Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Claire
“Holy shit, is that Bryce Maylands?”
Joss, sitting opposite me, puts her drink down, eyes wide.
I’m mid-sip of my second cocktail and having a pretty good evening so far. But at her words my stomach sinks. Surely the universe wouldn’t screw with me like this.
Like I say, so far it’s been a great evening.
I managed to score a taxi to the pub, which is full of people yelling and laughing and drinking, spilling out onto the patio area along one side of the building.
My friends were waiting for me, already a couple of drinks in, and I’m doing my best to catch up.
“Bryce Maylands is a surfer.” Sal, sitting next to me, leans in, seemingly thinking she’s being helpful.
“He’s not just a surfer; he’s a fucking sex god.” Joss is still staring over my shoulder. She licks her lips. “Maybe tonight will be my lucky night.”
“I know who he is,” I mutter.
“You do?” Sal giggles. “That’s unlike you.” Both Sal and Joss think it’s hilarious that I’ve chosen to live in a surf community but have no interest in surfing. I actually think surfing itself is pretty awesome. It’s the crap around it I don’t like.
So, if Bryce Maylands, in all his green-eyed glory, has decided to show up here with his entourage of giggling girls, I’m not interested in seeing him. Not at all.
“Yeah. What’s the deal? You finally coming around to surfer boys?
You might actually pop that cherry of yours if you do, you know.
” Sal and Joss also think it’s hilarious that I’m still a virgin, though they don’t give me too much of a hard time about it.
They know me and my history too well for that.
“No,” I say, more forcefully than I mean to. “He came into the shop today.”
“And asked you to meet him at the pub?” Joss looks hopeful.
I burst out laughing. “No. Not in the slightest. I doubt he’d want to have a drink with someone who called him an asshole.”
Sal and Joss both squeal, Sal spitting out some of her drink. “You did what?”
“Oh god, I know.” My cheeks prickle with heat as I tell them what happened.
I’d been so busy catching up on their news I hadn’t had the chance yet.
I also kind of tried to put it out of my mind, to be honest, wanting to just enjoy my evening and not think about work.
But now bloody Bryce Maylands has to show up here and spoil everything.
Sal can’t stop laughing. “You are one harsh bitch, Claire,” she splutters. I know she means it with love. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“What if he complains to Anna? I can’t lose my job.”
“He doesn’t seem the type to complain,” Joss says. “But maybe you should go and apologise. And then introduce us. I wouldn’t mind a piece of him,” she continues. “I mean, come on. Look at the guy.”
I chance a look over my shoulder. Bryce is leaning against the bar, dressed in a blue Ocean’s Curl T-shirt and boardies. And he’s looking right at me. Shit. I turn back quickly, taking a long sip of my drink. “I am not going over there,” I hiss. “Are you kidding me?”
“Ladies.” Aaron from behind the bar appears next to our table, a tray of drinks in his hand. He puts three more cocktails on the table.
“We didn’t order these,” I say. “Thanks, though.”
“Don’t thank me,” Aaron says. “Thank the asshole in the blue shirt.”
“What?”
Aaron nods his head towards the bar. “That’s what he told me to say. Don’t know which of you ladies caught his eye, but good luck with it. He gets around.”
He’s gone before we can ask anything else. We all turn to the bar. This time, when Bryce sees us looking, he winks, lifting his beer.
“Fuck me,” Joss breathes. “Half your luck, Claire.”
Because, apart from the message that came with the drinks, it’s blindingly obvious that it’s me he’s looking at.
“You sure you don’t wanna go over there?” Sal whispers, which makes me want to giggle. My stomach is flip-flopping and, when Bryce grins at me, it does a sort of flutter.
Going over there feels like madness. I stand up.
“Go get him,” Joss says.
“I’m going to the ladies,” I hiss. “I need a minute.”
I need to leave. I don’t know why I’m having such a strong reaction to Bryce, but again I feel as though my world is twisting off-kilter, like when I pricked my finger. But I can’t just walk out.
As I make my way across the crowded room, I see Bryce straighten up, an expectant expression on his face. But it changes as I go past him, heading towards the bathrooms. Then a hand grabs my arm, pulling me through the crowd.
“What the hell?” I resist, but then I realise who grabbed me. My whole body suddenly feels as though it’s covered in ice. I can’t move.
It’s him.
My ex.
Bryce
The Inlet pub has changed a bit over the years, but it’s still got a great view of the sunset, looking from the hilltop out to sea.
Still smells the same, too, despite the latest makeover. Beer and good times. A hint of sunscreen. I’ve been coming here since I was tall enough to blag my way inside, had many a drink at the long bar. Had a few kisses in the car park too. And in other places.
It’s crowded tonight; all the tables on the patio are full and there’s not much space to move inside either. Matt and Kylie are already heading for a spot at the bar when I see her.
The girl from the shop.
She’s wearing the same shorts, but this time with a turquoise tube top, her slender tanned shoulders bare. As she turns, looking over her shoulder with those ocean-dark eyes, I meet her gaze.
And something sparks between us. At least, that’s how it feels, a bit like a firework in my chest. What the hell?
She turns back to her friends, both of whom are also looking at me. Okay. So that’s how it’s going to be, is it? I head to the bar and join Matt and Kylie. When the bartender comes over, I place my order, pointing out the table. “Tell them it’s from the asshole in the blue shirt.”
Matt raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. Kylie grins, then shakes her head. “What are you playing at now?” she says, the words full of affection. “Hasn’t all your messing around already got you in enough trouble?”
I shared my woes with Matt and Kylie when I got back to their place after my surf.
Matt, after laughing his head off, punched me in the arm and told me to get my shit together.
Kylie was more sympathetic, concern in her eyes.
I hate worrying her. And I know they’re right.
But something in me can’t resist playing around.
“Just watch and learn,” I say. The girl gets to her feet, and I wait, confident that in a few moments I’ll finally be able to talk to her and get a bit closer to those fabulous tits.
But, instead of coming to the bar, she bypasses me, heading towards the ladies’. Kylie splutters into her drink.
“Yeah, you’re a real master, Bryce,” she giggles.
I don’t understand. I watch the girl heading across the room, my brows drawing together.
Then someone grabs her by the arm, pulling her away.
It’s a tall guy, dressed in black jeans and some sort of baggy shirt, his long dark hair tied up in a bun on top of his head.
Looks like a tosser, I think, as I throw the rest of my drink back.
If that’s her type then I’m not going to bother.
Then I catch a glimpse of her face. She looks, and there’s no other word to describe it, terrified. Her friends are already getting to their feet, looking concerned. But I’m closer.
I put my drink down and push through the crowd, following the guy as he pulls her towards the doors. I’m gaining on them and make it outside just after she does.
“Leave me alone!” Her voice is trembling, and she’s trying to pull her arm free. “And stop texting me!”
She’s still fierce, I’ll give her that. But he’s a lot bigger and stronger than she is.
“No-one loves you like I do,” I hear him say. “Why can’t you understand that? We’re meant to be together.”
“We aren’t!” She tries to pull away again, but he jerks her back to him. I’ve had enough.
“Hello, darling, I’ve been looking for you.” I put my arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her soft hair. She smells of flowers, her skin satin-soft. “This guy bothering you?”
“Claire? Who the fuck is this?”
Claire. So that’s her name. The guy is still holding her wrist, and I can see red marks where his fingers dig into her. I push down my rage. Manipulative violent jerks like this push my buttons, for all sorts of reasons. But Claire is tense against me, and I don’t want to make a scene.
“I’m her boyfriend. So why don’t you let her the fuck go, before you and I need to have words.” I keep my voice low, but put enough menace into it. He knows I’m not joking; I can see by the way his eyes widen.
“Claire?” His voice is pleading now.
She glances up at me with those sea-blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes. She licks her lips, then turns to the guy. “That’s right,” she says, sounding defiant, though I can feel her trembling. “This is Bryce.”
Hearing her say my name does something to me, low down. I try and keep hold of myself. This isn’t the time.
The guy’s face crumples as he looks from her to me. He’s tall, but I’ve got a couple of inches on him and a lot more muscle. “What the fuck?” His voice breaks. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Why should I?” Claire’s trembling subsides as she leans into me, sliding an arm around my waist. “We broke up six months ago. You need to move on, Simon. Let it go.” Her voice softens, kindness in it.
My heart clenches. This guy doesn’t deserve that from her, not the way he was manhandling her.
He’s let go of her arm, but I can still see marks on it.
“Yes, Simon,” I say, still keeping that ring of menace in my voice. There are a few people looking at us now. Shit. Someone has their phone out. I need to shut this down, and quickly. “It’s time to move on.”
“Prove it.” He folds his arms.
“Prove it?” I am so ready to hit this guy. But I can already hear how pissed my agent is going to be if I do. So I unclench my fist. “Listen, mate, how about you just fuck off and—”
A soft hand comes to my face, and Claire turns, pressing herself against me. Her eyes are pleading and she starts pulling my head to hers. I realise just in time what she’s trying to do. Is she for fucking real? She doesn’t owe this guy shit.
But at the same time, her body pressed against mine is doing things to me. I’m drawn to her, sinking into those ocean eyes, my arms wrapping around her as I bend my head, unable to stop myself.
And then I’m kissing her.