Reveal (A Wild Nights Novel) (21 page)

Cori: I didn’t expect this. This is horrible.

Worse than horrible.

This is horrible piggybacking terrible.

No, this is horrible piggybacking terrible,

riding horrific while holding hands with horrendous.

Em: So basically, you’re fucked.

Cori: Yes. I can’t go tonight.

I can’t even stand without getting the shits.

Em: I have a butt plug that might help.

Brad cracked up laughing.

I looked up at him and shielded my eyes once again. “Are you reading my messages?”

“Yes. That last one was good.”

“Stop it. They’re private.”

“Not really. I can see them from here.”

I
grr
ed at him just as Cori responded.

Cori: No thanks. I’ll pass.

It’s a war zone in there.

Em: Right. We need a ceasefire.

I’ll be up shortly with supplies.

Cori: If you bring any more McDonald’s,

I’ll McFucking throw it at you.

Em: Have faith.

I’ve got it covered.

Closing my phone, I pushed to my hands and knees then stood up, turning to Brad and resting my hands on his arse cheeks. “I’m gonna have to give you a raincheck on waking my vagina. I am required for best friend duties. See you after the show?”

“I’m counting on it. And you better be ready when I get back, because you’re sleeping with me tonight.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “No PJs required.”

“Deal,” I said, smiling.

He chuckled. “Deal.”

We were good at making deals.

***

Armed with Hydralyte, Gastro-Stop, and a banana, I swiped my room key and opened the door, walking smack-bang into a wall of hangover stench. It burned my freakin’ nostrils.

“Cori, Jesus fuck! What have you given birth to?” I covered my nose with the crook of my elbow and placed my items on the small bench-top above the mini bar.

Scanning the curtain-drawn, darkened room, I found Cori sprawled out like a starfish on her bed, wearing what I assumed was one of Josh’s tank tops, and her blonde hair all kinds of matted. “Leave me alone,” she groaned.

“You need breathable air in order to sustain life, yeah? Why haven’t you opened the balcony door?”

Walking to said door, I yanked the curtain open and unlatched the lock, sliding the glass panels away from each other and allowing fresh, clean-ish Gold Coast air to relieve the sting in my nose.

“It’s too noisy with the door open.”

“Oh shut up. It is not.”

She groaned again. “You’re so mean.”

“And you’re so your own worst enemy. Now sit up and drink some of this electrolyte stuff I bought you.” I reluctantly headed back into the room and fetched her the drink. “Once you’ve stomached some of that, you can take a shit-stop tablet and eat a potassium rod.”

Cori slowly rolled to her side and sat upright, slumping like a ragdoll. “I suck.”

“Yeah, ya do.” I handed her the drink, and a small smile registered on her sickly pale face.

“You got me blackcurrant flavour?”

I nodded.

“I love you, Emily Davis.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She took a sip. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me.” Another sip. “I know it’s your last day.” Sip. “And you’re stuck in here with me.” Sip. Sip.

“I’m not angry at you because I’m stuck in this stinky hotel room. I’m concerned over how easily you drowned your sorrows because of a tiff with Josh. And apparently, it wasn’t the first time.”

“No. It was the third,” she admitted, her tone matter-of-fact.

Lowering myself to sit on the edge of the bed, I took her hand in mine. “Cor, you can’t punish yourself like this every time shit hits the fan with Josh. If anything, the shit deflects and lands right back on you.”

“I know. He’s not talking to me.”

“I thought he spent most of the day here with you?” I questioned, worried she’d been here on her own.

“Yeah, he did. He just didn’t talk to me.”

“Oh!” I scrunched my face.

“He showered me and everything, but not one word.” She sipped her drink again, this time taking in more. “He’s such a stubborn prick. It infuriates me.”

“I’m guessing you infuriate him, too.”

“Ya think?” she said, sarcastically.

“So deal with it … without getting shitfaced.”

We commenced a stare-a-thon, Cori sipping, and me … just staring.

She looked away.

I won
.

“So how was your day with Brad?”

“Good. We’re kinda a ‘thing’,” I said, casually.

“What? Really?” Either the Hydralyte or news of my sex life had put colour back in her cheeks, because they’d developed a nice tint of pink again.

“Yeah. How’d we put it … we’re doin’ it. I’m his and he’s mine.”

“I knew it! I knew the two of you would hit it off. You’re just perfect for each other.”

“Nobody is perfect, Cor,” I said, standing up and heading to the bathroom. “Least of all me.”

“Well, no. You certainly aren’t. But the two of you complement each other really well,” she called out.

“I was actually just thinking that today,” I called back, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I needed a quick shower and to get out of my bathing suit. “We do complement each other. It’s nice. But everyone has flaws, ya know? We haven’t discovered one another’s yet. Who knows what will happen when we do.”

Removing the mesh one-piece from my body, I screamed with horror. “No! Oh my God, no! No no no no nooooooo.”

“What?” Cori yelled. “Em, what’s wrong?” She came bursting into the bathroom.

I met her stare in the reflection of the mirror, our eyes wide, her hand pressed to her chest, the colour of her face back to its pasty shade of white and mine burning red with embarrassment.

“Oh. That’s not good. Did you not put sunscreen on?”

I glanced down at the geometric suntan I now sported across my midriff. “Yes. Of course I did. Fuck! I should’ve put on more.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I met her gaze again. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“Mine? Why? I’ve been sick in my room all day. How’s it my fault?”

“You told me to get this stupid swimsuit, and now I look like a fucking human Art Deco piece.”

Cori burst into laughter and covered her mouth.

“Oh, I’m glad you find it funny. I’m also glad you’re feeling better.”

“Come on, it is a little funny. And at least now Brad can see one of your flaws sooner rather than later.”

“Oh shit! I’m staying with him tonight.”

She bit her lip and shrugged. “Looks like it’s lights out for the two of you then.”

Yes, it does.

***

Cori and I had spent the evening watching
Pitch Perfect
and
Pitch Perfect 2
. She’d fallen asleep just before midnight, so I’d taken the opportunity to log into the SexyTexts interface to get a couple of hours’ work done. I hadn’t been able to sneak in much sexting while visiting Cori, due to barely having any time alone, so I used the impromptu opportunity given to me and hit it hard, answering as many texts as briefly as I possibly could, because that was how professional sexting worked—except the trick was to answer in a way that had them asking for more. The more they asked, the more I could deliver. The more I delivered, the more I got paid. It was as simple at that.

Yet it wasn’t that simple.

Brad and Josh had knocked on our door just after midnight, which was timed perfectly, as I’d not long logged off. The exchange between us had been quick, Josh wanting sleep and Brad wanting me back in his room faster than I could blink.

“Get that sexy little arse of yours inside,” he said, happily opening the door to his room.

I raised an eyebrow and sashayed past, copping a harsh but delightful slap on my butt.

“Hey,” I objected, but was stopped when soft hands found the skin of my hips, and the wall behind met my back and my fingertips.

Brad’s firm, demanding body encased me and held me tight, his lips crashing onto mine and stealing not only my breath but also my ability to function.
Wow! Where am I? Who am I? And what am I doing?

He was a magician—that was what he was. His mouth and hands and what he could do with them, a spell cast upon me. He left me delirious, tranced, and putty in his hands.

The man fucking abracadabra’d me.

“Been thinkin’ ’bout you and that pretty little arse and pussy all night long,” he said, pulling back and resting his forehead against mine, his dirty words touching every part of my aching body.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I smiled leisurely. “And what were your thoughts?”

“Fuck the thoughts. Let me show you.” His mouth moved to my neck and devoured that sweet spot just above my collarbone.

I cried out. My eyes rolled back, and everything went black.

Black, but bursting with light.

The feeling of uncertainty when it settled deep within your chest was about as comfortable as a pair of undies three sizes too small. Constrictive. Tight. Cutting off air, or blood, or your will to live.
Okay, maybe not that severe.
But there was no denying it was pretty fucking uncomfortable, and couple it with an overwhelming sense of possible finality, the dread over ‘what next?’ was near excruciating.

“I wish you didn’t have to go back home,” Cori whined, hugging me tight as we stood at my departure gate. “I’ve enjoyed having another vagina in this cock-forest I walk in.”

“Stop complaining. It’s a good, wholesome cock-forest, containing only cocks of the highest quality. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

She giggled into my shoulder and whispered, “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Lay off the alcohol. If you have to, use it to tip over his head or something.”

“I will. Or to set the fucker on fire.”

“Cori!” I pulled back and playfully hit her on the arm.

“Kidding. He’s too good in bed to want to damage like that.”

“Who are you, and where has my best friend gone?”

“She’s still here. She’s just … a little different.”

“You can say that again.”

“I’m fine. Now go, or you’ll miss your plane.”

I gave her another quick squeeze and let go.

“Safe flight, Em,” Josh said, stepping up to us and pulling Cori to his side before giving me an awkward smile.

I wrapped one arm around his neck and hugged him, also using the opportunity to leave him with a friendly parting message within a message. “Thanks, Josh, I will,” I said, changing my voice to a hushed whisper. “Oh, and look after her, or I’ll hunt you down and rip you a fucking new one.” I pulled back, smiling sweetly. “Okay! It was lovely meeting you.”

The poor guy looked as if he’d been slapped with a seal, so I winked, adding to my psycho-best-friend charade, which wasn’t really a charade, but kinda was.
Yes, I’m evil.

Turning to face Brad, I dropped my bag on the floor by our feet when he placed his hands on either side of my face, his eyes scanning mine somewhat sadly. I furrowed my brow and went to ask him what was wrong, but he kissed me and stole my words before I’d the chance to use them.

There was a mild desperation to his kiss, but not the type we’d been accustomed to since hooking up. No. This time, it was a kiss laced with goodbye, a kiss that begged
don’t go
. And that uncertain, undies-too-small feeling from moments ago eased up a little.

“I’m gonna fucking miss you,” he said, holding my face a little firmer.

I searched his tortured eyes. “I’ll miss you, too. But we can call, text, and even video chat. It won’t be that bad.”

“Can I taste, feel, or smell you using any of those methods?”

I shook my head and tried to look down but his firm grip wouldn’t allow it.

“Then yeah, it’s gonna be that bad. Two months, Em. Two. Fucking. Months.”

Lifting my hands, I placed them on the collar of his polo shirt, fixing its placement. “It doesn’t have to be that long. Cori mentioned last night that the revue is due to have another short break when you get to Darwin in four weeks’ time. Didn’t you, Cori?” I turned toward her, fighting Brad’s hold on my face.

“Yeah. I’m flying back to Melbourne—”

“You are?” Josh asked, clearly unaware of her plans.

“Yeah. Had you been talking to me this morning, I would’ve mentioned it to you.”

He glared, and so did she, but she continued, “Anyway, Josh, if you’ve forgiven me by then, I was going to see if you wanted to fly back with me.”

I turned back to Brad, leaving Cori and Josh to discuss their shit. “Maybe you could come visit as well … if you want to?”

His eyes shot up to his right, as if to assess the information I’d just given him, and his perfect lips pouted minutely. I wanted to kiss them again. Then I wanted to lick his freckle and eye crinkle and—

Nodding to himself, his pout morphed into one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen before he answered, “Deal.”

I burst into laughter and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Deal. See you in four weeks.”

***

My flight home and taxi from the airport took just less than two hours. And although I missed Cori and Brad so much already, there was nothing like coming home, nothing like opening the front door and smelling the subtleness of stale air.

It was very … er … welcoming.

Walking along the hallway to my bedroom dotted with photographs of local landmarks that Cori had taken, my flip-flops slapped over the polished hardwood floors, echoing throughout the apartment. There was no such thing as silence at our place. In fact, there was no such thing as silence in our apartment building. You could hear everything. And I meant everything.

Mrs Lockwood from unit seven lived above us, and when she was doing her daily aerobics routine, the pictures on the wall got a workout as well. One had even jumped off with enthusiasm, it was so excited.

And then there was Mr and Mrs Brown from unit three who lived below us. They were elderly and had an extra-loud telephone ringtone. And I meant
extra
loud. The first time I’d heard it, I’d thought it was the local fire-brigade siren. Other than that, there was the echo of Henry’s scooter as he left for work, apartment doors slamming, and the ding of the elevator, which was just outside our door.

Turning into my room, I pushed both of my suitcases into the corner and flopped onto my bed, taking out my phone and noticing messages from Brad, H, Mary from work, and Cori. I clicked on Mary’s first.

Mary: You back yet?

Looks like the legal shit is getting sorted out.

We should be back on stage in a couple of weeks.

It was the best news ever. Just what I needed to hear.

Em: Literally just walked in the door.

That’s great news. Rehearsals still on Monday?

Mary: Welcome back.

Yep. Sure are. See you then.

Next, I opened Cori’s message.

Cori: COME BACK!

Hope your flight was good.

Oh, and thought you might like this.

I scrolled down to find that she’d attached the photo of Brad, the one she took at Dreamworld when he’d stepped off the Flowrider and performed his sexy flick-of-the-hair manoeuvre.

I smiled.

My vagina smiled.

My vagina remembered he was miles away.

My vagina pouted.

I pouted.

But damn he looked fine. Really freakin’ fine. Fine with a capital lick of my lips.
Mm … his tasty chest and delectable cock and—ugh!
It was going to be a long four weeks.

Pressing ‘save image to phone’, I sent it to my photos folder and then assigned it to his profile before responding to Cori.

Em: I LOVE you.

I LOVE LOVE you.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE you.

She replied instantly.

Cori: Did you drink on the plane?

High altitudes and alcohol are not good, ya know?

Actually, they’re freakin’ awesome.

Good on you.

I laugh-snorted.

Em: You’re such a pisshead.

How’s my Brad? Has he moved on yet?

Rolling off the bed and to my feet, I headed into our kitchen, a quaint space albeit newly refurbished with modern décor: white walls and cabinets, grey Caesarstone bench-tops, and modern appliances. And like the rest of our little home, Cori and I loved it. It was perfect for the two us.

Opening the fridge, I scrunched my nose when I realised we had no fresh food.
Crap!
I’d have to head to the grocery store down the road before it got too dark. I didn’t like walking the streets of St Kilda alone after sunset. It wasn’t safe. Not for a young woman such as myself.

I groaned. The sound of Brad’s message tone instantly distracted me from my pending food dash, so I opened it.

Brad: Your Brad is missing you.

And no, he hasn’t moved on.

Cori, you little blabbing bitch-face.

I felt she deserved a message before I replied to Brad.

Em: Blabbermouth.

I pressed send and then responded to Brad.

Em: I miss you, too.

And I should hope you haven’t moved on.

At least give it twenty-four hours, yeah?

He responded instantly.

Brad: You’re kidding, right?

To be honest, I wasn’t sure. Of course I didn’t want him to move on, but I couldn’t honestly say that I thought he wouldn’t at some stage.

About to respond, he beat me to it.

Brad: Please tell me you’re fucking kidding.

Em: Hey! Calm your farm.

Okay, I was kidding.

But I want you to know

that if the distance thing

becomes too hard for you,

I’ll understand.

Brad: Seriously, pixie, if you were here,

I’d fucking spank your arse right now.

And what’s ‘my farm’?

The skin of my arse tingled at the thought of him marking it.

Em: Ha! Too bad for you,

and lucky for me.

And your farm is your reproductive organ.

Calm it.

Brad: The spank is on raincheck.

And I can’t calm it right now.

We’re having dinner.

Brad: Maybe I can …

if I just slip my hand under the table.

Oh my God!
I quickly swapped messages and wrote to Cori.

Em: Did Brad just slip his hand under the table?

Her reply was quick.

Cori: Yes. Why?

Cori: Oh! Ew. Never mind.

Cori: You do realise we are eating, right?

I couldn’t help but laugh. That naughty, surfer sex god.
Hm … I wonder if he’ll let me play with him?
The thought of sexting Brad was exciting, yet it also stirred a pool of guilt within me. And it shouldn’t have really, because he of all people should be the one I sexted without regard.

Biting my lip, I sent him a mild test. I couldn’t help myself.

Em: I know your hand is under the table, Mr.

So tell me, what are you doing with it?

My foot jittered.

I waited.

My finger tapped my chin.

I waited more.

Finally, my phone beeped again.

Brad: I’m calming.

Em: How so?

Brad: By harvesting.

Whaaaa?
Okay, so the sexting was not going quite as planned.

Em: Harvesting? As in farm harvesting?

Brad: Yes. I’m harvesting seed from my farm.