Pieces of Us

Chapter 32

Dating Amity is killing me.

With her leaving in a few days, I haven’t had enough time to convince her to stop with this casual bullshit that she’s pedalling.

What’s worse is that we’ve barely had enough time to be alone together.

We had the nervous task of telling Lily and Rome that we were casually dating again. They plastered some fake-ass smiles on their faces as if they were trying for the sake of Amity to be cool with us, but I could tell they were overly cautious of my intentions. I need to make amends. I was a shitty friend for the way I cowardly dropped them and made zero effort to repair the fractures in our friendship.

When we told our dads, both were wary but accepted it was our decision.

Of course, Jas was over the moon.

Hart’s mum was blasé, neither here nor there about us. She had some news herself, dropping the bombshell that she’s coming back to the Gold Coast for a while. It understandably excited Amity, because she thought there might be a chance that her parents would be reuniting. She’s always had it in her head that they would find their way back to each other, even though Uncle Mark vehemently denies there’s anything more than friendship between them.

Then there was Billie.

I didn’t tell Amity that I met up with her. Out of respect for our history, I felt it was the right thing to do. She sobbed and kept blaming herself over the way we ended, from the incessant bullying to her deep-rooted insecurities over never comparing to Amity. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth, but I gave her closure.

Among all the chaos of reacquainting everyone with the idea of us casually dating, Amity was run ragged herself, busy signing off on her latest selection of teas and the final stages of her lingerie launch. She also had filming on her mind because she was on the phone with her agent a lot, and was sending my calls to voicemail with that exact message.

Between my latest projects and her whirlwind schedule, we didn’t really have a lot of time to meet up and explore growing feelings. Despite being time poor, I made a mammoth effort to let her know she was on my mind. I sent her old pictures of us that I’d stored in a fake photo app and protein smoothies or juices to her home throughout the day, knowing she’d probably forget to eat between calls. I was still navigating my way through her weight disorder, but I checked with Uncle Mark what her go-to drinks were that he’d observed while she was home.

For the fifth time today, I attempt to call her.

‘Hello?’ her voice comes through my Bluetooth all breathy and distracted, as if she’s doing a million and one things at once.

‘Hi, baby.’ I can’t help but smile that I get to call her that again.

‘Hi!’ Whatever she’s doing, she stops. I can hear the enthusiasm in her voice.

‘What are you doing?’ I start cruising down the highway to get home. I’ve been crashing more at Dad’s these days, knowing I’m more likely to see Amity there. It occurs to me that she hasn’t seen my own place yet, which I’d very much like to rectify before she leaves.

‘Today has been hectic, manic—any other synonym you can think of for chaotic.’ She wearily huffs out a breath. ‘It’s starting to feel so real that I have all this responsibility to get back to next week.’

Her tone worries me a little. I don’t know her response mechanism when she’s overwhelmed. ‘Do you need me to do anything?’ I offer, not knowing in the slightest how I can possibly take anything off her plate.

Silence greets me on the other end of the line. I’m almost certain we’ve been cut off. ‘Actually. I think I need a night off. Do you want to maybe hang out? We haven’t really seen each other a whole lot.’

I could be on a fucking dental billboard, the way my mouth stretches into a smile at her suggestion.

‘Fuck yes,’ I say eagerly, making her giggle.

‘Okay, well, what should we do?’

I have an idea. I’ve wanted to try this new distillery for a while, but I don’t know if it would be up her alley.

‘How do you feel about trying out a new distillery with me?’ It occurs to me that I have no idea what type of alcohol she even likes or if she just drinks it to dull the pain.

‘Sounds like a blast.’

I hesitate at my next words. ‘And it won’t…you know…set you off?’

‘I’m not an alcoholic, Linc. I can handle my alcohol. I like alcohol. It’s not a trigger or whatever, but I appreciate you checking.’ She seems glum that I asked, and I can’t have that.

‘Then in that case, what’s your favourite?’ It’s absurd that I don’t know something as simple as her favourite spirit. It also irritates me.

‘Gin, but I like vodka too.’

Perfect.

‘I know just the place then. Dress casual, and I’ll pick you up at six?’

‘Can’t wait.’

We talk all the way home. She asks me about my projects, and not because it’s my job, but because she has lived and breathed architecture and construction her whole life as I have. It’s a major turn on to be able to geek out over what I do and actually have her understand and challenge me. I reciprocate, asking about her upcoming interviews and how her filming went with Jas. She wanted Jas to get as high a mark as possible for her assignment, so she offered to do a short interview on camera as well to accompany the printed version that would get handed in.

Before I know it, I’m home.

‘You better go inside,’ Amity says.

‘How did you know I was home?’

‘I heard you switch the car off.’ She is always so attentive.

‘I’m going to have a quick shower and get dressed, okay?’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ I hear the softness in her voice. ‘Hey, Linc?’ I love it when she calls me that.

‘Yeah, Hart?’

‘This is nice….’

‘What’s nice, baby?’ I gather my laptop bag and keys, shuffling out of the car.

‘Us talking again…and being back in each other’s lives.’

A warmth spreads through my veins as I stop mid-driveway.

‘Yeah, baby, it is.’

As I approach my front door, I have a visceral need to see her in my home. ‘Hey, Hart?’

‘Hmm?’ I hear tinkling on the other end like she’s picking up make-up or jewellery or perfume or something on her dresser.

‘After our date, did you maybe want to sleep over?’ I take a stab in the dark, but I might as well have just stabbed myself in my own brain at how stupid and juvenile that request just was. A sleepover? What am I? Ten?

Luckily, she giggles again, and it’s a flirty sound.

‘Sure, Linc, let’s have a sleepover. Should I bring my night light too?’ I groan at her teasing. The first time we had a sleepover was when we were kids and I was still afraid of the dark, so Hart brought her lamp down so I would stop crying like a little bitch. I should have known she was my forever girl right then. She never told another soul about my wussy breakdown.

‘Would you? I want to see your face when I make you come on my cock, and when your mouth opens, begging for my come.’ It’s not the smoothest line I’ve ever said, but it’s enough to make her choke and cough. ‘What’s the matter, Hart? Cat got your tongue?’

Without missing a beat, she gets me, hook, line and sinker. ‘Nope, but I know another pussy that needs a tongue badly. See you soon.’ She hangs up, leaving me aching with blue balls.

Casual my ass. She’s tripping if she thinks we’re not more than casual. I just need to be patient with her until she realises it herself.

After checking with the distillery if they have any last minute availability for tonight, I whiz around my house to get ready. I also curse that my place hasn’t had a decent clean in weeks. At least the sheets are fresh and there’s no dirty laundry lying around. Sending off a quick text to Jas, I beg her to restock my fridge and pantry with all of Amity’s favourite foods. Even though I’m sure her preferences have changed in the last seven years, I still want to bring on some nostalgic memories when she’s here.

Less than an hour later, I pull up to Uncle Mark’s house. I don’t even have enough time to switch off the ignition before she comes bouncing out the front door like she’s been anticipating my arrival.

I’m equally excited and sad that this is our first date and one of our lasts before she leaves again. Still, I shove those memories out of my mind for the evening, choosing to focus on the here and now, and I have to say, it is looking like heaven.

There’s a golden glow setting upon us, the sun setting from day to dusk. The sky is painted with swirls of soft pinks and oranges, casting the most angelic light on Amity as she heads towards me. Unlike the sweltering heat of the last few weeks, tonight has a gentle breeze that blows her jet-black waves off her face.

It’s incredible how effortlessly gorgeous she is. She is in a short, sleeveless dress that is white and has red roses on it. It isn’t tight. It isn’t revealing. It’s just fun and flirty. She matches it with red wedges that tie up around her ankles, which make her legs look even more delectable. I’m having vivid fantasies of peeling her dress off and untying her shoes with my teeth. Over her shoulder, she has a small overnight bag, which sends a thrill through me.

I’m waiting at the passenger door for her, taking in this marvellous view. ‘Hi.’ She gives me a shy smile as if this really is our first date.

‘Hey, baby.’ I press a gentle kiss to her lips, groaning at the taste of her chapstick. Still the same one she used to wear all those years ago. It’s like the manufacturers knew exactly how to drive men crazy when they created the flavour. Placing a hand on my cheek, she holds my lips against hers. She doesn’t deepen the kiss with tongue but she pauses, loving her lips on mine. She pecks me once more before kissing my cheek and pulling back.

I slide her bag off her shoulder to pop it in the boot before opening her door and settling her in.

‘Ready?’ I grin at her. She doesn’t answer as she’s too preoccupied. She adjusts the air conditioner to blasting temperatures while also pushing the button for heated seats, which makes zero sense, but I enjoy seeing her make herself at home in my car. Lastly, she readjusts her chair and fiddles with the radio, only to give up and plug her own phone in.

When everything is to her exact satisfaction, she turns to me. ‘Now I am.’ I chuckle, shaking my head. ‘Where are we going, anyway?’

‘Wildflower Gin. Thought it might be nice to do a gin tasting and make our own. We’ll make all sorts of cool cocktails and have a cheeseboard and everything. Does that sound like fun?’ I hope.

We haven’t ventured into too much detail over our dating history. I wanted tonight to be original, but it never occurred to me this date might be average compared to the ones she’s been on, which leaves a sting in my chest. Will I ever be good enough for her?

‘Sounds perfect.’ She takes hold of my hand, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She gives me a little squeeze, holding whatever she wants to really say in. I might not know everything about her, but I know her telltale signs when she still has more to say but is too polite to.

‘What’s on your mind?’ I’m itching to be able to read her mind again.

‘Whether or not you ever took Billie here,’ she sighs, dropping her head back on the headrest and letting my past infiltrate the present.

‘I would never take you somewhere I took her.’

‘You were with her for a long time. It’s inevitable.’

‘We’re on our first date. I never got to do this with you before. I wanted tonight to be special.’ It hurts to think she would assume I’d just copy and paste my past date spots.

We don’t speak for a few minutes, both needing to digest how we move forward without our past creeping in. There is something on the tip of my tongue that I can’t hold back any longer. ‘I’m afraid that tonight won’t be up to your standards,’ I blurt.

This admission shocks her face towards me. Before I let her make me feel even worse, I continue, unnecessarily smoothing my hair with one hand. ‘You’re rich and famous. The guys you hang out with are able to whisk you away to Paris at the drop of a hat. You’ve been to exotic places with Jagger and God knows who else, and I’m sure an appetiser at some of the restaurants you’re used to costs more than what I spend all evening.’

Her eyes widen then screw shut before she shakes her head. ‘No. God, no. Linc, it wouldn’t matter where you took me. It’s about the effort you make and the way you make me feel. I don’t want you to feel inadequate in any way.’ I smile weakly, but I still feel like I’m not good enough.

‘I can’t believe I’ve never taken you out on a real date. We’ve lost so much time.’

‘I know,’ she murmurs.

Needing to lighten the mood somehow, I suggest a game. ‘Let’s play question for question until we get to the distillery?’ Her eyes shine brightly as she nods enthusiastically.

‘Okay. Favourite interview so far?’

‘Tie between Ian Somerhalder and Charlie Hunnam,’ she says automatically. I roll my eyes, knowing it’s because she’s addicted to The Vampire Diaries and Sons of Anarchy. ‘Favourite home you’ve designed so far?’

I hand her my phone and tell her to flick to the folder, ‘The Amity’. She looks at me as if I’m deranged. ‘It wasn’t the first home I designed, but when I finished, I really fell in love with it and thought of you.’

She swipes through the images, zooming in on certain rooms and accents. ‘Why? Is it like the one we dreamed up?’

‘Not really, but it’s timeless, like you. Not understated but not flash. Just effortlessly stunning.’ She blows me a kiss, giddy at my description. Handing me back my phone, she waits for the next question. ‘Best experience so far?’

‘Hot air ballooning in Cappadocia.’ Her answer is as if she’s landed in a fairytale. ‘It’s enchanting. Otherworldly. The vibrant colours and mosaics of the balloons stand out against the muted tones of the rugged landscape, and when you’re up in the air, it’s just so serene. It’s just a blur of dreams, reality and fantasy woven in a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes. It’s mesmerising,’ she gushes, flicking through a folder of images from her time spent in Turkey. I’m glad she got that experience. I just wish it was with me. ‘What about you?’

‘I definitely haven’t travelled as much as you, but after everything that happened with the miscarriage, I went to Thailand by myself and did the lighting of a lantern at the Yi Peng Festival.’ She cocks her head, unfamiliar with it. ‘Thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands gather in open fields or along riverbanks, clutching intricately carved lanterns. You make a wish or a prayer for the future and then light them. I can’t explain it, but being a part of it ignited this profound sense of wonder and connection, like everyone was there for the same thing. I can’t even explain the moment when the lanterns fill with hot air and they all inflate and rise into the night sky. It’s luminous, and there’s just this sense of wonder and awe. I’ve never seen something so pretty or ethereal in my entire life. Truly magical.’

‘What did you wish for?’ It comes out as a gentle and reverent whisper.

‘To find my way back home.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘It’s always been with you.’ She casts her eyes down, taking my hand in hers again and leaving it there.

‘Tell me a place you want to go but haven’t yet?’

‘I want to swim in the Sea of Stars in the Maldives.’

Her hand descends on my thigh, the resounding slap echoing through the car.

‘Shut up! Me too! It would literally be like swimming in the cosmos. When I’ve seen videos and pictures, it actually looks like the sea is shimmering with an otherworldly glow or swirling constellations or something, even though it’s only bioluminescent plankton. Argh, can you imagine floating on your back and then looking up at the canopy of stars? It would be such an indelible reminder that the universe is so much bigger than we can ever imagine.’

It’s intoxicating, listening to her. She’s always had an unbelievable depth to her but I can tell studying journalism has opened her up to new ways of thinking about things. I saw more than just glimpses of this girl when we were together, but now it’s like her whole personality radiates it.

‘We’ll get there one day. You probably could make it happen with a snap of your fingers. Just schedule an interview there.’ I flick the blinker on, signalling our last turn, which takes us up a winding, dusty road to our destination.

‘I definitely could,’ she agrees. ‘But I want to go with my soulmate, you know. Or my other half, I guess.’ I don’t dare ask her if she pictures that person to be me.

Parking my car on a patch of dirt, we decide it will be safer if we get an Uber home, so we can both immerse ourselves in tonight’s festivities. It’s a nonplus issue, but I feel like an idiot for not thinking about it sooner.

I take her hand in mine, leading her through the front to check us in. The softness of her small hand in mine makes me feel fiercely protective, like she’s mine. She doesn’t notice but I pay immediate attention to the raucous she causes when people start noticing her. It’s disconcerting to see how little privacy she has, but she takes it all in her stride, offering polite smiles and posing for photos. What should have taken less than a minute to get from the car to the distillery takes ten.

It’s only when the owner comes out that we’re ushered inside. We learn some amazing facts about the place, like the fact that their first product was actually hand sanitiser in the midst of Covid and that the gin is infused with honey from their beehive. We take a tour of the distillery before using their state-of-the-art Alembic Pot stills to make our own. Hand-selecting botanicals, we concoct our own creations, curating it to each of our tastes. Of course, I go more tart while she goes more sweet. Next, we move onto the cocktail masterclass, which, to our surprise, incorporates Amity’s tea collection. It’s a brilliant opportunity for her to get a couple of reels and photos with the mixologists, but I think they’re more thrilled at the free publicity to millions of her followers.

By the time the cheese and cracker board comes out, we are well past tipsy. The gourmet experience is offered either indoors or by giving us a blanket to find a place to picnic outside.

‘This has been incredible,’ she muses as she rests her head in my lap. I thread my fingers through her soft strands, savouring how silky it feels.

We’ve ventured off the beaten track, opting for a little privacy.

‘It’s been pretty amazing, hey?’

‘I’ve had so much fun. I can’t believe that in a few days, I’ll be back to reality.’ When she groans this time, it’s pained.

‘What can I do to make it easier?’

‘Just don’t forget about me. I know my job isn’t easy to accept, but text me or call. I don’t want another seven years to go by and for us to still be strangers.’ Even though my back doesn’t bend this way, I lean over and give her a kiss on the lips.

‘We won’t.’

She reaches up to cup my face, which is when I spot a tattoo that I haven’t even noticed until now. Capturing her wrist in my hand, I thumb over the semicolon.

‘What’s this?’ I keep stroking, fascinated by the delicacy of it. Despite it being so dainty, I can tell it’s significant.

‘It’s my tattoo. My one and only. I got it after rehab. We all did. Everyone who helped me. It represents overcoming some sort of hardship and is a symbol of hope for those who have battled depression, anxiety, addiction and other mental health issues.’

I love how proud she is when she explains it to me. Lifting her wrist higher, I place a kiss over the spot, marking her.

‘Do you want any more tattoos, piercings or anything like that?’ It’s not something I expected from her, but I guess we never really discussed it, as it wasn’t a possibility when we were just teens.

‘Hmmm.’ She muses for a while, looking up at the celestial sky. ‘Yeah, probably. I’d get one on my ring finger. More permanent, you know? Then I think I’d get a couple more in places that are a little more hidden and forbidden, but I just don’t know what yet. You?’

‘Tattoos, yes. Piercings, no. I don’t know what type of tattoos I’d want, but I know I want them.’

We continue drinking and I feel myself getting riskier and friskier by the minute. I can’t seem to keep my hands off her. Something I’ve definitely worked out about myself is that I like taking control in the bedroom. I’m big on being the dominant one, and getting a little rough. It’s not something I’ve explicitly discussed with previous partners before, but there have been no complaints.

Even now, Amity seems to love the harshness of my fingers denting into her ass. I rock her back and forth over my unfortunately clothed, hardened cock as we heavily makeout. I can’t see what she’s wearing underneath her dress, but I sure as fuck can hear the snap when I pull her miniscule G-string back before it clashes with her skin. If her biting my lower lip doesn’t give it away that she likes what I’m doing, her words do.

‘Do you like it rough, baby?’

‘Yes.’ Her gasp in my mouth excites me.

‘How rough?’

‘Hard enough that I feel like I’ve been used.’

‘And how dirty?’

Her whisper sends a chill down my spine. ‘Filthy.’ She keeps rocking over me, getting frantic as she tugs the ends of the hairs at the nape of my neck.

Jesus, I need to know how filthy. Pulling my head back, I look to the sky, silently praying to God to give me enough strength to get home before I fuck her senseless in this field.

‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’ Slapping both her bottom cheeks and earning myself a squeal, I yank her up.

As we walk back to the distillery, I type in my address into Uber and see that it will take ten minutes for it to arrive. On the way home, we get the chattiest driver of all time. I don’t think he actually takes a breath the entire time, which absurdly adds to the sexual tension between Amity and I.

After what feels like forever, we reach my house. Holding her bag in one hand and her hand in the other, we sing our goodbyes to the driver and bolt up the driveway.

‘He didn’t stop talking!’ Amity laughs as she keeps up behind me.

‘I’m half afraid he’s going to invite himself in.’ Unlocking the door and keying the alarm off, I step aside for her to come inside. Switching on the downlights, she’s seeing a completely new part of my life for the first time. It’s not my childhood bedroom. It’s not hers. It’s something I’ve built—or bought—without her.

While it’s not our home we’ve dreamed about, it’s my place for now. Taking in the space, she swans gracefully through the house, caressing each surface she passes. Sure, there could be a lot more life injected into the space amongst all the stone tones, windows and timber textures, but it hasn’t been a focus of mine while I build up my portfolio. If anything, this is my transition home before I settle down. I never invested time because it wasn’t the home I wanted. The one I want is still with Amity.

‘It’s kind of boring,’ She calls me out, wrinkling her nose.

I scoff out a laugh at her audacity.

‘Is the bedroom any better?’ The lilt in her voice tells me she wants to skip straight past the home tour, and I’m not unhappy about it. She’s so damn sexy, and she doesn’t even know it. I’m taken aback by this new side of her. Again, I become momentarily morose when I see her growth has nothing to do with me.

‘Want to find out?’ I tease, temporarily switching off all my emo thoughts. ‘Down the hall to the left.’ I cock my head in the direction she should head. Swaying her hips, the minx entrances me with each step she takes. Her hair kisses her ass—the same ass that I hope to play with tonight. Her scent surrounds me the closer I get, wrapping me up in an intoxicating haze. As she enters the shroud of darkness, I flip the lights on again, lighting up my most intimate space. I definitely don’t think about the scores of women who have ended up in here, but rather focus on making the woman in front of me want to stay. Forever.

Again, she peruses the space. The room is a lot darker than the rest of the house, with navy sheer curtains that cast a midnight effect over the room. The same shade bedspread complements the wooden accents, and I’m rather proud of how stylish the room looks, considering I only looked up a few Pinterest boards.

Holding my breath, I’m dying to know what she thinks, or what her next move will be. We’re tipsy, but we’re not inebriated enough to get into anything we both don’t want.

‘Amity?’