Reveal (A Wild Nights Novel) (10 page)

“Actually, Elmer, The Sydney Harbour Bridge is slightly taller than The Tower of Terror II.”

She huffed. “You’re not helping, Dimps.”

I linked my arm with hers and skipped us toward the steps of the entry booths. “If you don’t want to go up the tower, you don’t have to. You can go on The Claw instead.”

“What? No! I’m not going on that either.”

“Sure you are.”

“Um … no, I’m not.”

I stopped our skipping. “Then what are you going on?”

“Do they have a teacup ride?”

My eyeballs basically rolled full circle. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she replied, her smile sweeter than honey.

“Well, for your information, yes, they do. A Dorothy The Fucking Dinosaur Rosy Teacups Ride.”

Cori re-linked our arms and guided me up the steps. “Excellent!” She then giggled, just like the stupid dinosaur on The Wiggles show did.

“I’m at least going to get you on the Log Ride.”

“What’s that?”

Before I could answer, Josh suspended Cori in his arms. “It’s where you get wet.”

“Really?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, a playful smile painting her face.

Josh leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, and I smiled. They really did look cute together.

“So what you’re saying,” she said, pulling away from him, “is that I’ll ride a log and get nice and wet?”

He nodded and sought her lips again. “Yes.”

“Okay, I’m in.”

The warmth of two hands settled on my hips then the light press of a chin into my shoulder. “Do you want to ride a log and get wet, too?” Brad whispered in my ear.

My sexting experience automatically kicked in, and I replied like I would when working. “What if I’m already wet?”

He swallowed. “There’s nothing wrong with getting wetter.”

“No, there isn’t. The wetter the better.” I turned in his arms and rested the palms of my hands on his chest. “Do you want to get wet with me?”

“Shit yeah.” His hands found the backs of my thighs and he picked me up. I laughed, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me to the ticket booth before placing me back down again.

After we’d bought our tickets and entered the park, Noah, Chief and Dimps led the way, directing us straight to The Claw. I’d been on it before so knew what to expect when the thirty-two-seater ring swung like a pendulum roughly ten storeys into the air.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, clutching my harness and laughing as we swung back toward the ground.

Brad was seated next to me, his big legs flailing with the G-force of the ride. “You okay, sexy pixie?” he shouted.

“Yeah,” I shouted back. “You?”

“Never better.”

We swooshed past the ground, and I could see Cori sitting on a bench seat, her enormous black camera pressed to her face. I let go and waved. “Coriiiiiiii!”

She released one hand from the camera and waved back, but the ring rotated and I lost sight of her as we elevated toward the sky again. “Shiiiiiit!”

My stomach practically jumped out of my mouth, but not in a vomit kind of way. It was more of a stomachs-need-seatbelts kind of way. So I pressed my lips together, which was useless, because, as we hurtled back down, my mouth opened wide again, my smile, uncontrollable.

The motion of the ride began to slow, and we swung a few short times before it halted once more. My body tingled. The adrenalin felt amazing. “Come on, let’s do the Tower of Terror II next,” I exclaimed, grabbing Brad’s hand as our harnesses rose above our heads, freeing us from the ride.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You’re quite the adrenalin junkie, aren’t you?”

“Maybe just a little.” I rested my hand on his arse, and my fingers sighed in thanks.

“I’d say a lot. Look at you; you’re bouncing like that tiger in
Winnie The Pooh
.”

I waggled my eyes and let go of him, bouncing toward Cori. “Let’s go. Time to reach new heights.”

“What new heights?” she asked defensively.

I took hold of her hands and pulled her up. “New and exciting heights.”

“If you’re talking about that tower of death thing, forget it. Not gonna happen.”

I was about to plea, or bribe—whatever came out of my mouth first—when Josh began to
bok
like a chicken.

“Bok, bok, bok.”

Was this guy an animal in another life or something? First the dolphin, and now the chicken.

Cori let go of my hands and pointed her finger at him. “No! You stop that! It’s not going to work this time,” she warned.

“You sure ’bout that, sweetheart?” The cocky look on his face was impressive. Josh wore confidence really well.

“Yes! I don’t care if you proposition me for sex anymore. I’m happy to have it with you.”

Clearly, they were referring to something that had happened previously. Something I wasn’t yet privy to. Regardless, I could see that Josh’s bokking was getting under her skin. It was excellent, so I started bokking, too.

“Bok, bok, bok.”

Damn, I’m such a bad BFF.

She turned in my direction, her mouth ajar. “Seriously?”

I nodded and added actions to my bokking, hands pressed into my armpits, arms flapping my newly formed chicken wings.

“The answer is still no,” she responded resolutely, crossing her arms over her chest.

More bokking ensued when Brad, Noah, Dimps, and even Chief chimed in.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Cori stood up and stomped off, so we followed her, continuing to bok.

“Shut up, you idiots. You look ridiculous. Everybody is staring at you.”

She was right. They were. It was brilliant. It was also adding to our childish peer pressure, and that was totally a good thing.

I grabbed her hands again and held them between us. “Come on, Cor.
Bok.
It will be fun.
Bok.
Do it for me.” Yeah, that last bit was below the belt, but I really wanted her to continue with the newfound courage she seemed to be showing signs of since meeting Josh. It was good for her. She was finally taking control of her personal life again since leaving her arsehole ex.

“That’s not fair, Em.”

“I know. But life’s not fair. And neither are periods. Yet we get them, and we endure them. We suffer their rage within our body and we embrace it. Why?” I asked, squeezing her hands for dramatic effect.

The bokking ceased.
Great theatrical timing, boys. Perfect.

I continued. “Because we are woman, and we bleed. We bleed, and we rule the fucking world.”

“This is not the time for one of your revolutions, Em.”

Fuck it. Why not?
“Please?” I begged, dropping to my knees.

“Noooooo.”

“PLEEEEEASE?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you need me to.”

Her eyes snapped wider and she paused.

I paused, too.

“I hate you, Emily Davis.”

“Oh my God! Is that a yes?”

Silence.

Chirping crickets.

“Ugh!”

I squealed and wrapped my arms around her. “It’s a YES!”

Anticipation could be a wonderful, exciting thing. It could conjure joy, rapture, and overwhelming exhilaration. Yet it could also fill your entire being with dread, to the point of being unsure as to whether or not you’d pissed or shat your pants, or perhaps both simultaneously.

Cori’s anticipation, as she sat harnessed next to me at the very front of the Tower of Terror II cart, mirrored the latter of the two.

Yep. Definitely the latter.

“I more than hate you, Em. In fact, I hate all of you. If I die on this thing, know that I hated you all,” she shouted, pulling on her belts.

Josh squeezed her leg. “You don’t hate me, right?” He was seated to her left, at the very end of our front row.

“Oh, yeah I do. I hate you baaaaad.” The low, growling rumble in her throat actually sounded scary.

Brad, who was seated next to me at the opposite end of our row, leaned forward, as far as his harness would let him, which wasn’t far at all. “Remember to sing the Oompa Loompa song, Cor.”

“Fuck the Oompa Loompa song,” she spat. “No group of singing, little orange people are gonna help me now.”

I turned my head to look at her and then at Brad. “Why the Oompa Loompa song?”

“Why not?” Brad replied.

Cori huffed and continued to pull at her harness. “Because it’s what Brad hummed to help me with my fear of heights last ti—”

The lights went out, ceasing her words, and darkness descended upon us. It was freakish and awesomely eerie.

“What’s happening? Why’s it dark?” Cori asked, her squeaky voice panicked.

Suddenly, red flashing lights lit up the tunnel we were stationed in, and a horrid, raspy noise built with intensity as each second passed.

“What’s that noise? Is that bad? What the—”

The flashing lights stopped and it went dark again, then a recorded voice began counting down from three—the raspy noise now even louder than before.

“Three …”

“Here we go!” I yelled, gripping my harness tightly in preparation for what was to come.

“Two …”

“No, no, no, no,
no
.”

“One …”

“I want to get offfff OHMYGOD!”

We accelerated profusely, my back pressing firmly into my seat, the breeze in the tunnel whipping by my head. My cheeks pretty much slid from my face, and a distant light grew bigger and bigger until it was all around us and we were free from the tunnel.

Light.

So much light.

The change of scenery was almost disorientating, especially because the raspy noise heard moments ago in the tunnel had been replaced by Cori’s bloodcurdling scream, the loudest I’d ever born witness to. It was tumultuous. Unwavering. And I swear more ear-shattering than the Krakatoa volcano.

“Arghhhhhhhhhh! I hate yoooooou.”

We hurtled at a God-awful speed toward the base of the tower, soon soaring into the sky until we slowed to a stop, suspended vertically as the feeling of weightlessness took hold.

“I’m dead. I’m floating. I’m really dead,” Cori bellowed.

Awkwardly, against the force of gravity, I turned my head to look at her and laughed. “Open your eyes. You’re not deaaaaaaaaad!”

We free-fell backward one hundred metres, our screams following not far behind us. My stomach vanished, dropped into oblivion, and my feet and legs developed a perfect ninety-degree angle to my body before the cart descended into darkness and halted to a complete stop again.

Annnnnd … we were done.

Finished.

It was over.

In less than ten seconds.

“Oooooohhhhhmyyyyyyygod! Ooooohhhhmyyyyyygod!” Cori howled.

Pure shock saturated her cries, and if it wasn’t so hilarious I’d be sympathetic to her traumatised state. But I couldn’t be, because I couldn’t remove the stupid grin from my face. The entire ride had been sheer excellence, and having experienced with it my acrophobic best friend was … well … it was even better.

“That was awesome!” I sang.

“Oooooohhhhhmyyyyyygod!”

“Cori, you did it!”

“Oooooohhhhhmyyyyyygod!”

“Shat my pants, I just. Lying, I am not,” Noah said from behind us as the cart’s harnesses lifted above all of our heads.

I cracked up laughing and turned around to find him jiggling his shorts for added effect. Dimps and Chief were either side of him, and funnily enough, they both laughed as well. Even Cori finally laughed, albeit a weird I-think-I’m-really-dead type of laugh. I was so proud of her. So, so proud. I was also suddenly fearful for my life. The reality of what I’d just forced her to do set in, and I knew she would never let me forget it.
Shit-fuck. I will have to get my sucky-sucky bestest friend game on to make it up to her.
And I would, because she deserved it.

“Cori, you rock. You’re the coolest chick ev—” I cut myself off when I looked over at her and noticed that Josh had helped her out of the cart and was now rewarding her bravery with a method of his own. A method that involved tongue. A method I wouldn’t be using.

Smiling to myself, I started to disembark when Brad offered me his hand then pulled me to him, grabbing my face and giving me the tongue method as well.

I fell into him, into the kiss. And for a few seconds, I was lost in everything that was him—his unique scent, his warmth, his strength … the way he stole little moments from me before I’d even had the chance to fathom he was actually stealing them. The man was seriously a grand larcenist. Which was okay, because his thievery always left me feeling giddy.

“What next?” Dimps called out, breaking our kiss.

Our lips separated, but our eyes remained one. They spoke of ease with one another, of comfort and mutual enjoyment. With wide effervescence, they conveyed that we both very much enjoyed each other’s company. But this time as we pulled apart, his eyes also held a softness that tenderly caressed my face as he searched my features. I’d never seen such a look before in any man’s eyes. It was nice.

It was unchartered territory.

Smiling somewhat timidly, I offered a suggestion to Dimps’s question. “How ’bout the Flowrider? I want to see ‘Surfer Brad’ in action.”

Brad trailed his finger down the side of my face, and I swear my eyes nearly closed at the beauty of it.
Oh, holy hell. What is this guy doing to me?

“You think you’re up for my action?”

I held his stare, even though my lids felt heavily weighted with bliss, and made sure that my next three words penetrated his every layer. “Without. A. Doubt.”

***

Mayday. Mayday. Doubt is here. I repeat. Doubt is here!

Clearly, I’d lied. Because the doubt I’d sworn to Brad I was without had just popped into my head and made itself comfortable. Yep. It sat its doubty arse down and put its doubty feet up while eating pizza and drinking Pepsi. And while it was there, it spread its doubty-doubtness to my now fidgety, sweaty palms, my thudding heart, bulging eyes, parched mouth, and wet, ravished vagina. So yeah, I’d admit I hadn’t been ‘without a doubt up for his action’, because his action was incredibly … active.

His action drove me crazy.

“You can blink, you know?” Cori said.

I turned my head toward her, but my eyes never left the surfing sexpot in front of me. “I know. I don’t want to blink. I’m happy to never blink again.”

The two of us were sat on a patch of grass under the shade of a small tree, mere metres from the ride. Josh and Chief were standing by the railing, cheering Brad on, and Noah and Dimps were nowhere to be seen after meeting a couple of girls at the food hut.

“You like him, don’t you?”

I scanned his body again for the zillionth time—his lean, muscled, suntanned, lickable god-like body. “Of course I like him. What’s not to like?”

“No. I mean you
like
him like him, don’t you?”

“Like him like him? As in ‘
like
-like’ him?”

“Em!” Cori snapped. “Eyes on me, and stop playing word games.”

I gave her my full attention, even though I was more than enjoying the hot body zipping around on The Flowrider before me. “Yes, I like him. I like him a lot. I like him enough to rub my tongue against his tongue. Happy?”

“Sure. But do you like him enough to stop rubbing your tongue against anyone else’s tongue?”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“Cori, what are you up to?”

“Nothing. I can just see that the two of you are getting on like a house on fire. That’s all.”

“Yeah, we are. So?” I pursed my lips, my gaze still narrowed before directing my attention back to Brad. He was still surfing the makeshift wave machine, his control of the board perfection. You could tell by the way he manoeuvred himself along the rapids of water as they propelled toward him that he was a naturally gifted surfer. He just flowed with ease from one side of the ride to the other, spinning and twisting, swirling and curving.

His muscles were taut, strong—his concentration, fixed and unbreakable. The guy just looked so damn comfortable … and did I mention fucking hot? Seriously, when a man was confidently focussed on a task, he was sexy as hell.

“Aaaand, you can’t keep your eyes off of him,” she added.

“Is that so?” I proved her wrong and directed my gaze to meet hers.

She nodded and smiled.
Grr.

Cori was a stubborn little bitch-head at the best of times, but I loved her, regardless. Still, I glared at her pretty, smug face then shifted my focus back to Brad. “Really, what are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything. I’m just saying that you and Brad seem to be close considering the short amount of time you’ve known each other. That’s not something you should ignore.”

“I’m not ignoring it, hon. I’m having fun with it. We both are.”

She lifted her camera to her face and took a photo of Brad, his board tucked under his arm as he stepped off the ride. It was also the precise moment he flicked his hair back with his hand, the epitome of holy-fuck-my-vagina-just-exploded.

I whacked her on the arm, almost desperately. “Please tell me you got that on camera?”

“Got what?”

“That pic.”

“What pic?”

“That pic of him flicking his hair like the sexiest fucker alive.”

“You mean this pic?” she asked, teasingly. Cori leaned over and showed me her LCD screen.

Yes. Yes, I do.
“Uh-huh, that’s the one.” I smiled.

She smiled

I nearly squirted.

She probably didn’t.

And we both cracked up laughing.

***

After dinner, our small group headed to the beach for the hotel’s weekly bonfire event. People were everywhere, all of us scattered around the many flame pits dotting the privately owned section of sand. A hum of conversation in the cool night air often broke with sporadic bursts of boisterous laughter, and the ocean’s breeze danced playfully around us, hues of orange flickering in our eyes when flames illuminated and reached for the star-sprinkled sky up above. It was nice, warm, especially from my nestled position in between Brad’s legs.

“Great idea to bring the marshmallows,” I said to Dimps, while sliding a puffy pink pillow of yumminess onto my stick.

Brad threaded his marshmallow on behind mine “Yeah, but where’d all these sticks come from?”

“Break them from a tree, I did.” Noah smiled proudly before removing his own melted, gooey treat from the stick he was holding.

“You just broke them from the hotel trees?” Cori whisper-asked, craning her neck like a peacock while trying to hide her stick under her leg.

Noah nodded.

“You can’t do that!”

“I can, yes.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Too late, it is. Eat, you shall.”

I subdued a laugh, leaned back, and whispered to Brad, “How the hell did you put up with that Yoda-talk as a kid?”