Well, let him speculate. He could stew about it and wonder why I was avoiding him as long as he wanted; it was probably the very question that was dancing on the tip of his tongue.
Just as I was about to speak, Chris pushed himself off the wall and strode over to me.
He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me through the doorway of the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind us. I was barely able to gather my thoughts as Chris pressed me against the back of the door and claimed my mouth in a hot, mind-bending kiss. His lips were demanding, firm, slow, coaxing mine to open for him. I was unable to move, enticingly ensnared by him as his scorching kiss robbed me of all thought, all breath.
He broke away, breathing hard as he stared down at me and gently swept a lock of hair off my brow.
His mouth curved in triumph. “Snap out of it, Maskala.” His voice was raw, disjointed, but it was still filled with cockiness as he reached for the door handle. I stumbled aside, my legs like jelly. I touched my lips, staring after him as he made his way to the front door and left without a backward glance.
What the hell was that?
***
Amy’s eyes narrowed with worry as soon as they had locked onto me when I entered the kitchen.
She stopped mid-pour of juice into her glass. “Are you mad?” she asked.
Was I mad?
I had just had the most intensely hot pash of my life, a mind-blowing moment that had ended way too soon. My mind was still in a fog, my thoughts fragmented into a million different hazy pieces. Mad? I was so not mad.
I pulled out a kitchen stool on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, trying to keep myself from smiling dreamily.
“Tammy Maskala, you have to spill. Now.”
My eyes blinked in Amy’s direction. “Sorry?”
Amy’s lips quivered. “What is going on with you these days? I’m your best friend and I feel like I don’t know about anything in your life anymore.”
I wanted to deny it, to tell Amy she was exaggerating, but I knew she was right. Of course she was – I had been more guarded than ever these last couple of days and I couldn’t explain to her why.
If Amy was truly my best friend, I would tell her the things that plagued my thoughts. The complexities in my so-called love life, the burden of Toby and Ellie’s secret – I would, I should tell her about it all. But I didn’t want to; I wanted to keep it locked away and not talk about the things that worried me.
Then why had I wanted to tell Chris? Ha! That had worked out so well.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t know where my head’s at lately,” I lied.
Amy reached out and touched my hand. “Well, tell me where it’s at and I might be able to help.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Amy walked around the breakfast bar and propped herself on the stool beside me. “How about we start with Chris?”
She leaned on the counter, holding her chin in her hand as if settling in for the long haul.
So I did it – I unpacked all my emotions and all my frustrations and, to my surprise, something I had never voiced before, not even to myself.
“I like Chris,” I said. “I really, really like Chris.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
That was a surprise. To me, voicing that very thing was an admission of epic proportions. I had kind of expected more shock, more excitement, maybe. But it was Amy I was talking to.
I decided to disclose only the things that affected me directly, and tried to ignore the echoed laughter from the spare bathroom as Tess helped Ellie to straighten her hair. I really tried to ignore it.
“So, what are you going to do about loving Chris Henderson?” Amy grinned as she sipped on her drink, a mischievous glint in her eye.
I sighed and shook my head.
Loving Chris Henderson would be wrong. I mean, what was there about him to love? He was moody, bossy, a control freak, and that was on a good day. But there was one achingly obvious fact that haunted my every thought, every minute of every day …
Chapter Fifty-Three
Apparently I had to cut the shit and take control.
“I’m serious, Tammy, tonight’s the night. You have to seize the moment, tell Chris how you feel and just lay it all on the line. He likes you back, I know he does.”
From the moment I had finally confessed I liked Chris, Amy had nearly drowned me in these speeches. I think she was quite liking being able to do the ‘best friend’ advice thing.
“Ow! Amy, watch it.” I tilted my head to the side, wincing as she jabbed a bobby pin into my skull.
“Sorry. Anyway, seriously. Men are not complicated.” She reached for another pin from her make-up bag.
“We are talking about Chris,” I said. “I think he invented complicated.”
“There!” Amy stood back and admired her handiwork. “What do you think?”
I looked at my reflection, smiling at the unfamiliarity of my long hair cascading down my shoulders in tousled waves. She had pinned back the longer wisps of my fringe and dotted my hair with pins that shone with diamantes. I tilted my head from side to side, looking at it from every angle.
“I love it!”
Amy beamed. “You’re going to look so hot!”
“All right, who’s next?” asked Ellie as she walked into the bathroom. She slammed her giant make-up case down on the counter.
“Do Tammy. I have to go make sure my outfit doesn’t smell like mothballs.” Amy skipped out of the bathroom.
“Oh, it’s okay,” I said, “you don’t have to do my make-up.” I started to get up from the edge of the bath.
“Don’t be silly,” Ellie said, pushing me back down, “it’s what I do. Now, first we’re going to cleanse and tone.”
I bit my lip, feeling increasingly uncomfortable whenever I was around Ellie. I gritted my teeth as she worked with expert hands to clean and swab my face.
“You have the most beautiful skin. Must be all the water you drink.”
Every sentence was said more to herself than to me, because I didn’t respond.
At the end, when she was gently applying the finishing glossy layer to my lips, she said, “Pout, like this.” She pulled her lips inward as an example of what she wanted me to do. “That’s it.” She gently slid the wand over my lips, before stepping back and tilting her head with a brilliant smile. “My finest work yet. Of course, it helps when I’m working with someone as gorgeous as you.” She winked.
I wanted to hate Ellie, to openly scoff and scowl at all her words and flinch against every touch, but it was impossible. No matter what higher moral ground I chose to stomp on, one thing was clear: I couldn’t hate her, and it utterly killed me.
“Take a look,” she said with pride, motioning me toward the mirror.
I stood, expecting to see hooker-red lipstick and overly blushed cheekbones. Instead, to my utmost surprise, the make-up Ellie had used was all bronzes and natural tones. I leaned in closer to inspect the flawless job of glossy golden shades that highlighted my eyes and brought out the contours of my face. I looked amazing.
Damn her, she even did fantastic make-up.
Ellie squeezed my shoulders. “Chris’s jaw is going to hit the floor when he sees you tonight.” She beamed.
My eyes locked with hers in the reflection, narrowing in confusion.
She shrugged. “Oh please, everyone knows.”
I turned to face her. “Everyone knows what?”
“Well, there is obviously something going on between you two. I think it’s great.” She smiled brightly.
Under normal circumstances I probably would have giggled and confided in her about what had happened these last few days. But, try as I might, even though I enjoyed her company, was entertained by her careless charm and, yes, her ability to apply flawless make-up, resentment still churned in the pit of my stomach and although I had promised myself just one mo
re night of carefree, normality and fun, I couldn’t stop myself from what I was about to do.
“I’m on to you, you know,” I said coolly, causing Ellie’s big blue eyes to lock onto mine, the sparkle fading.
“What?” she breathed out, as if the mere weight of my words had knocked the wind out of her.
“Just do me a favour, okay? Just stop acting like everything is okay, because it’s insulting.”
Ellie gaped; she stammered trying to find some words, but whatever it was she wanted to say, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Thanks for the make-up,” I said emotionlessly. I walked out of the bathroom, my hands balling into fists at my sides, trying to disguise the tremor. It was a step forward. A step toward the confrontation that had to happen, that would change everything. I felt sick.
What had I done?
***
Well, one thing was for sure, I didn’t have to worry about feeling awkward around Ellie anymore, because she avoided me like the plague. She had come out of the bathroom all flushed, walked a direct line to the spare room and closed the door.
“Hurry up, Ellie, we’re heading down soon,” called Amy before fixing her gaze onto me.
“Bloody hell, Tammy, get dressed already!” She motioned me back into the bedroom.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” I walked up the long hall, trying to cut off my mind.
Stay out of it, Tammy, you already said too much, too soon. Just enjoy the night and forget. Forget about it all. Stress less!
Ha! Stress less. My mum’s advice worked through my mind like a constant drill into my brain. I shut the bedroom door and checked my phone on the charger. Several missed calls and messages appeared on my screen. I smiled as I dialled the number for home.
It rang out. I closed my eyes, hot tears burning under my lids.
Crap! Don’t cry, Tammy. Don’t. Cry. Not now. You can’t afford to screw up your make-up.
I hadn’t realised how much I was actually relying on hearing my mum’s voice. I had sent her a text to say that we had arrived safely, but I was yet to talk to her. I really wanted to before the New Year began. The line clicked over to the answering machine and I listened to my mum ramble on with a five-minute spiel about what to do in the event that she or Dad weren’t available. I had begged her for years to change it.
“Hey, Mum, just wanted to give you a call and wish you and Dad Happy New Year. I miss you heaps and I’m having a really good time.” I tried to sound convincing, but wasn’t sure I had pulled it off. “Anyway, I’ll see you when I get home. Try not to party too hard, okay? Love you heaps, bye.”
I sighed and pressed the phone to my forehead; I really needed my mum’s upbeat words to soothe me, to tell me to ‘stress less’. If my apparent mantra was to be positive, hers was not to stress. And in order to do the latter I had to be the former.
I slapped my hand defiantly on my thighs.
“Let’s do this,” I said aloud to myself. Standing and walking a proud, determined line to the wardrobe, I laid my outfit out on the bed.
No matter what happened tonight, or was going to happen tomorrow, I was going to make the most of what was left of 1999.
Like Amy had said, I was going to cut the shit and take control.
I was going to let Chris know how I felt.
Chapter Fifty-Four
It could have been the dress.
Or it could have been the champagne? Heck, it could very well have been the decision to shut off that crucial part of my brain that plagued me with worry. Whatever it was, I had never felt sexier and more bad ass than I did right now.
I had even decided to act natural around Ellie, leading the way for her to do so as well. It was almost as if we hadn’t even had the conversation in the bathroom. But of course, we had, so although we faked it pretty well, I knew tonight we wouldn’t be dragging each other onto the dance floor in the name of girl power.
As the four of us stood in the elevator, we each fidgeted with our foreign attire in the reflection of the elevator mirrors.
“Seriously, Tammy, Chris is going to freak out when he sees you,” laughed Amy.
My normal response would have been to repel any such notion, but as the glasses of champagne I’d sculled in the suite made the edges of my mind blur, I admired my shimmery white and gold skirt that fell low on my hips and the midriff top that hugged into a V falling short of my belly button. My skin was a deep brown, in stark contrast to the white of the fabric, and my hair pooled into a cascade of soft, loose curls to the middle of my back. I felt beautiful and exotic and for me that meant more than what anyone else might think. For the first time, I actually embraced the thought of dressing up, of socialising. Maybe the New Year would continue for this new Tammy. As long as the alcohol wasn’t the sole cause for my new-found confidence, that is, because that could be a problem.
The elevator came to an abrupt, stomach-plunging halt on the ground floor, and when the doors slid open we quickly moved from the claustrophobic space.
The four of us certainly were a motley crew. Ellie, with her electric blue,’80s figure-hugging dress (minus the shoulder pads), had opted to wear her long blonde hair sleek and glossy. To be honest, she needed little else to make a statement; my automatic reaction had been to tell her how great she looked, but I thought against it.
Tess looked beautiful in a powder blue baby doll dress; it looked like it was specially made for her and was by far the least outlandish of all our attires. Amy might have thought my outfit was show-stopping, but Tess would always be the one to turn heads, even if she was dressed in a paper bag.
Amy pulled off black and animal print like no other, and although she had fully intended it to be a bit of a laugh, she looked hot all the same.
“Sex on legs, coming through,” I announced as Amy rocked a seriously lethal pair of black stilettos.
“Shut up, Maskala.” She looked back at me with a smirk.
We’d aimed to stick out from the crowd, but compared to a lot of others moving around the hotel, we looked disturbingly normal.
I watched as we passed a group of guys wearing coconut shell bras and grass skirts.
We walked out of the reception area and wove our way through the curved garden path, flickering with shadows from tiki torches along its sides. We heard the distant screams and splashes of late night swimmers who still lounged and hung out by the pool bar.
“Where are we going?” Tess asked as we followed Amy further and further into the depths of the resort and its immaculately kept garden.
“The bar’s down near the second pool,” Amy called back, as she stepped carefully along the stone path. I, myself, gloried in the atmosphere of the summer’s evening. It was definitely a lot cooler along the coast than it was at home. I ran my hands along the tops of the foliage that ran along the edges of the path; I didn’t have to worry about heels with my beaded, casual sandals and I felt free and fabulous in my sexy attire. I certainly could never have worn this to the Onslow. But none of that mattered here. We passed another group of guys on the path, all wearing sombreros and Hawaiian shirts. They stood to the side and let us pass, bowing graciously.
“Ladies.”
We smiled politely and ignored the wolf whistles and invitations to party with them, and followed the distant music that flowed out from the bar.
Soon we saw the glow of the bar up ahead. Double doors led into a darkened building, with only the pulsing lights of a music station lighting the space in neon flashes. It was no darker than Villa Co-Co had been, but the Point Shank Beach Resort bar was clean, open, airy and far more tropical than a couple of potted palms. If anything, this place should have been called Villa Co-Co, but instead the neon sign by the entrance door read ‘Hibiscus Nightclub’.
A very handsome staff member waited by the door with a tray of complimentary cocktails and a glow-in-the-dark wristband each (probably tagging us so we didn’t double dip on free cocktails, but nevertheless all given with an inviting smile).
Tess was the last to take a cocktail from his tray – it matched the electric blue of Ellie’s dress.
Tess sipped it, looking around in wide-eyed wonder. “This is what heaven must be like.” She grinned.
I had thought finding the boys was going to be as easy as walking into a bar – there they’d be, propped up against it – but it seems that there were a few more bodies to look through than anticipated. Apparently, the entire guest list at the resort had converged at the bar for pre-celebration cocktails. We carefully pushed our way through the crowd, ensuring as best we could that we didn’t spill our drinks – the last thing I needed was a blue streak down my front.
“Do you see them?” shouted Ellie above the music.
I shook my head. “Amy, are you sure this is the right bar?”
“This is the only one here,” she said. “That I know of.” She shrugged while involuntarily swaying to the beat of the music.
“So much for a grand entrance,” laughed Tess.
“Well, let them find us,” I said and in that moment it was like a light bulb lit above all of our heads.
“Yeah, let them come to us,” agreed Amy, finishing the last of her cocktail.
I followed suit, cringing against the pure alcohol at the bottom of my glass before I slammed it down triumphantly on a nearby table. I pointed to the dance floor.
“Ladies, floor, dance, now,” I declared.
Unlike what dominated the jukebox at the Onslow with the usual ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ or the odd Cold Chisel number, we gloriously revelled in the catchy little number of ‘Rock the Boat’ by Hues Corporation.
We were so lost in the glorious throes of the music, all trying to outdance each other with shimmies and other questionable dance moves, we had completely forgotten about the boys. But then out of nowhere a hand scooped around Amy’s waist and whizzed her around in a screaming flurry.
Sean.
How we didn’t see him coming, I will never know. His six-foot-three frame stood out above the crowd even more than usual as he was dressed in a sleek, single-breasted black suit with a white shirt and thin black tie. I know I joked before about sex on legs, but, seriously, Sean was raw, and dangerously handsome tonight. Amy seemed to agree; I could see it in the way her eyes lit up, despite how she laid into him with a slap to the upper arm.