Give Me Love (6 page)

Chapter Three

“Sandwich, the two of you need to talk,” Mac insisted.

Maybe we did but that didn’t mean it was going to happen. Regardless, I tried to curb my irritation with my friends. They meant well and I did appreciate that they wanted to see me happy, but the sooner they realised a relationship with Jared was not in the cards the better.

I heard heavy footfalls on the stairs, followed by Jared appearing in my bedroom doorway. I watched his eyes find Mac first as she bounded off the bed to wrap him in hug and start a rapid fire of questions about what had called him away last night. Henry scooted to the edge of the bed to join the conversation, but my mind tuned out, unable to listen to his answers as my eyes drank him in. His silky hair was damp as though he’d just showered, and he was wearing his usual vintage t-shirt teamed with a pair of low slung cargo shorts.

Jared’s gaze cut to mine as he spoke, his eyes lowering lazily in a full body scan. Glancing down at my scantily clad form, I remembered I was still only wearing my usual night time attire of a thin silk camisole and tiny matching shorts. I owned numerous sets in various colours and patterns, and this one, a deep rose with ivory lace trim, was my favourite. I quickly shifted my bare legs, scooting them back under the heavy white covers and out of sight, before turning a scorching glare his way.

His eyes flickered in amusement, and he grinned at me, revealing a dimple as Henry spoke to him. A dimple! How was I supposed to fight that? I could feel battle lines being drawn.

My mind tuned back in after I’d finished pulling the covers to my chin.

“How did you get in anyway?” Mac asked.

Jared’s frown included all of us. “No one answered the door, and it wasn’t locked. Why the fuck wasn’t the door locked?”

The three of us shared a guilty expression because the cab ride home was a little vague. Frankly, we were lucky the front door was even closed after our hard-earned night of celebration.

I winced when both Mac and Henry mumbled awkwardly obvious excuses and vacated the room. I heard a loud thump that sounded like someone banging into the wall and then the bathroom door slammed shut. It was, no doubt, a skirmish for dibs on the shower which was a regular occurrence in our household, and Henry, the bigger of the three of us, was no gentlemen and usually came out trumps.

My eyes warned Jared that he too should also vacate the room, but he ignored it. Instead, he chose to gift me with another grin and shifted to the end of the bed where he proceeded to slip off his shoes and stretch his long, sexy length out next to me. He turned on his back and tucked his arms under his head to contemplate the ceiling.

“I thought they’d never leave.”

He smelled nice. I pulled the sheet up higher.

“Maybe you should wait for Mac downstairs,” I suggested.

He didn’t respond to my words. He lost his smile and small lines furrowed the middle of his brow.

“You didn’t return my message, Evie.”

He was, of course, referring to the message he’d sent post kiss that I had no idea how to respond to. I itched to pull the sheets up and over my head, but instead, I tried to form a response that came out badly worded.

“That’s because your lips on mine was a colossal mistake, and I wasn’t sure where we should go from that.”

My eyes flickered to his lips, and I tried to shake the feeling that it wasn’t a mistake at all. When I shifted my gaze to meet his, I almost missed the brief flash of hurt he carefully tucked away.

“Well, I can’t say being called a colossal mistake is a nice feeling.”

It wasn’t how I’d meant it to sound, so I tried to explain without giving away too much. “Not you, just you and I together. It was a nice kiss. I just think we work much better as friends.”

Jared’s eyebrows raised as he turned on his side to face me, propping his head on his hand. “Just nice?”

I flushed and the urge to burrow reached critical levels. “Um…” I offered in response. Really, what was I supposed to say? “
It was a lip-locking, body-burning, mind-vacating experience like I’d never had in my entire life and please could you just keep kissing me until the end of time?”

“Was this what you wanted to talk about?” I blurted out.

Then I cringed internally for throwing myself into the fire.

Amusement returned and flickered in his eyes as he noted my flushed skin and seemed to like the reaction. “No, but it’s a good start.”

It was?

“It is?”

I shifted the covers down a little so my arms could escape the confines. It was getting hot. Jared took the opportunity to reach out and tuck my hand in his, threading our fingers together. He expanded no further at my question, but his gaze on our linked hands was contemplative.

“Jared?”

He took his time answering, now watching me intently with an expression I wasn’t able to read. “I’m not really sure you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”

I frowned. “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

Irritated, I tugged my hand out of his and scooted out of bed, hurrying to my wardrobe to shrug on my silk robe, tying it in knots so tight I thought I might have to get the scissors out later just to get out of it.

When I emerged from the wardrobe, Jared hadn’t moved.

“I need to have a shower, so you know, maybe you should wait downstairs.”

He merely looked at me and pulled the covers up and over his chest, his actions telling me he wasn’t planning on moving anywhere any time soon.

“Evie?” he called out when I turned to leave the room.

I rested my hand against the doorframe and half turned. “Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you. You’ve always been a good friend, even living in another city, it was nice knowing I had you to talk to. Just a random simple message in the middle of the day meant more to me than… Well, anyway, I’ve missed hearing from you, so let’s get back to that okay?”

Because I’d missed it too, I nodded with smile. “Okay,” I agreed.

“Good,” was his response. “Wake me when Mac is ready to leave.”

He closed tired eyes and before I left the room, I tried not to notice how hot he looked all wrapped up in the frilly white confection of my bed, but really, it was a wonder the sheets didn’t catch fire.

* * *

After my shower, during which Mac and Jared left, I hit the kitchen of our duplex to start making the slice. As it was newly renovated, the walls were painted in a stone colour, the cupboards were glossy white and housed big stainless steel appliances. Thick, pale caesarstone benchtops ran the length of the room. It suited my kitchen implements fetish seamlessly. A Breville juicer sat on the counter for when I decided to shock my insides with something healthy. It sat next to my kettle, toaster, and KitchenAid mixer, all in cherry red because everyone knew red was faster.

I came out of the walk-in pantry with an armload of ingredients as Henry stumbled in. I shoved some Panadol at him and took some for myself while I was at it.

He swallowed them gratefully. “Thanks, Evie.”

“Want some breakie? I could annihilate a bacon and egg burger right now.”

Watching Henry flinch and turn green, I realised that he was suffering the effects of the Hangover Stalker. It was when you woke surprised at how great you felt, only to have a shower and start moving around, and then realised you were slowly losing the will to live.

I patted his arm in sympathy, but really, this was karma for the stunt he and Mac had pulled on me this morning.

“Maybe later,” he said.

I pulled my cherry red food processor out of the bottom cupboard and sat it on the bench, emptying out the packet of biscuits I’d ripped open.

“Well maybe just a biscuit,” he said, rescuing one from imminent massacre and shovelling it in his face.

I smacked at his hand before proceeding to switch the processor on and watch the biscuits rapidly become a pile of rubble before my eyes.

“You making your slice?” he asked around a mouthful of biscuit.

“Yes I am, Detective Hussy. You coming to the barbecue?”

“Fuck yeah.”

This was not a surprise. Barbecued food was hot on our list of must eat items. I emptied the rubble of biscuits into a bowl and opened a tin of condensed milk.

“Mac said her mum invited half of Sydney last night,” he leaned over to flip on the kettle. “So did you and Jared have the
talk
?” he asked, obviously wanting the low down on what happened after he and Mac vacated the bedroom.

“There was nothing to talk about.” Well nothing Jared was prepared to talk about until I was ready, but I wasn’t willing to share that little gem with Henry. It would only encourage him.

He rolled his eyes in obvious frustration. “Chook, I may not be Dr. Love, but it’s obvious to even me, the retarded relationship bastard, that you and Jared have a thing.”

This was true, the part about Henry being a retarded relationship bastard. Henry had broken a heart or a million in his time (pick a number somewhere in between) because his struggle with the concept of commitment was an ongoing one. In his defence, he was always upfront about his unwillingness to commit.

He spooned sugar into two mugs as I began to press the biscuit base into the slice pan.

“Henry, does either Wild Renny or Asshole Kellar ring a bell? I’m not going there again.”

“Jared is hardly in the same league as those two losers.”

“They weren’t complete losers, Henry.”

Henry raised one eyebrow at me as I moved to the fridge.

“Okay, well maybe Asshole Kellar was, but his car wasn’t. Wild Renny was just misunderstood, you know. I wonder what he’s doing now?”

Henry handed me a mug of tea along with a warning. “Wild Renny is out of your life, Evie. I don’t want you thinking about him or wondering anything about him. Clear?”

Henry liked to act like the big bossy brother sometimes, and on this particular subject, I usually allowed it because alongside Coby, he was the one who helped pick up the pieces when my life had spiralled out of control.

I pulled him in for a soothing hug, knowing the memories made him tense and angry.

“I’m clear, Henry.”

He squeezed me tight before pulling away, nodding and moving to the couch indicating he wanted to watch music videos.

I finished making my slice, popped it in the fridge to set, made a pile of vegemite toast, and joined Henry. I promptly ate the pile of toast and passed out.

A message from Mac woke me up as I lay drooling all over Henry’s chest with a piece of vegemite toast mashed into my face.

M: Have you left yet? If you don’t leave now, you’re gonna be late, asshead!

“Shit, Henry, wake up!”

Henry was lying on his back, lightly snoring into a cushion. I shoved his shoulder. When he didn’t move, I shoved harder and he accidentally went off the edge of the couch. I winced when his head bounced off the floor with a crack.

“Evie.
What the fuck
?”

I lifted my chin up in challenge. I didn’t mean to crack his head, but I had to roll with it now. “I tried for ages to wake you,” I lied.

Henry pounced and we wrestled on the floor like ten year olds. Henry knew all my best moves, and because of my aversion to defeat, I retreated, leaping off him and racing for the stairs instead. I needed to wash my face now that I had vegemite smeared up the side of my cheek.

Henry, realising my intentions, raced passed me on the stairs and shoved into my shoulder so that I stumbled. I should have remembered that move because he surged ahead, flew into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

“Damn you, Henry,” I shouted.

I changed into a pair of hot pink capris and a black singlet top, and because it was hot, pulled my hair into a knot of curls at the nape of my neck. Sliding my feet into black flip flops, I was ready to go, and we were only ten minutes late by the time I parked my Hilux in front of Steve and Jenna’s house. Coby had bought me the car for my birthday two years ago. It was a double-cab with turbo diesel in tidal blue and kicked car ass. In addition to kicking car ass, it also helped cart around musical equipment when needed while still making me feel like I owned the road just a little, which was extremely satisfying.

Steve and Jenna’s house in Balmain was a renovated two storey rendered brick affair with bright green, well-tended shrubbery and a giant wall of jasmine vine currently in bloom along either side of the house. Apparently, the barbecue had just hit full swing if the amount of cars parked in the driveway and street were anything to go by.

I tilted my head to glare at Frog and Cooper through the rear view mirror.

“Cooper,” I growled.

“Sandwich,” he drawled with a grin.

“Do I look like I need a seeing eye dog?”

I threw up my hands in defeat when no one was willing to meet my eyes, but half the missing slice and coconut crumbed lips told the story that no one needed to verbalise. The boys were like hoovers when it came to food; nothing was safe.