Fragments (31 page)

My head throbs still, and I’m scrubbing my face and washing my hair while I replay Bea’s dancing last night. I can’t stop the groan that escapes my lips. I’m instantly hard and I can’t get her eyes, her hips, her lips out of my mind.

This is what I get for making a monumental mistake. I’m harder with that image than I was

with Mindi. With one turn, I could cut the shower door in half. Without too much thought, my hand begins to stroke up and down, gripping the base as I surrender to the sensations. I see her eyes, and my grip tightens. I see myself walking over to her, standing in front of her, looking down and running my fingers along the deep
V
that has her breasts encased. My breath hitches as my strokes increase, gripping and sliding up and down. I know what lies under that dress and I want to lick it and claim every inch until we are no longer separate entities. Before my fantasy goes any further, I feel my balls tighten from my strokes and I open my eyes and hiss, staring down, watching my orgasm coarse through me. I put my other fist in my mouth to muffle the moan. I lean my head against the shower wall and let the water cascade down, washing the remnants of my guilty thoughts away.

Once I recover, I turn the shower taps off and step out to dry myself. Normally I would dress in my room, but I can’t risk either girl thinking that I am interested in another round. I get ready quickly and throw my other gear in the hamper.

Opening the door, I hear voices out the front and see Bea saying bye to Leon. She stands by the door while he is out on the doorstep. They don’t seem too intimate, but who knows?

I try not to look at Leon. I know that if he gives me a smug look that I will rearrange his face. Bea catches my movement and turns to me in that sexy-as-hell green nightie. Yep. Karma is a bitch, and she is laughing while cattle prodding my balls. 

Bea mutters a quick, “Morning,” and continues talking to dickface.

I head to the kitchen to put on the coffee pot. I don’t want to go back into my room. As the coffee boils, I put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. My stomach isn’t up to a full breakfast. As I’m throwing back the painkillers, I hear footsteps approaching.

In a soft voice she says, “Is there enough coffee in that percolator, or should I put on another one?”

Well, at least she is talking to me again.

“Definitely. I am using the big one.”

The whistle of the coffee surging up gives me something to do so I cannot be tempted to look at her. I won’t be able to handle the freshly-screwed face; it will only make me hurt more. The toast springs up, and I butter it quickly.

“Alex.” She taps my shoulder, and I turn around. Her hair is mussed but her face is normal. “You, um … want to go for a run?”

I am momentarily speechless. She is still staring at me when I remember to answer. “Yeah, when?”

She opens her mouth to answer when I hear very loud giggling coming from my bedroom as the door opens.

“Alex, how did my G-string end up on the ceiling fan? Man, you fuck like an animal.”

I cringe at Mindi’s words. I look over to Bea, who now has a coffee cup in her hand.

“I’m just gonna take this to my room.”

Before I can stop her, she power walks away, narrowly missing colliding with the skank.  Mindi shrugs as if it’s no big deal and her eyes light up when she sees me.

“Alex …” croons Mindi. “I woke up alone without you.”

I feel a dry heave coming on as I watch Mindi attempt to flutter her eyelids at me. Even without this hangover, I wouldn’t be interested. We have danced this dance before and she should remember I don’t go back in the morning. I don’t usually even allow it to happen again. Ty is a dead man after all those shots. If I weren’t so cut up over my stupid feelings about Bea, I wouldn’t have gone there again. Being led by your dick while three sheets to the wind will land you in deep regret.

              Staring at this annoyance, I start to get her into gear. “Mindi, I have to head out, so if you can leave now, I’d really appreciate it.”

This time, she pipes up with, “What the hell? No encore? This is bullshit, Alex.”

I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. “The answer’s no. If you want a shower, by all means there are towels in the linen cabinet over there, but for now, whatever gets you out quicker would be appreciated.”

She stands there with smeared make-up and tornado hair, her hands on her hips and her mouth agape. I point to the bathroom and take my coffee cup and plate of toast and head to the lounge room, hoping that she will take the hint. After calling me a few “choice” words, she heads to the shower. Not too long after, she emerges in the lounge room, glaring at me.

“So, last night was just another one-nighter? So you’re gonna treat me like a whore
again
?” Mindi snaps.
Oh, is that what this is?
I put my coffee cup down and glare at her.

“See, Mindi, here’s the thing. You approached
me
and you whispered sordid shit into
my
ear.

Not only was I drunk, I was very drunk. Do not play the victim card here when, A) it was consensual, and B) you blew me in the cab in the first minute.”

She gasps and death stares at me.

“Fuck you, Alex!” she hisses and turns, stomping out my front door.

I heave a sigh of relief that is only momentarily soothing, until I remember that Bea is in her room and probably heard that conversation. Yep, I’m a dick.

Huffing out my frustrations, I head to her door and knock.

“Bea, um … it’s me, Alex.”
You moron jockey. Who else is it going to be?
“Can I come in?”

I hear faint rustling, followed by an, “Okay.”

I don’t hesitate to open the door. Bea is stretched out on a yoga mat on her bedroom floor. Super tight leggings and a tight tank cover her body like a second skin. I am officially in hell, again. Well played, karma, well played. While she is positioned on the floor, she curves her back tilting her face towards the ceiling. After a few moments, she flicks her gaze and looks at me.

“You wanted?” Her voice is distant and cold. Yep, time to start digging up and out of hell.

“I just wanted to see if you still wanted to go for a run? I wouldn’t mind jogging this hangover out of me.”

Her eyebrow quirks as her lips tighten in a grimace. She replies, “Oh, that girl didn’t help you with that?”

I ignore her as I continue. “I can show you the track I use. It’s pretty safe but still, I wouldn’t jog around by yourself. I’m happy to go whenever and however often you want.” Pointing my thumb over my shoulder, I say, “Just going to have a quick freshen up and then we can go if you want?”

She is still in that downward dog position and holding my gaze. “Look, I’ll just chill here. I don’t really feel like it anymore.”  She brings her hands back and folds her body in half before rolling it up. 

I need to fix this. I straighten my shoulders and look at her directly. “Look, Bea, I’m sorry about being a dick about your dress last night. You looked amazing and I was just worried that—”

“That what, Alex? I’d whore myself out?” she slams at me.

“No, not at all, I was worried about the other guys.”

“I already have a brother, I don’t need two,” she snaps. I try really hard not to laugh, as that’s the last way that I would ever feel for her. 

“Bea-Bea, you have never been that to me. A friend, yes. A sister? Fuck no.”

“Oh, well, whatever. Anyway, I’ve got some stuff to do, so if you could just …” she says, flicking her fingers towards the door. I feel the sting of rejection but stand firm.

“Bea, I meant what I said about being friends. Can we try, please?” I beg.

She rolls her shoulders and tilts her head from side to side, staring at me for a long moment. I can’t read her expression, but I desperately stare back.

“Yeah, why not?” she softly concedes.
“Look,” I gesture with my hands in front, “I had a lot going on in my head and that girl—” I

watch her flinch, but I keep moving on, “—was a mistake. A stupid, drunken mistake. It was not a nice thing to do considering you’d just moved in. I can’t begin to fathom how shit that would have looked.”

She nods and doesn’t look as upset.

“How about we skip the run today, but maybe head on out tomorrow?” she asks.

I smile, feeling relieved. “Sounds like a plan.”

*              *              *              *              *

              “I can’t believe you’re trying to outrun me on my own track!” I laugh, running in front of Bea as she tries to overtake me. She had woken before I did and bashed on my door, threatening to throw water on me. Now here we are, running along the track, and I have been laughing most of the way. 

“You said the loser gets breakfast, and I don’t want eggs. We’re near Brunswick Street, and I want cake from Babka’s!”

It was great that Bea didn’t care too much about what she ate when she was a teenager and even now, considering she was a dancer, I was glad that she didn’t give a shit about it either. 

“Dream on, Twinkle Toes, I’m going to make you eat a greasy breakfast!”

She continues jogging alongside me and nudges me with her elbow. “Like I’d mind that either.” She winks as we continue jogging at an even pace along the track until we reach the main road. Today feels like it did years and years ago. Despite my heavy breathing, my chest feels lighter, and I see it in her face, too. We were slowly getting “us” back. She just didn’t realise what that meant in the long run. But soon she would.

              We arrive shortly at the café on the corner and decide that we are too hungry to run another ten minutes for cake. Instead, we are lured in by the smells of a delicious hot breakfast.   Neither of us has broken into a sweat, so at least we aren’t going to stink out the café. We take a seat facing the window on the large window seat that faces back onto the road. From here, we can people watch and continue chatting.

“So,” Bea begins, “How’s Lily doing? I saw her briefly yesterday at the mechanic’s, but that’s it.”

I take a sip of my orange juice before answering. “Yeah, she’s good. We catch up for monthly dinners around town. She’s teaching at one of those rough western suburb schools, so it’s good to get her out.”

              “Does she like teaching?”

              “Yeah, I think so. Her workmates told me that she’s tough in the classroom, though. Would never have thought that.”

              “You sound closer now, it’s good.” She adjusts her hair tie and I watch her run her fingers through her ponytail.

              “Yeah, since Dad died, we’ve been making an effort. Feels nice to have some close family. Mum is still vapid.” I pick up the saltshaker to keep my hand busy.

              “Sorry to hear that.”
              “Don’t be, I’m used to it. Lily has a boyfriend, too, a complete boring-ass accountant. He’s her ‘safe’, as she tells me. Good old Dad left quite an impression.” I nod tightly, flicking the saltshaker in my hand. 

“Well,” Bea intercepts my thoughts, “tell her that I’d love to see her again. Maybe we could have her around for dinner? I can cook.” 

I smile at her and nod.  The thought of Bea cooking for my sister warms me and gives credence to the possibility that someday it could be a permanent thing.

We continue the light chatter while delving into our eggs and bacon. This is the most relaxed that I have seen Bea since moving in, especially after my dick move Friday night. Watching her smile wide while she speaks about her friends and the latest dance that she can’t wait to conquer, all the while consciously tapping my shoulder or nudging my elbow, makes me feel like I am in the right place, shitty thoughts of my father be damned. Clinging to that hope allows me to think that I am worthy of her, and I hope that it will remain that way.

              As we finish up our meals, I look out front and see that it has begun to rain. As is typical in Melbourne, four seasons are likely to strike throughout any given day. For me, though, the rain feels soothing. I wonder if Bea has fond memories of when it rains? Does the gentle tapping of raindrops lull her into the memory of us together? Does the smell of rain remind her of me? Or does she just think,
oh, yeah … it’s raining.

I tilt my head towards her and see her gaze longingly at the wet cement.
Wow. She remembers?
I’m about to tap her shoulder when her eyes turn to meet with mine with such emotion and such longing that it takes my breath away. I can feel the gentle twitch of a smile form on my face, while her chest heaves up and down. She
does
remember. I look at her eyes then trail my gaze down to her lips, and watch as she rolls her bottom lip in her teeth. A need so fierce lights up my chest and I begin to lean forward to claim those lips. She lets go of her bottom lip in a gentle
puff
as I inch forward. I have barely shifted when a large arm is suddenly in front of my face.

“Oh! Excuse me,” the waitress appears. “I’m just going to collect these dishes.”

Bea snaps back into a stiff pose, while I can’t hide looking unimpressed at the waitress. She gathers our plates and glasses and then stands straight, looking at both of us,