Breeze of Life (11 page)

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Authors: Kirsty Dallas

BOOK: Breeze of Life
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“How about we make this a little more interesting?” I raised a brow, typical Harper wheeling and dealing. “If I win, I get to take you on a date. A bona fide, real, unequivocal boy girl date.”

“Did you just use the word unequivocal? That’s like a real grown up word, Harp. Congrats,” I teased, overlooking the fact he had just said he wanted to take me on a date. “What happened to keeping your hands to yourself?” I added.

Harper grinned at that. “Just because we are on a date doesn’t mean I have to maul you. I can control myself, question is, can you control yourself.” Hell yeah…maybe…possibly not. I sighed. I couldn’t deny the fact that I was intrigued about a date with Harper Somerville.

“And if I win?”

“I’ll sing in public with you.” Ohhhh, now that got my attention. Harper usually didn’t sing in front of anyone but me. He obviously thought he had this in the bag, he more than likely did. Nevertheless, I thrived on a little competition. I could never back down from a dare and I really, really wanted Harper to sing in public with me.

“Bring it on like Donkey Kong,” I said in a sing song voice.

“Hey, come here Sammy,” Harper called out to Sam who was still standing stoically by my side. I was beginning to wonder if little Sammy might have a little crush. Harper signaled for the boy to lean forward and he whispered something into his ear. Sammy gave him a serious nod and made his way back to me.

“Would you give me your hand a moment?” Sam asked a little nervously. I pulled off my glove, my eyes glued to Harper in a questioning gaze.  “Harper asked me to give you this.” Sam took my hand very tentatively and quickly pressed a chaste kiss to the back of my fingers. I tried to suppress a laugh. This was obviously the new and personal way to seal a Harper and Bree deal. Sam quickly let go of my hand, blushing profusely. I giggled and whispered in Sam’s ear. The boy laughed and ran back to the side of Harper’s kart.

“Bree said to keep your hands to yourself.” And he gave Harper a playful punch on the arm. Harper smiled and gave me a wicked grin that did crazy things to my heart. We then turned our attention to the track before us. We were both highly competitive people and once in the zone, nothing could deter us. After the three warm up laps I had been given, I had my start down pat. I was lighter too which gave me a slight advantage. I got away nice and clean and I was actually in front of Harper. That didn’t last long though as he easily overtook me. He seemed to have a little more speed, especially on the corners, but I had found the perfect racing line that cut seconds off my course time and somehow I managed to keep Harper clearly in my sights. By the second lap though Harper had it in the bag and my only chance was if he spun out—which, of course, he didn’t.  Instead he waited for me at the finish line with a shit eating grin on his handsome face that irritated me no end. I hated losing and now I was going on a date with Harper. The idea confused me. We had eaten out together hundreds of times, we had eaten in together hundreds of times, how was this going to be different?

Once we took another round of photos and had said our goodbyes, we made our way back to the Jeep.

“You’re pouting, baby girl,” Harper whispered in my ear. I opened my mouth, a snappy retort on the tip of my tongue, but it never came out. Damn it. I was pouting just like blow-up-Barbie.  “I know a way to make you smile but you want me to keep my hands to myself.”  At his words my mind raced with dirty images of me and Harper and I tripped over my foot like a clumsy, mindless fool. Harper held my arm to make sure I didn’t go down. “What I’d give to know where your mind went on that trip,” he wondered out loud. Once we reached the Jeep he cast me a wicked grin. “I think we better find a hotel where I can freshen up for my date.” 

“I hope you don’t plan to take your date somewhere fancy because I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have any nice dresses,” I said nervously.

“My date could wear a hessian bag for all I care, she’s beautiful.” I caught my reflection in the window as Harper opened my door for me. It had been a while since I had really looked at myself. Mirrors were forbidden in the apartment, I tried very hard not to notice my deathly pale reflection. I was still too skinny but that wouldn’t be forever. Forever? I was seriously thinking past tomorrow, past Christmas, past another year. My hair was gone but it would grow back. My eyes which had felt so dark and sad were now a little brighter and that bluish greenish combination sparkled back at me. Harper pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head.

“Like I said, beautiful,” he said still holding the door open for me. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what to say. I had always felt confident in my skin, I wasn’t model material but I was pretty enough. Even though my appearance had changed, I was still Bree ‘Breeze’ Delany under that skin, and she quite possibly had the potential to be beautiful.

Chapter 10

At the Peak

 

Where the wave forms in a manner that the surfer can choose to go either right or left

 

I had climbed on the bed in an attempt to get a full-length reflection of myself in the hotel’s mirror. I really did hope we weren’t going anywhere too fancy. Without my wardrobe on hand, the best I could manage were a pair of fitted black jeans, a beige top that hung low off one shoulder and a pair of strappy sandals. I wore a head wrap with shades of emerald that brought out the green in my eyes. I didn’t have any makeup, but didn’t really need it. My skin was smooth though pale, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I had no eyelashes to apply mascara to, and two lovely arched brow lines that needed no touching up. I guess I looked nice. A knock at my door caught me by surprise and I almost fell off the bed. I knew it would be Harper, but he said he wouldn’t come for me until seven, it was only six thirty. Carefully climbing down, I pulled open the door to reveal Harper. Hell he was gorgeous—strong, bronze and perfect.. My eyes took a long time to wander down the length of his tall, lean, muscular frame. I didn’t get it, he wasn’t wearing anything I hadn’t seen him in before. Frayed and worn light denim jeans, a black button up shirt rolled to the elbows displaying his tattooed forearms. Black Converse sneakers, yep, I’d seen this a thousand times and sure, I had imagined myself wrapped in those arms. I had always entertained thoughts of Harper dressing up for me and me alone. And now he was, wow! Just, wow! When my brain snapped to attention and I realized I had been brazenly eyeballing my best friend, I quickly returned my gaze to his face where he wore a highly satisfied and arrogant smile.  I tried to recover with an offhand shrug.

“You look okay, I guess.” Harper’s eyes then looked me up, down and up again, lingering for a moment on my breasts. Seriously? My barely there breasts?

“If I wasn’t trying damn hard to keep my hands to myself, I would be slamming this door shut and fucking you six ways to Sunday.” My mouth dropped open. How in the hell did this man keep taking me by complete and utter surprise? This man who I knew better than myself was now a complete mystery to me. Harper rubbed his hand over his short hair. “That probably wasn’t the smoothest thing to say on a first date. I guess I’m a bit out of practice. You look nice,” he tried again. My laugh was one of disbelief and genuine amusement.

“Just nice, huh?” I teased.

“Incredible? Stunning? Amazing? Beautiful?”

“That’ll work,” I said a little breathlessly. How on earth would I get through this date keeping my hands to myself?

We drove through the town until we came to a quaint cottage style house that had been renovated into a restaurant. Inside was dimly lit with polished timber floors giving the place a cozy ambience, but it was the outdoor section that caught my attention. A back garden had been transformed into every girl’s fantasy with twinkling fairy lights through the trees, candles everywhere and a glowing wood-fire pizza oven right in the center. Norah Jones played softly in the background as we were led to a table. Harper politely pulled out my chair and as much as I wanted to tease him for the rare gentlemanly gesture, it was far too sweet to mock.

“Could we get two glasses of champagne and a carafe of water please?” Harper asked, taking his own seat. The waitress, who had been appreciating Harper just a little too much for my liking, finally scurried off. I pretended not to care and looked over the menu. Harper, however, was just staring at me.

“What?” I asked feeling self-conscious. “Do I have a booger in my nose or something?” Harper laughed and shook his head.

“Not at all, you really do look beautiful. You know that right? You rock the bald look like a damn queen, you look stunning in that top, I mean, everything about you is just perfect. You always have been.” My mind raced for something to say. The poet in me was speechless. Harper always had a way with words, but I found I needed to put mine down on paper first, otherwise I was prone to moments of epic foot-in-mouth. “Chill out, baby girl,” Harper chuckled. “I know this is weird. I know we’ve been friends for like, what, forever? But I told you in March how I felt about you and I know the timing was fuc…” Harper pulled himself up just in time. He was doing well, so far he only owed me a couple of hours of slavery. “My timing sucked. You didn’t deserve me telling you like that, but I’d wanted to tell you for what seemed like forever. And I know I somehow managed to screw it up even more with Naomi. What can I say—epic fail of mammoth proportions. I just want us to take things slowly, okay? One day at a time and no freaking out. I promised you I would keep my hands off you and I will be the perfect gentleman. I plan on showing you exactly how much you mean to me.” I licked my lips nervously and of course Harper’s eyes zeroed in on the action. He groaned loudly. “Damn, baby, just don’t do that, it’s too damn sexy.” A small smile tugged the corner of my mouth. I was trying so damn hard to be good, to keep the line of friendship firmly drawn between us. All those strange feelings and emotions that Harper had always made me feel were churning away inside; I had no idea how much longer I could keep this up. Thoughts of ‘what if’ had begun to circle my mind, screaming loudly of possibilities and hope. My inner woman was banging on the door I had locked her behind.

“Okay, no freaking out, I can do that. It’s just…” I struggled to find the words and subconsciously began tugging at the scarf that covered my head. Harper reached across the table and took my hand, no more laughing, no more jokes.

“I know what you’re thinking, Breeze. You of all people know how delicate and short life can be; I want you and I to live our lives without regrets from here on. Just promise me you won’t push me away because you’re scared. If the way you feel about me isn’t anything more than friendship then fine, I’ll deal.” He grinned across the table at me. “I might cry a little, but I’ll handle it. You have to make the most of this life, Breeze, and live every second of it like tomorrow doesn’t exist.” Once he finished talking I expelled a long breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. This was the moment where I could make that line nice, dark and irrevocably permanent. I could tell him right now that I didn’t return his feelings. I could push him away and encourage him to live his life the way it was meant to be lived—free. I could say those words but they wouldn’t mean a thing, because they would be lies and it would not only hurt me to say them but it would hurt Harper to hear them. And if anything had come from our friendship over the years was my inability to hurt Harper. So, I kept my mouth shut and gave him all I could manage in that moment, a short quick nod. Harper seemed satisfied with that as he relaxed and sat back in his chair.

Dinner was perfect and I was on my second glass of wine. I was slipping into a place of tipsy, playful joy and another drink would likely tip me right on my butt. Cancer had turned me into a lightweight. There was a time when I could hold my own with Harper and Sean. I certainly couldn’t outdrink them, but I could keep up. Not anymore, now I was a giggling, girlish mess after two glasses of wine.

When we left the restaurant I suggested we take a walk through town, the fresh air would do my tipsy body good. We came to a bar that had an open mic night on and even though I could feel Harper tense beside me, I started skipping around like a fool. For the first time I could ever remember, I was dragging Harper into a bar. The place wasn’t what you would call busy, maybe for Coffs Harbour it was, but by Gold Coast standards it was a quiet night. A group of three girls danced in inebriated glory, doing what I think was meant to be some wild version of the sprinkler. Two young guys were singing on stage—they weren’t bad, but they weren’t particularly good either. Harper’s hand possessively slipped to the small of my back and I’m sure his hand print was scorched into my skin permanently. We grabbed two beers and found an empty table near the stage. While my feet were tapping with anticipation, Harper was trying to slip under the radar. A few people had recognized him but so far were keeping their distance. A guitar sat on the table beside us and Harper casually leant over and introduced himself to the man and woman who sat watching the entertainment. After some laughter and a few words, the man handed over his guitar to Harper. I shook my head in disbelief as he handed it to me.

“Shane here has finished for the night and he said you’re more than welcome to use his guitar if you want.”

“Just like that?” I snapped my fingers.

“Hey, if third world ranking didn’t come with a few perks, I would have quit by now.” I took the guitar gingerly. It wasn’t a Maton Messiah but it was still a nice guitar and it was perfectly in tune. An idea began to brew in my mind and I eyed Harper with intrigue. He’d had a few drinks and he looked compliant enough.

“What?” he asked with his beer poised at his lips.

“Sing with me?”

“Nu-huh. No way,” he answered defiantly.

“Harper,” I whined. “You want me to live outside the box, be all that I can be, live each day like there is no tomorrow. Well, buddy, it’s a two-way street.” That got him. I knew it had because he was speechless.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He grinned and as usual when this look consumed his far too handsome face, I groaned. “I will sing with you tonight, if you let me teach you to surf.” Now I was mortified. I looked over the small crowd and wondered if it was really worth it. “Living outside the box, baby, remember?”  Smug asshat!

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