would’ve done tequila with April but, you know, that wasn’t my call.”

“So what are you gonna do, mate?”

“I’ve got no fucking idea. There are two things I love, and I’m being made to choose.”

“If you really love her there’s only once choice to make.”

Somehow I knew the fucker would say that.

****

* APRIL *

Friday

I’m blessed to have a friend like Soph.
Blessed.
She stayed all week, barely leaving my side. She’d cut back her shifts, and under any other circumstances I wouldn’t have let her, but I’d had no choice. I was terrified to be alone. When I was, my thoughts would only lead to Spencer. I’d replayed every memory over and over, torturing myself. Trying to work out when he had the time to cheat, and if his behaviour had changed at any point. The one time that kept coming back to me, was the morning his phone rang and he ran out of my bedroom like his arse was on fire. And then Pet rang his phone. And then texted. Whoever
Pet
was, he or she were persistent.

I roll over in bed and Soph stirs next to me. Her blonde hair is in a bird’s nest, but she’s still as beautiful as ever. Her mascara is clumped and smeared. She rubs at her eyes, pulling at her lashes.

“Morning,” I mutter, pulling my pillow to my chest to snuggle.

“What time is it, babe?” she croaks out.

I glance over at the alarm clock. “Shit. It’s after ten. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m not working today anyway.”

“Hey, I was thinking … are you still keen to move in?”

“Yeah. Anything to get out of my fucked-up group house. Why?”

I shrug and turn my body to face her. “Just thinking about what’s next, you know?”

Soph brushes the hair off my face and cups my chin in her hands. “I could take care of you, you know,” she says, her expression deadly serious. She really cares about me.

“You do, Soph. You’ve listened to me cry like a baby, and held me when I needed to be held. Trust me. You take care of me.”

“I mean like a girlfriend. A couple,” she says, hesitantly, like she’s afraid of what I might say next.

“Oh, Soph. You’re so sweet but you know what team I play for.”

She sighs loudly. “Yeah. I know.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have turned to you for this. I hope it’s okay that I did. I really had nowhere else to go.”

“No, babe. I’m glad you did. I just need to stop torturing myself over you. I want an April all to myself. It’s not easy finding a girl. Not one like you.”

“If I knew someone, I’d push them your way in a heartbeat. You’re beautiful, Soph, and by far, the most incredible kisser … for a girl, that is. That night we went out and got plastered, and we kissed … you know I only did it to ward off the guys. I shouldn’t have, though, I was a shit for doing it … leading you on.”

“I know you’re as straight as they come, but I let you. Gotta take small victories when we can, huh?”

****

Later that day …

“Soph, we’re going out,” I blurt out.

“Babe, not a good idea. You’re not in the right—”

“Headspace? Yeah, I’m not, but I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna go out and get fucked up, and I’m doing it with or without you. It’s your choice.”

Each breath I take imbeds the hurt deeper. Each beat of my heart reminds me of how I loved Spencer, how I still love him. It hurts me more than I ever could have imagined. I need to do something to dull the pain, or at the very least, escape it, if only for a night.

Hands on hips, Soph huffs her blonde fringe from her eyes. “Fine, but I’ll have to raid your wardrobe.”

“I thought that was already assumed.”

We take our time doing the girly-get-ready routine, something I rarely indulge in. But Soph’s my best friend, and if I’m gonna do this kind of thing I’m doing it with her.

We style each other’s hair and paint our nails whilst sipping champagne. Soph does my makeup, which is nice for a change. It makes me feel … different, and it helps me imagine I’m someone else, because I don’t wanna be the girl who has lost her heart and wants to crumble into a heap every time she thinks of
him
.

“So, I kinda got asked to go on a date,” Soph says, as she finishes curling her hair.

“Ah, excuse me, but when the hell did this happen? Details. Spill.”

“You know how I cut my hand at work last week? Well, there was this doctor in Emergency. We kind of flirted a bit while she stitched me up. Hottest doctor I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I should’ve injured myself earlier.”

“And?” I ask, wide-eyed.

“I gave her my number that night. I must’ve made an impression, because she texted me today. Wants to go out with me.”

“That’s fucking fantastic, Soph. So what’s her name?”

“Bonnie.”

“Nice. So why don’t you ring her? Do it, Soph. You deserve to be happy.”

“I will; it’s just—” She sighs. Her shoulders slump, and she scratches the back of her head.

“What?” I bark.

“I don’t want to leave you. I need to make sure you’re good, you know?”

I shake my head, and hold out my empty glass to her. “Shut up and get me another champagne. I’ll be fine, Soph.”
One day
. “Don’t put your love life on hold for me. God, how long’s it been since you’ve had some sexy-time?”

Soph tops up our glasses and hands one to me. “Fuck, it’s been a long drought,” she admits. “I’m starting to worry that I’m exceeding the safe usage of my toys. I’m buying batteries every time I’m at the shop for milk and bread.”

I laugh out loud, and then pout. “Aw. My poor, poor friend. Well, I’m sure if you give this Bonnie chick a call, you might save yourself buying a couple of packs of AAAs.”

“Yeah, guess I should call her. Money’s tight,” Soph adds, and then pisses herself laughing. “They’re fuckin’ expensive.”

“Yeah, I’m hearing you.”

I walk over to rummage through my wardrobe.

“You know what sucks, Soph?”

“What?” She puts down her glass and walks over to stand beside me.

I throw my hands in the air. “I’m back in toy territory, Soph. Fuck Spencer and his perfect cock. He’s ruined me.”
No toy is gonna make me feel like he did.

Soph rolls her eyes and turns her head, ignoring me as she flicks through the tops on hangers.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Soph. I’ve had guys before, but Spencer …” I let out a long breath. “I
swear
his cock is magic.”

“I’ve had cock before,” she admits, and then tries to contain a cheesy grin.

Hello!
Soph’s had cock? My
lesbian
friend?

I stumble on my feet and grab her shoulder with one hand, and the side of my wardrobe with the other. “Noooo. What? You never once told me you’d been with a guy.” I can’t believe this. Does this mean she’s bi?

“That’s because I don’t care to remember, babe. Men are fuckers. I’m never going back. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Tell me what happened,” I ask, but my tone might as well have me on my knees begging her to tell the story.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not reliving it. So you can quit it.” Her mouth forms a hard line. She slips her jeans down and pulls a super-short sexy blue skirt over her narrow hips. Soph takes her long-sleeved top off and tugs a lacy black tank off a hanger.

“Did he have a magic cock? Is that what happened? Did he ruin you too?” I should be laughing, because what I just said was damn funny, but I don’t feel like giggling.

“Shut the hell up before I gag you and tie you up,” she says, slipping the tank on.

“Fine then. Hand me the sluttiest thing in my wardrobe.”

I’m determined to move on, whatever it takes.

****

I’m slamming down the Jägerbombs like they’re water. Damn they hurt, but not as much as being sober. I’m sick of crying. I have to get over him. I just don’t know what to do or how long it’ll take.

It wasn’t like this with the others. With Todd came a sense of relief. With Nick, I guess I always knew it wouldn’t last because I would have to come home eventually, but this? This sucks, big time.

Big time.

A pair of strong hands slip around my waist, pulling me back against a hard body. The combination of too much aftershave and rum infiltrates my nose in a fog.

“I thought that was you, April,” a male voice says in my ear.

Whoever it is, their face is about to meet my fist. I swing around, causing his arms to drop. I swing, and he dodges my fist, leaning back. I stumble on my heels and face-plant into his firm chest.
Well done, me.

Short black hair and olive skin. It takes me a second to realise who it is.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

* APRIL *

“Billy?” I mumble.

Fuck. One drink too many, me thinks.

“Shit, April, you’re blind.” Billy chuckles, holding my upper arms to steady me.

“Oh no. I’m seeing everything clear as fuckin’ day,” I lie. I can barely focus on one of him.

“Girls’ night out, huh?”

The boy’s a genius. Two girls together … must mean a girls’ night. He should be a brain surgeon with wits about him like that.

“Yup.”

“So you and Jones, huh?” he asks, his eyes zeroing in on my lips. He must know it’s over. Who knows what else happened between Daddy and Spencer in that room after I left? Spencer wouldn’t have been able to hide the damage from Daddy’s right hook.

“Nope. There is no me and
Jones
. He prefers to suck face with MX skanks.”
Among others
.

His dark eyebrows pull together. “What MX skanks? When?”

“Tequila shots after the championship win. You would’ve had a front row seat.”

His brow relaxes as realisation sets in. “The shots were harmless. I didn’t know about you two then, but I knew something was up with Jones. He wasn’t into it, and I swear it looked like he wanted to rip Rocco’s head off. One shot and he couldn’t wait to get away from the girl, as much as she tried to take it further.”

Is that the truth? Did he feel because our relationship wasn’t out in the open that he couldn’t back down from Rocco’s challenge?

The strong smell of rum exuding from Billy has me wondering if the alcohol is fuelling his stories.

“Yeah, well, we’re over,” I say, my words harsher than I’d intended.

I guess I believe what he’s saying. But even if it’s true, there’s still the issue of the threesome. I can’t forgive that.

Billy leans in close, the heady combination of alcohol and aftershave making me cough. “Lucky for me,” he says quietly in my ear.

Is he kidding?
Why would Billy be interested in trying for a shot? Does he have a death wish? Didn’t Spencer give a clear enough picture of what happens when someone touches Mac’s precious Peaches?

Billy is just a kid. I hadn’t pegged him for a player but maybe, having spent time with the manwhore of motocross, he’s keen to follow in Spencer’s footsteps.

“No, Billy. No lucky you.”

He places a hand on my hip. “You know, I hear there’s nothin’ like a bit of rebound sex. You can take out your frustrations on me. Promise, I won’t mind.”

I poke him in the chest, and glare at him. Boys suck. They suck arse. And Billy thinks he has a chance because I’m on the rebound.
And smashed out of my brain
.

“
Don’t
be like the others, Billy,” I warn, poking him right where I’d expect his nipple to be. He winces.
Bingo.
If this boy has half a brain in his head, he’ll know exactly what I mean.

He shrugs and his mouth smirks to the side. In another life I might find him cute.
Maybe if I were the same age.

He raises an eyebrow. I think he’s serious. Ha! This is funny. Shit funny.