Spark (11 page)

“Crystal!” A squeal echoes from the front of the bar, and we both turn around. It must be her sister, Leila. The resemblance is uncanny. They could be twins. She’s holding hands with a tall, lanky guy with blond scruffy hair, who I assume is her boyfriend, Brad.

“Leila,” Crystal squeals back as she gets up from the table and envelopes her sister in a giant bear hug. “Hey, Brad,” Crystal says, as they continue to hug. Crystal moves back to her seat, and introduces me to Leila and Brad when they sit at our end of the table.

Leila instantly takes over the conversation, telling us all about their flight and the fancy hotel they checked into. From her description, it sounds
very
nice. Leila’s excitement bubbles over, and she keeps squeezing and touching Crystal. They must be close. The waitress comes to our table, and Brad orders a beer, and Leila asks for a wine glass.

“So, you haven’t killed my sister yet, Eevie, so she can’t be all that bad to live with.” Leila laughs.

“It’s early days,” I reply, my mouth tugging into a grin. We all laugh out loud. The waitress returns, pouring Brad’s beer into a chilled glass in front of him. She fills Leila’s glass, and replenishes ours.

“Cheers,” Leila chirps, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” we all reply together.

“Have you guys started without us?” Rob broadcasts loudly, as he enters the bar with three guys—Pete, from his work, Dean, who I knew from school and Mr Piercing Pale Blue Eyes, Aidan. My heart wildly kicks at the sight of him.
Shit
.

We meet again.

CHAPTER SIX

Brad introduces himself to Rob, and they shake hands. Rob casually introduces Pete and Dean, but pays more attention when introducing Aidan. Aidan nods modestly at everyone, and smiles when his eyes meet mine. He raises his eyebrows, and quietly says “hi”, and I shyly do the same. It’s been a month since I met him, and yes, my memory serves me well.
Drop-dead, pick-me-up-off-the-floor
gorgeous.
Is it hot in here?

The sleeves of his fitted, checked shirt are rolled up, showing off a matching set of firm, tanned forearms. His black jeans, not as tight as a second skin, are tight enough to draw my attention. I have to look away before I start imagining what’s underneath.

Dean comes over, and cuddles me from behind as I sit in my chair. “Hey, Eevie,” he whispers in my ear, and kisses me swiftly on the cheek. My eyes flit back in Aidan’s direction, and he’s watching Dean like the man’s got two heads.

“Hey, Dean,” I reply. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. We used to hang out a bit, but not since getting full-time jobs. He hasn’t changed—same stocky build, and short, sandy-blond hair.

The guys take their seats at the other end of the table, Aidan on the far opposite end to me. Perhaps it’s best he keeps his distance.

“Let’s order,” Crystal says, piping up now that the table is full. Almost straight away the waitress is standing behind Rob, pen poised to paper. Rob orders a round of beers for the guys, and a few dishes to share to start off with—crispy pork belly, seared yellow-fin tuna, salt and pepper quail, kingfish sashimi, and duck spring rolls. It all sounded so delicious.

“Oh, better get another bottle of the sav blanc for the ladies.” Rob winks at us as he hands the menu to the waitress.

As one tapas dish is emptied, another comes to take its place. We nibble, drink, and chatter away. By around ten pm, we’ve all had a reasonable amount to drink, and the conversations are somewhat louder—especially from the other end of the table. Typically, the table is split in two, with the girls in one conversation, the boys in another.

It’s hard to get a word in edgeways with Crystal and Leila in such deep discussion, so I look to the end of the table and listen to the boys.

Aidan is centre of the guys’ attention—all eyes are on him. I smile as I notice Rob gazing at Aidan with adulation. Yep, he’s definitely in love with him. Aidan notices my interest in their conversation, and tilts his head curiously, smirking at me before continuing his story. I’ve tried hard all night to ignore him, but hearing his voice, and his deep laugh, it hasn’t been easy.

“Crowie was comin’ a close second, but he misread the jump, and came into the last corner too hot. He lost it, and two bikes landed on him. Fucked up his ankle pretty bad and broke his collarbone in three places,” Aidan says.

“Damn, that shit’s gotta hurt,” Rob says, wincing. Someone else made a gurgling noise in their throat. Pete rubbed his collarbone.

“Almost cracked his helmet in half, and it took him a while to come to. He’s off the track for a good part of the year, at least,” Aidan says and pops an olive in his mouth, licking the remnants of olive oil off his long fingers.

Gulp.

I must be staring. What the hell is up with me tonight?

“This is why you needed to buy all that protective shit, Rob. I dare say Crowie knows his way around a bike,” Aidan says.

“Are you saying I don’t?” Rob spits out at Aidan.

“You can ride, mate. I’m just sayin’ don’t let fear hold ya back. I sure as fuck don’t. Just try not to be such a fuckin’ pussy on the next ride. You have a throttle for a reason. Otherwise, you might as well get a mountain bike. They’re not as heavy to push.”

All the guys burst into laughter, except for Rob. Aidan’s deep laugh is infectious, and I have to cover my mouth to hide a giggle.

Rob raises his eyebrows, and folds his arms across his puffed out chest. “I’ll bet you a case of beer, Aidan, that I beat you through that single trail in the Brindies,” Rob challenges.

Aidan raises one eyebrow, a sneaky smirk crawling over his lips. He extends his hand across the table to Rob. “Make it two, and I might even make it a close race so you
think
you have a chance.”

Rob takes his hand, and they shake. “Fuck you. Deal. Two cases.” Aidan chuckles, and shakes his head.

The more I hear Aidan talk, the funnier he becomes. There’s something else about him, though. I can’t put my finger on it. Whatever it is, it draws everyone in—guys and girls.

By the time we sort out the bill, and finish the last bottle of wine, it’s after ten thirty. Pete says his farewells, but not before the other guys give him a hard time about being soft for bailing early. From the way Crystal and her sister are moving to the music, I can tell it’s time to dance.

“So, where are we moving on to?” Crystal asks Rob loudly. Rob shrugs his shoulders, and I remember seeing Antonio earlier today.

“What about the Orchid Lounge?” I suggest excitedly, looking around for support.

“Yes! I wanna dance,” Crystal shrieks. She grabs Rob’s hand, and starts to drag him towards the street.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Leila adds enthusiastically.

Rob surrenders. “Okay people, let’s go down the street.” We start the short walk to the Orchid Lounge, the girls arm-in-arm, leading the way.

As we approach, there’s a reasonable queue out the front. The music is more R&B, a bit more my taste than the techno music they played the night Cassie and I were here. We join the end of the queue, Crystal and I swaying to the music. As we wait in line, we start to mingle a bit more as a group, rather than just boys versus girls. Aidan moves closer to Crystal and I, and says “hi”. Crystal, aka Miss Chatterbox After A Few Wines, starts bombarding him with questions.

I fidget with my necklace as I wait for a break in their conversation. Every now and then, I open my mouth to speak, letting her know I wouldn’t mind getting a word in. She won’t draw breath. Aidan smiles with his eyes on me, but he doesn’t interrupt her. He’s more patient than I am. His parents have seemingly taught him some manners.

Tapped on the shoulder, I spin around. Antonio beams at me from the other side of the queue rope. He wears a sharp, black suit, with a charcoal shirt and black tie.
Very dapper
. My friends notice him, too.

“
Bellissima
, Genevieve,” Antonio says happily as he leans in and kisses me on each cheek.

Heat surfaces where his lips have been, but I don’t dare turn around for fear of bringing attention to myself.

“Come,” he says, unhooking the rope partway down the queue. “Let’s have that drink.” As he ushers us in, everyone looks at me all wide-eyed.

“Way to go, Eevie,” Crystal says, patting me on the back as we walk in towards the bar.

“What?” I say with cheeky smirk. “I
know
people.” We both cackle like evil witches who’ve had too much to drink. I put my arm around her, and kiss her forehead as we follow behind Antonio. He leans over and talks to a bartender, who promptly lines up shot glasses. He takes a frosty bottle from the freezer. Is this the limóncello he told me about? The bartender carefully fills each glass with a pale lemon-coloured liquid, and hands one to each of us, including Antonio.

“What shall we drink too?” Crystal yells out excitedly. Antonio holds his glass high.

“To
la bellissima
, Genevieve,” Antonio shouts. Everyone looks a little puzzled. “The very beautiful Genevieve,” he translates, and everyone looks to me and raises their glass and yells …

“To Eevie!” I cover my eyes in embarrassment, heat emanating from my face.
Kill me now.
We all drink our shots together. The limóncello is ice-cold, and deliciously sweet, but the aftertaste packs a punch. The tingling warmth spreads from my belly, out to my limbs. Everyone vocalises their enjoyment.

Dean comes over, and hooks his arm around my shoulders. “Friends in high places, huh,” he says in my ear.

“Yeah, something like that,” I reply with a fleeting smile.

“So, how’s Jon?” he asks, and looks around the room, like he couldn’t care less about my answer. It seems a strange question to ask. I’m not sure why he even wants to know.

“Great thanks,” I answer with enthusiasm.

“Oh … good,” he says, a short-lived smile passing over his lips. My eyes flick over to Crystal, trying to get her attention. I’m not interested in talking to Dean. I’d rather be on the dance floor. Crystal comes over and hugs me, causing Dean to stand back. Leila barrels over to us, adding her own hug.

“I think it’s time to dance,” I yell at the girls. The music is pretty loud, the club now in full swing.

“Ladies, somethin’ for dessert,” Aidan says, holding a cocktail in each hand. He passes one to Leila and Crystal, and then leans back to the bar and returns with another.

“What is it?” I ask as he hands me the cocktail.

“A caprioska.”

I take a sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious. Thanks.” My mouth tingles with the cool refreshing taste of fresh lime, a hint of sweetness, and a sharp hit of vodka.

“Pleasure,” he says.

“Do you want some?” I ask, pointing the straw in his direction.

A smile meets the corner of his eyes, and he chuckles. “Nah, I’m good, you enjoy.”

His eyes don’t leave my mouth as I wrap my lips around the straw. I should tell him it’s rude to stare, but I don’t want him to stop. Is that bad?

The DJ has put on one of my favourite songs: “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah”. As the familiar bass kicks in, I order Crystal and Leila to drink up. We quickly finish, hand our glasses to the boys, and hurry to dance floor that is throbbing with gyrating bodies.

Crystal never fails to disappoint, bringing life to the dance floor. You’d think she was auditioning for
High School Musical
or something. The boys watch with amusement. I don’t know whether it was the shot, or the potent cocktail I just devoured in record time, but I dance like I don’t give a shit who watches, either. We sing loudly along to the lyrics.

We thrash around on the dance floor, and after what feels like ages I motion to the girls that it’s time for another bathroom stop. We battle the crowd to the ladies, and after getting to the front of the queue, I comb through my hair with my fingers. Guess I could look worse. After taking an unladylike drink of water from my cupped hands under the tap, I dry my mouth and apply a little lip gloss.

“We’d better see what state these boys are in,” Crystal says.

She’s right. They can get carried away sometimes.

The boys have moved to the lounge area next to the bar. Rob and Dean are loud and animated in conversation, so they’ve probably had their fill.

“I’ll get us some vodkas,” Crystal says, moving over to the bar, hooking Leila’s arm to take her along.

I stroll closer to the boys, trying not to focus on my throbbing feet. Dean looks up and rushes over, nearly knocking me on my arse as he tackles me in a hug. He squeezes tight.
Seriously!
What’s his problem? I know he’s a friend, and he knows I’m with Jon, yet he continues to be friendlier than he should.

“Let go, Dean,” I warn, hoping I don’t have to get nasty. I don’t want the night to end like this. I’ve had such a great time.

Still in his hold, he playfully bites me on the neck running his tongue up to my ear.
Now he’s gone too far.
I squirm, managing to release myself from his tight grip.

“Oh, Eevie, lighten up,” Dean remarks casually, clutching my wrist and yanking me towards him again, his arms taking me hostage.

“You wouldn’t be doing this if Jon was here,” I growl, and grind my teeth.

“Oh yeah,
Jon
, where is the loser?” he replies sarcastically, right in my face. Right now, I wish Jon
was
here. He wouldn’t put up with this.

With all my strength, I push him away, shooting him a murderous glare. “Fuck you, Dean,” I shout, barely able to hear my words over the thumping of my heart against my ribcage. Dean stumbles, but moves back towards me. I step back, holding my hands up protectively.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Aidan says in a commanding voice. His hand grips Dean’s shoulder, his knuckles white, stopping him in his tracks.
Thank God.

Dean swings around and throws a punch, but Aidan moves before his fist connects and grapples him in a headlock. “Take it easy,” Aidan says in a deep calm voice, holding him steady.

Dean slowly stops struggling, and Rob emerges and drags Dean outside by the collar of his shirt.