Fast (Not Like the Movies #2) Page 8

  Madison

  “One flat white and six fancy-arse coffees to go?” Liam hands over my cardboard tray, pressing his lips against mine. He tastes like coffee and something sweet, something I can’t get enough of, and I fist my free hand in his shirt, even though this is a very crowded café and I should know better. For some reason, Liam does that to me. He makes me stop caring and start feeling. And I can’t get enough.

  We pull back, my heart speeding like a car gone too fast. Liam’s chest rises and falls a little quicker than usual.

  “I want to be greeted like that every damn time.” He half smiles.

  My heart warms. “Will I see you again tonight?”

  He nods. “Same as last night, and the one before.” We spent Tuesday and Wednesday night at his place, hanging out after we both finished work. Hours were spent discussing the stunning black-and-white photographs on his walls, talking about Lola magazine, planning dates for the future, and kissing and fooling around, exploring each other, body and soul.

  In the present, Liam presses a quick peck to my nose. “I don't know what I’m going to do when this internship ends tomorrow and I don’t get to see you every day.”

  I smile and say my goodbyes. Liam doesn’t know it, but I have a secret. Tonight, I’m going to tell him—I’ve decided to apply for the vacant position at Lola after all. And while there are no guarantees I’ll get it, Madison has been vocal in her approval of me so far, and I’m quietly confident.

  For a while I’ll commute, but I hope that maybe in a few months, Liam and I can look for an apartment to share. Yes, it’s soon, but I’ve had a crush on him for most of my high school life, and when you know, you know. It’d be great to have our own place where we could make new memories all of our own, and still honour the ones we have of my brother. A fresh start. Together.

  “Check your email when you get to work,” Liam calls as I navigate around a group of schoolgirls, all clutching extra-large takeaway cups.

  “The photos?” Energy rushes through me. I can't wait to see them.

  “Sent them about half an hour ago.” Liam winks and jerks his head toward the kitchen. “Anyway, I better get back before they realise I’ve spent half the morning doing something I shouldn't have.”

  The way he says those words leaves me feeling decidedly naughty. I blow him a kiss and head back to McWilliams & Co with a buzz running through me that's not just from the coffee.

  After distributing the coffees to the staff involved, I sit down at my desk and press the button that sends my computer whirring into life. Macy’s seat is vacant beside me, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s using her catcher pair of knickers after a rendezvous in the mailroom with Sanjeev.

  “What’s got you so smiley?” Shantel’s voice is loaded with judgment.

  “Just in a good mood.” I smile, logging onto my email and hitting the download button when Liam’s name appears on the screen. “And I got my photos back for the project.”

  “Huh. So you didn't do them in-house?”

  I shake my head. “No. I wanted something ... fresher.” I feel a little bitchy as I say the word, knowing that had very little to do with it, but the way she’s treated me the last two weeks has left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  When the folder of photos flashes up on my screen, I pause. Two folders sit inside the first, and I frown. What’s Liam playing at?

  I click on the one labelled Past. Inside are the photos of the cliff and the sea Liam took on Saturday. My breath catches as I click on the first image, letting it take up the entire space of my screen and the entire space of my heart. It’s beautiful. Somewhere in between the wilderness of the sea and the brevity of the clouds above, Liam has managed to capture a rawness in the photo that speaks to me. I swallow down a lump in my throat, clicking through all the images there. Each one is stunning. He truly is talented. Maybe I can get him some work here at the magazine company.

  I close the folder and blink my surprise when I get to the one labelled Present. I’d almost forgot. I open it, then double-click the first image icon.

  My face fills the screen—only it’s not my face. It’s a girl who looks like me, but she’s wearing a smile I haven’t seen for a few years. It’s got genuine depth and emotion behind it. The kind I’m not used to sharing.

  Each of my freckles are visible, pale marks on paler skin. My brown eyes have this light to them, as if there’s this great opportunity just around the corner and I don’t want to miss it.

  And then there’s my scar. It pulls at the skin around the corner of my lip, forcing me into a smile whether I want to or not. But here, in this photo, you can tell that I want it to. You can tell that the scar isn’t bothering me at all.

  I touch a hand to the side of my face, running the pads of my fingers over the puckered skin. When the windscreen shattered, it tore my mouth open. When the car hit the tree, it tore my brother limb from limb.

  Liam’s words play over in my brain. “It reminds me just how lucky I am to have pieces of you here.”

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe this isn’t the tombstone I always think it is—maybe it’s a commemoration of life instead.

  “So how’d you get that thing?”

  I blink at Shantel’s words, turning to face her. “Pardon?”

  “You know.” She points to the flawless skin to the side of her mouth. “That scar.” She scrunches up her nose.

  My arms reach over my stomach, trying to protect myself from the physical impact her words have on me. I quickly close the image, letting the preview shrink down into the toolbar. Sharing my scars with Liam is one thing—sharing them with Shantel is another entirely. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s a pretty ugly nothing.” She swivels back around in her chair to face her computer. “That’s not what you’re submitting for your assignment, is it?”

  “No,” I rush out. Memories of being outcast during university assault me. “Have you seen that scar?” “Look at her face.” “I’d cry too if I looked like that.” They never thought I heard, but I always did. Whispers carry like that. I shrink into myself, the words as real as if they were voiced yesterday. “God no.”

  “Lucky.” She raises her eyebrows. “That could have been embarrassing.”

  I stare at the computer, watching new emails flash into my Outlook, but my mind is stuck on Shantel’s words. Is that what I’m doing? Embarrassing myself by believing Liam and I could make a go of it? By thinking I could work for a magazine company?

  Memories of the weekend come thick and fast. On the beach with Liam, I was Quinn Hamilton. I wasn’t a scar. I wasn’t my past. And while I’m still not ready to publicly flaunt the mark on my face, I’m better than this. I deserve more than to take Shantel’s crap.

  “That was cruel, and you know it.”

  Shantel looks up, startled. “Pardon?”

  “Ever since we started here, you’ve been nothing but mean to me, and for no good reason.”

  She smiles, her lips closed. “You’re imagining things. Does that scar go all the way to your brain?”

  Breath wallops from my lungs. I clasp the edge of the desk. Braden. I miss you, Braden. Her words hurt me so much.

  She turns back to her desk, a look of victory on her face.

  Something inside of me snaps. I hate that she’s on top again when she takes such pleasure in seeing me fall. I hate that she’s turning my scar ugly when on the weekend, Liam made me feel as if I was something more. “Does that scar go all the way to your brain?” It’s the sort of comment a teenager would make, not a grown woman. She’s threatened by me and lashing out, but I’m better than that. I narrow my eyes and give her one last long look. “That’s just the sort of immature remark I’d expect from someone like you.”

  She blinks, and for a moment, her perfect veneer cracks. I’ve rattled her. Thank you.

  I turn back to my computer before I lose it, before I let something else she says get to me. I don’t know where that bolt of confidence came from, b
ut I like it.

  Macy’s Chanel perfume reaches me before she does, and she flops down into the seat beside me. “That man sure can kiss.” She fans her face, then frowns, her blue eyes locked on mine. “All right, out with it.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shake my head. I don’t want Shantel to know I’m still rattled by her.

  “Quinn—”

  “I’m fine, okay?” I beg her to understand without saying the words.

  Somehow, it works. She places her hand under the desk and squeezes my knee. “As long as you know I’m here if you need to talk.”

  “I do.” I smile my thanks. I won’t be talked down to by Shantel, but her words still hurt me a little, so I drag the folder labelled Present into the computer’s bin. Somewhere in the trash. That’s where photos like that belong.

  Chapter Sixteen

  To: braden.hamilton@email.com.au17:01am 24/07/2017

  From: quinn.hamilton@email.com.au

  Re: Confession: I’m taking a chance

  Dear Braden,

  I can’t believe I’m taking this leap. If all goes well, tomorrow I’ll hand in my project, apply for the job, and possibly be committing to a new life where I do get to follow my dreams, where I do get what I want.

  Of course, there’s a chance I might not get the position, and that’s okay, too. Liam and I can make it work on the weekends, if his café job will let him, and if not—well, maybe I could move anyway. Maybe it’s time I did something for me.

  A girl who’s also completing the internship—she kind of threw me earlier today with something she said, but I’m determined not to let people like her get the better of me. I let girls like that judge me for far too long—it’s time I took control of my life.

  I’ll still miss you—of course I will. But I think you’d want this for me—for me to charge forward. I can’t stay in the granny flat out the back of Mum’s place forever. Someday, I’ll have to move on, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do that with than Liam.

  Tonight, I’m going to tell him how I feel—I need to confess my feelings for him. Somehow, doing it today feels a million times harder than it did when I was an eighteen-year-old. Back then I had your support to fall back on. I didn’t have this feeling as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff, constantly balancing on the precipice in case I fall or get pushed. I thought life was hard back then.

  I had no idea how much harder things would actually get.

  Still, I have to tell Liam what I’d like us to do. How I’d like us to date, to ... be together. For longer than just this two-week period. I have a feeling that this will be the hardest truth I’ve ever had to confess. Wish me luck!

  Love,

  Quinn xx

  ***

  “Is everything okay?”

  I turn my head to Liam on the opposite side of the couch. “Sure. Why?”

  He shrugs, a kind smile turning his lips. “You just seem kind of distracted tonight. You’ve hardly touched your Thai ...” He gestures to the open takeout containers on the coffee table. “And I’ve missed seeing you smile.” He cups my jaw, those beautiful eyes looking into mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just ... I got the photos you took of me.”

  “And?” Liam leans closer, his hand dropping to his side. “Do you like them?”

  “Like them?” I choke out. “Li, they’re gorgeous. The cliff, the ocean ...”

  “And you.” His eyes hold me captive in their gaze.

  “The girl in that photo doesn’t look like me. She looked—”

  “Gorgeous? Stunning? Breathtaking?”

  I rest my hand on his leg. “She looks ... happy.”

  Liam frowns. “And you don’t feel that way with me?”

  “No.” I widen my eyes. “I mean, yes. Yes, when I’m with you I feel happy. It’s just been a long time since I felt that way.”

  His face breaks into a wide grin. “I hope I make you smile like that for a very long time.” He leans closer and plants a slow, soft kiss on my lips, a promise of things to come. “I sent them because I think you embody the words you’ve written, about the past not defining you. You’re moving forward, Q. Would you consider submitting it with your piece?”

  I push against his chest. “God no. I wouldn't embarrass myself like that.” I run my hand over my scar. “I like that you don’t see it as a disfigurement, but I’m still wearing make-up to work. I still let my hair slide forward and cover it. I’m still not one hundred per cent there.”

  “Okay.” He nods. “Is that all that has you distracted?”

  “No.” I pause. “My internship finishes tomorrow.”

  Liam puffs out a long breath and turns to the window overlooking the tumultuous Bondi Beach. Lights twinkle along the foreshore, and waves huff and sigh against the sand. “Listen, Quinn, I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not ready for another hard farewell.” He faces me, those golden-brown eyes boring into my own. “I already said goodbye to your brother. Don’t make me say goodbye to you, too.”

  My heart does cartwheels up and down my body. Jitters strike my toes, my knees, my chest. “You don’t have to.”

  “There’s no point—sorry, what?” Liam frowns. “What did you just say?”

  For one long, forever moment I think he’s upset with me, with my choice. “I ... I’m going to apply for the job, and from what Madison’s said, I think I stand a pretty good chance of getting it. And I was thinking we could keep seeing each other, that we could you know, date, and hang out, and ... well, yeah.”

  Liam’s forehead smooths, and when he places his hands on either side of my face, I know everything’s going to be all right. “Confession?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’m falling in love with you, Quinn Hamilton.” His lips meet mine, and this time the kiss isn’t slow and soft—it’s passion, as deep and never-ending as the sea. This kiss is like the waves, rising and swelling with emotion and then crashing down with the heat of lust. This kiss is like the cliff face, ravaged over time to produce a true beauty—us. The way we feel for each other.

  Liam moves his lips to my ear and I open my mouth in a sigh.

  “Oh, Quinn,” he groans, his mouth covering my own and swallowing my desperate pants. Tension coils deep inside me, a need to be released, and when our lips meet again, mine part and I grant him entrance, tasting this beautiful man who’s shown me so many things in such a short space of time. One hand moves down my back, pulling my chest close to his until there’s no space between us, and I’m everywhere I want to be.

  When he stands and gestures to his room, I don’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure?” He holds my hands as if they’re the most fragile shells he doesn’t want to break. “Are we moving too fast?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “The speed is perfect.”

  ***

  The next morning, I can’t wipe the smile from my dial. This is the day I hand in my assignment. The day I might hear about the job opportunity. The day I orgasm twice before 7:00 a.m. Who wouldn’t smile after that?

  “You’ve got it.” Macy narrows her eyes at me.

  “Got what?” I place my handbag under the desk.

  “That.” She twirls her finger in a circle. “Sex face. That’s the look of a well-orgasmed woman.”

  “Macy!” Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I can’t stop the ear-to-ear grin.

  “Am I wrong?”

  I shake my head, turning to my computer.

  “I knew it!” She crows, pumping one fist in the air.

  “You two are ridiculous,” Shantel huffs. “Can’t you at least try and act your age?”

  “Whatever.” Macy rolls her eyes as Shantel pushes back from her desk and walks away. “Honestly, when this internship ends and I don’t have to see her smug face again, it will be too soon.”

  “Tell me about it.” I grin.

  I open a file I was editing for Madison and get to work, inserting notes in the page’s border. I should
submit my assignment, but I’m happy with it so far—and there’s no rush on getting that in. I may as well make sure I have everything else done first.

  When ten o’clock rolls around and it’s time to get the coffees, I feel as if I’ve made definite progress. I stand from my desk, stretching my arms above my head, and make my way toward the lift.

  As I walk through the open-plan room, several people look my way. One woman at a nearby desk faces me, then quickly glances away; others don’t bother to hide their curiosity, instead out and out staring. Whispers follow me louder than the footfalls of my stilettoes on the white tiled floor. I touch my hand to the side of my lips. What’s wrong? Did I rush my concealer job this morning? And am I really going to be able to work here if people look at me like this?

  I hop in the lift and press the button for the ground floor. It stops one floor below, the doors opening to reveal a grinning Alessandro waiting to come on board.

  “Good morning.” He wriggles his eyebrows.

  “Hi.” The doors close, and I stare straight ahead at their dimpled silver surface.

  “So that was very brave of you.”

  I turn to face him. What is he talking about?

  No, my rational thought reprimands me. Don’t take the bait. “It was,” I agree, to hopefully nip this conversation in the bud.

  “I mean, it is good to be proud of your looks, but to share them with the whole company?”

  My head snaps to the left faster than ladies in a Boxing Day sale frenzy. “What?”

  “Your assignment. Did you not mean to send it so widely?” His arm waves around the elevator, as if the whole of McWilliams & Co were situated in here with us.

  “I haven’t sent my assignment in yet.” I speak the words slowly, as if this might stop this what feels like one hell of an awful moment from coming to fruition.

  Alessandro wags a finger in my face. “Don’t play coy with me.” He pulls a phone out from his black denim jeans. “I know this is you, ma chérie.”

  I grab the cell from his hand. I check the addresses at the top. More than one hundred emails are listed. This truly seems to have been sent to the entire company. Even Jack McWilliams’ address is in there. My heart sticks in my throat as I scroll down to the email’s body.