Fast (Not Like the Movies #2) Page 7
“Well, one date—”
“Yes,” Liam speaks over the top of me. My heart flip-flops.
“This is fabulous news!” Mum rushes around the other side of the counter and embraces Liam, then pinches my cheek. “You sly little thing! You should have told me.”
“I was going to ...” Once I was more sure of things myself.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” Mum snatches up Liam’s tea from where it sits in front of him, pouring it down the sink. “Go, have fun. Don’t sit around drinking tea with old ladies who are stuck in the past.”
“O ... okay then.” Liam pushes his stool back and holds his arm out toward me. “Shall we?”
I look to Mum. “Are you sure?”
She shakes her head. “Darling, please. I want you to go and have fun.”
I take Liam’s proffered hand. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Bye, darling,” Mum calls as we reach the front door. “Have a good time.”
We walk down the drive together toward an unfamiliar vehicle parked by the kerb. Liam opens the door of a white station wagon I eye questioningly. “A rental. My car’s in the shop after NRMA came and towed it this morning.”
I slide inside and he closes my door, then jumps in front of the steering wheel.
“So your mum seems to be coping well after Braden ...”
I clench my molars together. “Yes. I guess she is.”
“Do you not want to talk about it?” Liam pulls out of the driveway, shooting me a quick glance before checking left and right and pulling out.
“It’s not that. I’m just—I’m trying to live in the moment. To take what comes as it comes. I don’t want this—us,” I say, placing my hand on his leg. His really firm leg. Wow. “I don’t want us to be defined by him. By what happened.”
“Okay.” Liam places one hand over mine, bringing it up to his lips for a brief kiss that somehow makes that warmth swirl throughout my chest again. “Okay.”
I take the opportunity to study him as he drives. His dark curls circle his face, soft and inviting. Warmth lights those hazel eyes, and his broad shoulders droop, relaxed as he drives. Four years have been more than kind to him. He’s sexier now than he ever was before.
Something niggles in the corner of my mind, and I frown. Why did he say what he did that first day? What did it mean?
“Everything okay?” He gives me a quick glance before turning his focus back to the road.
“Fine. I was just ... wondering ...”
“About how soon is too soon to jump me? Because I assure you, I’d be open to it any time, but probably not while I’m driving.”
“No, you idiot.” I give him a playful slap on the arm. “That first day. When I saw you at the café. You said, ‘Sometimes, dreams just die.’”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“And I was wondering what you meant by that.”
He clears his throat, as if the words are lodged in there and he’s hoping it will help get them out. His lips part. He’s about to speak, but he locks his jaw shut with a sigh.
“It’s okay.” I squeeze his leg.
“No, I want to tell you. I owe it to you.” He nods, convincing me or himself, I’m unsure. “It’s just ... I’d always thought when I moved to the city, I was doing something good. Braden wasn’t here anymore, and I was going to push myself to be something big. Kind of live for the both of us, you know?”
I nod. “Yes, sure.”
“But photography has always been my dream, and it’s never gone anywhere. I don’t know if I’m not good enough, or if I just haven’t had my break ... but at some point, I stopped trying. I stopped fighting and became complacent. Seeing you ... at first, it reminded me of Braden. Of all the things I wanted but never had.” He gives a bitter laugh. “Just a guy in a coffee shop. That’s what I really am. Not the kind of man you deserve.”
“Hey!” I twist in my seat to face him. The car stops at a traffic light, and I clasp his jaw, turning his head to face me. “Don’t give me that shit. You’re kind. You’re funny. And I haven’t seen your work, but I’m sure you’re talented.”
“Q, you don’t have to say tha—”
“I’m not ‘just saying that’. Just saying that would be agreeing to go on a date with you, but not letting you come to my home. Just saying that would be pandering to your ego, when I have no reason to try that, except maybe to get in your pants, and just quietly, I’m pretty confident than when the time is right, I’ll find my way to your jeans in two seconds flat.”
He laughs, and that smile fills a hole somewhere inside me I didn’t know could be filled.
“Besides ... I’m trusting you with my photos for the internship project. If I was ‘just saying that’, would I really be in this car with you right now?”
Half his mouth curves in a smile. Mischief lights his eyes. “Who am I to argue with a woman like you?”
“You’re Liam fucking Smith.” I release my hold and the light turns green. “And you’ve always been a guy who’s made me weak at the knees.”
He doesn’t reply, but his hand works its way over to my thigh where it sits for the rest of the journey.
We drive until we reach the beach, where Liam parks the car close to the sand. The sun hides behind ominous clouds, the threat of a storm buzzing in the thick air. I open the door and suck it all in—the salty scent of the sea, the agitated cry of the seagulls, the roaring of the waves—all of it. The wind whips my hair over my shoulder, and I press my eyes closed. Braden and I, playing on the beach. Running races in the sand. Body surfing into shore, surging along with the fiercest waves.
I smile.
I actually smile.
“So tell me about this assignment again.” Liam, oblivious to the breakthrough I’ve just had, adjusts the camera around his neck before taking my hand, leading us toward the sand.
“We each have to do a piece with a written and photographed component. And I’m doing mine on the idea that sometimes the past shapes the future. Like the ocean. Sometimes it shapes the rocks, the cliff faces around us.” I gesture to the towering formation of oranges and burnt reds at the end of the beach. “And other times, it just gently moves sand from one place to the next. You can’t plan how the past will shape you, but it’ll shape you just the same.”
Liam frowns. “All you can do is try and make the best out of what you’ve got.”
“Yeah.” I smile up at him as I kick off my flip-flops and sink my toes into the cold sand. “And know that moving on doesn’t mean letting go. The past should guide you—not define you.”
“Not define you,” Liam muses, staring out as a particularly angry wave crashes against the shore. “I like that.”
The two of us walk until we reach the towering cliff face and the rocks scattered over the end of the beach like freckles against white skin.
“I’d like to get some photos of the cliff face, and then some of the sand. I want to showcase dramatic change and then a lesser change.” I point out various formations I remember from my childhood. Different rocks that Braden and I ran around, climbed, jumped from and hid behind.
“What about that one?” Liam points to a curve in the main structure. “That little cave. Remember? Braden and I used to hide out sometimes when we’d wag school. We’d stow our schoolbags in there and—”
“Jump off the rocks to go surfing,” I finish for him. “I came with you guys once or twice. Remember that time when we caught old Principal McAllister in the ocean?”
Liam laughs. “Yes! He could hardly bust our arses when he was skipping off, too.”
I giggle, remembering the day fondly.
Then it happens. The familiar pang low in my belly, a poke at a bruise that just won’t quit. I take a deep breath, trying to stem the sting.
That’s the thing about losing someone you love.
Even when you forget the pain, it hurts. Because remembering your loss is the greatest hurt there is.
“You ok
ay?” Liam’s arm warms my shoulders through the thin material of my tank top, and I smile.
“Yeah. Just ...” I gesture out to the ocean. “I miss him. This makes me think of things we did and it ... it hurts.”
Liam nods, taking it all in. “And what do you do when it hurts too much?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He takes the camera and points it at the cliff, clicking away. “When you just miss him more than you can bear. Where do you find him?”
I shrug and face the ocean, letting the wind flick my hair away from my face. “I don’t know.” I pause, studying the white foam peaks as they crash against the boulders. Tell him the truth, Quinn. “I write him these emails sometimes ... it’s kind of dumb, really.”
“That’s not dumb.”
“It is. He’ll never read them.” A seagull dive bombs into the ocean, returning triumphant with some kind of fish in its bill. “Doing that makes me feel close to him, but when things are really bad, or even when they’re really good, I go to his room. That’s where I feel him the most. Where my memories of him feel most ... real, I guess.”
I turn back to find the camera pointed at me, and I pull a face as Liam clicks away again.
“What about you? Where do you find him?” I step closer, but Liam clicks again, and I hold one hand in front of my face. “Okay, enough. You’ve got plenty already.”
“I could never have enough.” His words make my stomach swirl. He brushes his knuckles down the side of my face, and this time when he moves his finger to touch my scar, I let him hover over it. I let him trace the air above a part of me that signifies just how broken I really am.
“What happened back then ... I never forget it.” I don’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on the arc of the cliff behind him. “How I ran from you, begging him to drive me home. When the car crashed—when he hit that tree—everything I knew about life, about love—it all changed. From that moment on, I’ve been overanalysing, wondering if I did something wrong. I was crying, in such a state—and he was going too fast ...”
“He lived his life like that.” Liam shrugs simply, and I realise just how true those words are. Braden always had to be the loudest. Explore the furthest. Run the fastest. “It’s one of the things I loved about him.”
“Me too.” I smile warmly. He runs his finger over the edge of my scar a second time. “Please don't.” I press my hand over his and pull it away from my face. “It just reminds me of what happened back then.”
“Funny.” He cocks his head. “It reminds me how lucky I am to have pieces of you here.”
Chapter Fourteen
The weekend flies. Liam and I spend every spare second together, as if we’re trying to make up for the four years that stretched between us. We take photos, laugh, talk—but better than that, we don’t back away from the sad stuff. The real stuff. We face all things Braden head-on. But with him by my side, I feel I can do it. I can feel myself not moving on, but driving sideways.
I go back to McWilliams & Co on Monday morning with a spring in my step. Nothing can bring me down—not even the filthy look Shantel gives me when I pass her in the lobby.
“Quinn?”
I stop at Madison’s voice, turning to face her. “Hi, Madison.”
“Good morning.” She looks me up and down, a proud smile on her face. She doesn’t linger on my scar—and I’m oh-so grateful for that. “I just wanted to say you’ve done a great job with everything this past week. I really hope you’ll be applying for that vacant position.”
“I ...” I open my mouth to answer her, than snap it shut. I already have a job lined up back home. And I can’t leave my memories of Braden there ... can I?
My back is pushed. I stumble forward, lunging to the left so as not to take Madison out. Scowling, I look behind me, searching for the culprit. It’s a busy lobby, but not that busy.
“I’m so sorry.” Shantel bites her lip angelically. “I can’t believe I did that! So clumsy.”
“It’s fine.” I keep my voice level. Why do I have the feeling that was anything but an accident?
“Madison, so glad I caught you. I was hoping we could talk about the projects.” Shantel moves around me and sidles in next to our leader. “I’m really excited about this opportunity.”
“I’ll see you up there.” I power walk past them and spy a lift full of people directly in front of me. I pick up my pace, running the last few steps and squeeze my way in, just making it before the silver doors shut. There’s no way I want to stick around to hear Madison and Shantel talk shop.
Only, the joke’s on me. In my desperation to make the lift, I find myself pressed up against the chest of none other than Alessandro.
“Hello.” He smiles down at me, and I have the distinct feeling that he’s looking down my shirt.
“Hi.” I shuffle so my back touches the silver lift doors and bring my bag up to cover my chest.
“What?” he asks, his face the picture of innocence, but I’ve had it. I had the perfect weekend with Liam. I’ve got an assignment I feel confident with. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel as if I have to play it safe.
“I feel like you were looking down my top, and it’s not appropriate,” I state coolly, raising my eyebrows.
Alessandro’s chin meets his chest as his eyes widen. “Do not, how you say, flatter yourself.”
“Trust me, I’m not.” My every instinct is to cover my scar with my hand, even though it’s already partly obscured by make-up, but I keep my fingers firmly wrapped around the handles of my bag. I can’t shrink into myself now. “From what I hear, you’ll do anything that moves.”
A woman to his left titters, and I grin, feeling emboldened. “I know you saw me with my shirt off the other day, but let me tell you, in no way does that give you permission to ogle me in the future.”
Silence cloaks the lift with the weight of a stage curtain.
I frown. What did I say—
Oh.
He saw me with my shirt off the other day.
“Because of a wardrobe malfunction.” I smile up at the blonde lady who’d laughed at Alessandro before, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. Ugh. This is not going well.
When we reach the floor for Lola, I scamper out of the lift, head down, racing toward my desk. Macy places one hand on my arm, her face a picture of concern. “What’s wrong?”
I huff out a sigh. “I just tried to tell Alessandro off for checking me out, but ended up confessing to a lift full of strangers that he saw me without my top on.”
Macy bites her lip and looks over my shoulder, then down to the desk in front of her.
“What is it?”
“Well ... it’s not entirely a lift full of strangers.”
Frowning, I turn around—
And see Jack McWilliams walking into the room.
Oh God.
The CEO of this company probably thinks I had an affair with the model.
He speaks to the receptionist, pointing at me, and I can only imagine the sort of things they’re saying.
“That girl there? She slept with Alessandro. What does she do here?” Jack leans against the marble desk.
“Not a lot. She was supposed to get the coffee, but she couldn’t even handle that. I’ve heard she was so desperate to model for the magazine that she stripped.” The receptionist stabs a red-taloned finger in my direction, an ooh-aah look on her face.
“Quinn?”
Macy’s voice snaps me back to reality. “Uh-huh?”
“It’s going to be okay.”
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Jack and another suit disappearing into the lift together. My shoulders slump in relief. At least I wasn’t dismissed on the spot. “I guess.”
“Why so glum?” Macy tilts her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t really care one way or the other what people thought of you here. Big job at the local newspaper to get back to, and all that.”
“I do, I just ...” I press my lips
together as the thought hits me like a smack to the forehead.
At some point during the last week, I stopped not caring. I stopped thinking this could never work because I need to be home to remember my brother.
I’ve started to want this.
And the thought scares me almost as much as being stuck in the car that crashed that night.
Chapter Fifteen
To: mwinters@mcwilliamsandco.com.au8:58am 21/07/2017
From: intern6@mcwilliamsandco.com.au
Re: Eternal embarrassment
Dear Madison,
Hope you’re well doing good having a great morning well!
I’m writing to you because of an embarrassing incident that occurred in the lift this morning on my way into work. I may have implied to a number of McWilliams & Co employees, including Jack McWilliams, that Alessandro has seen me topless. And he has. But it was by accident, at that photo shoot last week! I would never sleep with him. Or anyone for that matter.
Best wishes Regards From,
Quinn
To: mwinters@mcwilliamsandco.com.au9:01am 21/07/2017
From: intern6@mcwilliamsandco.com.au
Re: Embarrassment level DEFCON 1
Dear Madison,
Not that I wouldn’t sleep with anyone ever! I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex before.
I meant I won’t sleep with anyone from work. Or a place where I’m interning.
From,
Quinn
To: mwinters@mcwilliamsandco.com.au9:03am 21/07/2017
From: intern6@mcwilliamsandco.com.au
Re: Digging to China
Dear Madison,
Please disregard that last email.
If you need me, I’ll be going to find a shovel so I can dig myself a deeper hole than the one I’ve just embarrassed myself in.
Quinn
To: intern6@mcwilliamsandco.com.au9:05am 21/07/2017
From: mwinters@mcwilliamsandco.com.au
Re: Bring me back some dim sums!
Dear Quinn,
We keep our shovels on level three.
(Kidding. I understand that these things happen and will explain the situation to Jack at our next monthly meeting.)
(Not kidding about the shovel location, however. They are left over from a shoot a few years back.)