Chapter 12
12
‘Looking gorgeous, ladies,’ Nico says, as Berry and I join him and Adam on deck the following evening.
I’m exhausted and it took a while for Berry to convince me to go out again tonight, insisting I wear one of her dresses.
It’s very short. My legs are tanned from being in the sun, and I was surprised by how happy I felt when I looked in the mirror on the back of our closet door.
Adam looks good too in a black polo shirt that shows off his tan, jeans and trainers without socks.
Maybe at the club there’ll be a chance for us to sneak away together.
I’d like to slide my hands up under that shirt.
I spent most of the day cleaning out a cupboard literally called the doghouse, and I had plenty of time to think.
There’s nothing wrong with a crush.
It’s normal. Healthy even.
Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.
I have a boyfriend. He’s hot.
It’s fine.
Berry’s wearing what is effectively a mesh dress and sandals tied up her calves.
It’s fine. I’m fine.
A few minutes later, Liam joins us and finally Louise, in a little black dress and thigh-high boots, her hair loose around her shoulders.
Her eye make-up makes her already huge eyes look like Disney eyes.
She looks about ten years younger.
‘Is this everyone?’ she asks.
‘Ben and Carlo said they might join later,’ Nico tells her.
‘The cab’s already waiting.
’
We follow Nico through the marina to the cab.
The sun has set but the air is still warm, the sky a deep purple-blue, like a bruise.
Berry is on my left, singing along to SZA’s ‘Kill Bill’ on the radio.
Her thigh is warm against mine; I shift in my seat to put a bit of space between us.
Nico and Liam are up front, talking to the driver about football, I think.
I glance over at Louise.
She’s looking out of the window, her leg bouncing with excitement or nerves or just anticipation.
I don’t know which.
I relax against Adam, my body softening, my weight against his side.
And I feel him tense.
He leans forward so suddenly that I almost tip over into the space behind him.
‘Did Yamal play?’ he asks the other guys, the driver.
The rejection stings, even though I know we’re in a car full of colleagues and he doesn’t want to get caught.
But no one’s interested.
And it’s not like I was planning to climb into his lap and ride him all the way to town; I just wanted a bit of physical contact.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
The club is dark and loud and absolutely heaving.
As we push our way through the crowd, Berry turns back to shout something at me, her eyes shining as the lights – blue, red, pink – strobe across her face.
‘What?’ I yell and it makes me laugh.
She shakes her head, laughing too, and makes a ‘drink?’ gesture with her hand.
Shrugging, I try to convey that I’ll come with her to the bar.
Nico and Louise have already disappeared and Adam and Liam are heading to the bar too, so we follow them and join the crush of bodies waiting to be served.
Berry passes me a bottle of San Miguel, cold and wet with condensation.
I press it to my neck, just under my jaw – it’s really hot in here; a trickle of sweat is already making its way down my back and we’ve only just arrived.
Beer in one hand, Berry grabs my wrist with the other and pulls me out onto the dance floor.
She twirls, throwing her head back, her raspberry hair swinging and then I’m dancing too, laughing as a young Spanish guy struts between us and slides his arms around another guy in a gold crop top and booty shorts.
At the opening notes of ‘Padam Padam’, everyone cheers and Berry throws her arms up over her head, some of her beer overflowing and running down her hand.
She licks it off, her tongue slipping between her fingers.
I think of her again with the woman in Barcelona.
The woman’s mouth on Berry’s hand.
Berry’s mouth –
‘I love this song!’ she shouts, bringing me back to the present.
‘Me too!’ I gulp my beer.
Berry moves up close to me and we dance together, rolling our hips, our shoulders, grinning at each other as we mouth the words.
The beat moves through my body and everything else – work, my borked neck, Adam, the fact that we have to be up again in about seven hours – just goes away.
We dance as Kylie transitions into ‘Rush’ by Troye Sivan, through the Adam Lambert cover of ‘You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)’ , the Scissor Sisters’ ‘Filthy/Gorgeous’.
I’ve finished my beer, my hair is stuck to the back of my neck and my face is burning.
I press my bottle to my cheek, but it’s not even cold any more.
Berry raises an eyebrow and mouths, ‘You good?’
I press my lips up to her ear.
‘Too hot!’
She nods and slides her hand into mine, guiding me off the dance floor.
‘I want to keep dancing!’ I shout, but she takes no notice, leading me through the crowd.
I let myself be led.
And then we’re outside on a terrace dotted with palm trees in planters with fairy lights threaded through the branches.
It’s busy with people smoking and vaping and just standing around, presumably getting some air too.
I follow Berry to the far corner where the view stretches over tile rooftops all the way to the ocean and we sit on a bench.
‘Next time we come out, do not let me wear heels,’ I tell her, clenching and stretching my toes in my ankle boots.
‘Noted. Are you okay? Just too hot? How’s your neck?
’
I roll my head, tentatively.
I tried to use the almost-constant stiffness in my neck – caused, I think, by the daily hoovering – as a reason not to come tonight, but Berry was unmoved.
‘Turn a bit,’ Berry says.
‘Let me see what I can do.’
I shift my body away from her slightly and then her hand is on the side of my neck, her fingers pressing gently, thumb pushing more deeply into the tight muscle of my shoulder.
I know I should stop her, but it feels so good.
‘Often when your neck is stiff, it’s not actually your neck that’s the problem,’ she says, her voice just behind my ear.
‘It could be your shoulder, your back, even your hips. It’s all connected.
’
Her fingers move up behind my ear as her thumb presses a line down the side of my neck.
I automatically drop my head to the left and I feel Berry’s breath on my skin.
‘Feels good, yeah?’
I can’t even answer her.
Because it feels amazing.
My mind is a jumble of the woman in Barcelona, the dream I had the other night, Berry lying back in the pool, water rippling over her bare skin.
I imagine her kissing me where her fingers are currently pressing.
Of her hands moving over my shoulders, down to my breasts.
Of her thumb press, press, pressing up my inner thigh.
I lean forward, roll my shoulders back, shake her hands off me.
I glance back but don’t meet her eyes.
‘That’s much better.
Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ She stretches.
‘It’s so cool out here.
’
I can’t help looking then, as she tips her head back, closing her eyes, long eyelashes feathered over her cheeks, the moonlight highlighting her cheekbones.
We’re sitting close enough that I can smell the beer on her breath, her salty sweat mixed with the cherry perfume she always wears.
She opens her eyes, catches me staring and smiles, her tongue between her teeth.
She glances down at my mouth and I feel something like a sigh rumble through my chest. I can’t move.
But even if I could, I don’t think I would.
I want to know what she’s going to do.
Her gaze flicks up to my eyes and then back down to my mouth and then she’s leaning forward and touching her lips to mine.
Just that slight brush, that gentle sensation, floods through my entire body, like the first sip of beer on a hot day.
Or stepping into a hot shower on a cold day.
Like she’s flipped my entire body chemistry.
She leans in a little more, pressing a little more firmly, her lips sliding as she turns her head and that’s when I wake up to what’s happening and pull back.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ I say, before my brain has entirely come back online.
‘No?’
I shake my head.
‘It’s okay,’ she says, smiling.
‘You know, “Don’t screw the crew” is more of a guideline than a rule.’
I try to smile in response, but my mouth feels wobbly.
I want to touch my lips, check if I can still feel her kiss.
‘It’s not that,’ I say instead.
‘I’m not . . . I don’t .
. .’
Her eyes widen slightly.
‘Not into girls?’
I shake my head again.
‘Oh shit. Sorry. I just thought . . .’ She shakes her head.
‘I thought I was getting flirty vibes. That’s totally on me.
I misunderstood.’
‘No, it’s probably me.
I’m really sorry. I –’
‘Honestly, don’t even worry about it.
We can just pretend this never happened, yeah?
’
She stands up, ready to head back inside the club. ‘Okay,’ I lie.