Chapter Fourteen
Elora
We have a cup of coffee and another panini in the café, then take a stroll around the botanic gardens while we wait for our planetarium show.
Linc doesn’t mention kissing me, so I don’t either. We’re so good at communicating in every other way, but with this, I feel tongue-tied, and I don’t know how to broach the subject. What would I ask? Why are you kissing me? I can imagine his answer: because I want to. I don’t think he’s thought any further than that. He’s not wondering where it’s going to lead or how it’s going to make me feel; he just felt like kissing me, so he did.
Men!
Halfway around the gardens, his phone rings, and he answers it and starts chatting to the other person, who I soon realize is Joel.
While he talks, I sulk a little. Not because he kissed me. But because I want more, and I don’t want to ask for it, because I know he’s going to turn me down, and I can’t bear the thought of that rejection. He won’t sleep with me because he’s leaving soon, and I’m sure he thinks it would be cruel to go that final step and then walk away.
And I’m not even sure I want him like that.
Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I do, with every fiber of my being. But I don’t know what going to bed with him would be like. He’s obviously experienced in the bedroom, and although he’s a nice guy, he is a pirate, and his personality is naturally dominant. That half-excites and half-scares me. What if I panic and freeze? I don’t want to disappoint or frustrate him.
Ah, jeez, how do I get over this enormous barrier that sits in front of me like Hadrian’s Wall? At the moment it’s not just keeping out the unwanted barbarians, it’s stopping all the good traffic as well. Imagine all those Roman citizens eager to visit Vindolanda for shopping, and that fucking wall isn’t letting any of them through.
“Er, yeah,” Linc says. “She is.”
I glance at him, but he’s looking away, across the gardens. I’m vaguely aware that he’s been telling Joel about Edmund, and how he’s nervous about going to see him in Queenstown.
“Yeah,” Linc continues, “Arrowtown.” He listens for a bit. Glances at me. “Uh…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe. Yeah, I know. I’m sure she would. Of course. I don’t know… Well, yeah, I can see that…” He sighs. “All right. I’ll let you know. Speak soon, bye.” He stops walking and ends the call. Then he looks at me.
“What?” I ask, amused.
He studies me for a moment. He seems to be trying to make a decision. Then, eventually, he says, “Do you want to come to Queenstown with me?”
I stare at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was telling Joel how I’m nervous about meeting Edmund, and he said you should go with me because you’re good in situations like that. And you’d also be able to come to Arrowtown with me and talk to the guy about the Bell Ring. He really wants you to find it for your mum.”
“Well, yeah, it would mean a lot to her. But…” I swallow hard, trying to fight the swell of excitement I feel at the thought of spending more time with him. “You don’t want me tagging along.”
He shrugs, his lips curving up. “I don’t know. The last few days have been fun. It might be nice to spend some more time together.”
Our eyes meet. My heart does a little Pas de Bourrée. More time together might mean more kissing. Which could mean…
He turns away. “Well, think about it. Come on, it’s nearly six and the program’s about to start.”
I think about it all the way through Ngā Tohunga Whakatere —The Navigators—a planetarium film about Māori, Pasifika, and European navigation toward Aotearoa New Zealand. It’s an amazing film, but the presence of the man in the seat next to me overrides any thoughts I might have had about the stars. I keep my arm on the rest next to his so I can touch him, wanting to feel his skin against mine. I can smell his cologne. He’s driving me crazy.
When the film ends, we spend some time in the shop as Linc wants to buy a few things. I pretend to flick through a book on constellations, but it’s hard to concentrate when all I want to do is talk about Queenstown.
Eventually I see him at the counter, and when he’s paid for his purchases, we go outside into the early evening air.
“Got you a present,” he says, and hands me a small bag.
“Oh!” I genuinely wasn’t expecting anything. I open the bag and extract a pair of stud earrings. My eyes widen. Oh my God, I saw these in the locked cabinet. They were nearly two thousand dollars a pair!
They’re made of white gold, each earring constructed from two posts crossed not quite at right angles, with all four ends of the posts bearing small diamonds to make the Southern Cross or Crux constellation that’s only visible in the Southern Hemisphere.
“Linc,” I gasp. “These are so expensive!”
“You’re worth it.” He smiles. “I thought they’d be a nice reminder of our time together.”
I concentrate on examining them while I think about his words. Sometimes when we were young, he’d leave me a written message like ‘Thank you for the loan of the book, I really enjoyed it,’ followed by a few lines describing what he’d read. It would seem very basic and boring, but then I’d get a slight whiff of lemon juice and, excited, I’d hold the message over a candle flame, and the secret words would jump into life—usually something a little wicked meant to tempt me like ‘if you want to skip Bible class at ten we’re going for a hike. Meeting by the bridge with chocolate!’
Just like then, I feel I have to read between the lines to find the real message. Is he reminding me that his time here is limited? That he can’t or won’t get involved with me because of that, no matter how much either of us want to?
I look up and meet his eyes. His expression is gentle but direct. Yes, that is what he’s saying.
“They’re beautiful,” I say softly. “Thank you.” I take them out, remove my present earrings, and slot the new ones into my ears. “What do you think?”
“Stunning,” he says. “The earrings, too.”
I give him a wry look. “Come on, let’s get back to the car.”
We don’t say much as we walk. I’m so touched by the gift, but it makes me sad, too, because of their meaning.
When we get back to the car, I stop and turn to him, unable to hold it in any longer. “Can I say something?”
“Of course,” he says, surprised.
“You said we can talk about anything, right?”
He leans back against the car and nods, lifting his sunglasses up onto his hair. His eyes look very green in the sunlight. He’s so gorgeous. I already know I’m half in love with him all over again. But I’m not fourteen now. I might not have tons of experience, but I’m not na?ve and stupid. I know we’re not talking about writing letters in invisible ink and trekking through the mountains anymore.
I summon every ounce of courage I own and blurt it out. “I think you know that I like you, and maybe you like me a bit too, but you’re trying to tell me that nothing can happen between us because you’re leaving soon. And I just want to say I understand, and I know it’s not going to go any further than kissing. And that’s okay. I mean, I wish it could, kind of, but even kissing is great, and I don’t want you to stop kissing me because you’re worried I’m going to think it’ll lead to more. I’d like to go to Queenstown with you and meet your real dad, and just spend a bit more time with you before you have to go to your conference. Maybe you think of me as a sister, I don’t know—we did know each other when we were very young, but even so, I don’t think of you like a brother. You’re my friend, first and foremost. So if you’d like me to come along for company, I just want to say that I’m not expecting anything, and you don’t have to worry. But… if you do want to kiss me occasionally, that’s absolutely fine, you’re not going to break my heart, I know you’re going, but I haven’t kissed anyone before, and you’re really good at it—”
And then I have to stop because he takes my face in his hands and crushes his lips to mine.
My exclamation comes out muffled, and I lift my arms around his neck and return the kiss with enthusiasm. I don’t care that we’re in public, that it doesn’t mean anything, or that it isn’t going anywhere. All that matters is here and now, and Linc is with me, and I want to kiss him, so why shouldn’t I?
His tongue slides against mine, and he cradles my head gently but firmly, suggesting he doesn’t want me to move away. I’m more than happy to stay, and press up against him, on my tiptoes, just enjoying being near him, being intimate in this way with someone I feel safe with and trust.
When we eventually move apart, I’m breathless and my heart is thumping.
“Wow,” he says. “Are you sure you haven’t kissed anyone but me? You’re pretty good at it.”
I nudge him. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not.” He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against him. “That was a very sweet speech,” he murmurs, his gaze caressing my face.
“You said you believe in getting things out in the open. I’d rather we’re clear about everything.”
“Me too.”
“So you do like kissing me?”
He gives me a look that says Don’t be an idiot . “Of course I like kissing you.”
“You don’t think of me as a sister?”
“No. Definitely not. More… a friend with kissing benefits.”
I smile happily. “I like that.”
He returns the smile, brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
My face warms at both the compliment and the way he phrases it.
He grins. “Still innocent little Elora. You realize I’ve always tried to make you blush?”
I laugh and push him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He closes his eyes. Why’s he doing that? Oh, I think he’s concentrating on where I’m stroking his chest, just an innocent touch on top of his tee, splaying out my fingers and brushing them over the muscles I can feel beneath the cotton.
What happened in his childhood must have had an effect on him. The constant abuse from his father. The lack of care from his mother. From what I remember, he didn’t have grandparents nearby, and no aunts or uncles to come to the rescue, as both his parents had moved away from where they were born. He and Sean got on okay, but Sean was always Don’s favorite, and I know that affected Linc’s relationship with his brother. When you grow up touch starved, I would think you must long for any form of physical contact.
“Why aren’t you married with six kids?” I ask, puzzled. “I understand why you and Sophia decided to part, but you must have been with women who were interested in something long term?”
He opens his eyes and studies me. “Not met the right girl, I guess.”
I look down, at the collar of his tee, the hollow of his throat, and the curve of his Adam’s apple. I’d like to kiss him there, but I’m not brave enough to do that yet.
My stomach rumbles, loud enough for us to hear it, and we both laugh.
“We should eat,” he says. “Was Fraser right? Do you really not like going to restaurants? I assumed that meant you don’t like being around people, but you’ve just spent an hour in the Planetarium, and you seem okay.”
“That’s true,” I reply, with some surprise. “I feel safe with you, though, so that helps.”
Something flickers in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can catch it. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Come on, then.”
We get in the car and drive back into town, and I park back near my apartment, then we walk to Courtenay Place and choose an Italian restaurant. As we walk in, Linc takes my hand, and he keeps hold of it as he enquires whether they have a table for two, and also as we follow the waiter to a table in the window. He’s trying to reassure me, and I appreciate the gesture. I also like being able to touch him, even in such an innocent way.
I opt for Lasagna, and he chooses a Carbonara, and we eat our meals slowly as we chat about our day, our conversation meandering from one topic to another with the ease of two people who’ve known each other a long time.
When we’re done, Linc orders a Tiramisu for two.
“Are you flirting with me?” I ask as we dip our spoons into the creamy coffee dessert together.
“Yep.” He has a spoonful and his lips curve up.
“Fair enough.” I also have a spoonful and sigh at the rich, creamy taste.
“Careful,” he scolds, “it contains rum. I’ll have to carry you home.”
“That’s the unfortunate side effect of not drinking. One teaspoon of alcohol and I’m immediately singing ‘Show me the way to go home.’” I grin as he laughs. “So, what’s the plan for Queenstown, then?”
“I’ll book a flight,” he says. “And a hotel for a couple of nights.” He gives me a direct look. “I can book you to fly straight back if you’d rather, if you’re uncomfortable staying away.”
“I’d like to stay, if it means I can go to Arrowtown with you, too.”
“Okay.” He scoops up another spoonful of dessert. “Do you travel much?”
“No. Hardly at all. I drive back to Hanmer Springs about once a month. I have done it on my own, but it’s usually with Fraser or Joel. That’s it, really.”
“Are you okay staying in a hotel?”
I concentrate on collecting as much of the creamy dessert as I can from around the edge of the glass dish. “Yeah.” It’ll be tough for me to stay in a strange room where the door can be locked and there’s no way out. But I’ll cope.
He eats the Tiramisu while he thinks. “So be honest. What would you rather me book you? A room next to mine? One on another floor? Or would you rather we share an apartment with separate rooms so I can… you know… be there if you need me? I’m not sure if that would make you feel more or less unsafe.” He’s half-joking and half-serious.
“Would you do that?” Relief floods me at the thought. “I’d feel much safer if you were there.”
He meets my eyes, his brows drawing together. “Of course. I’ll sleep on the floor outside your room if you want me to, so I can protect you from intruders.”
That makes me smile. “You’d do that?”
“I would. I’d do anything for you.” He eats a spoonful of Tiramisu. His eyes hold a touch of mischief.
I press my lips together and have a swig of my Sprite. “Do you think you’ll be able to get a flight that quickly?”
“I’ll book a charter flight.”
My eyes widen. “Really? Wow. That’s flash.”
“I’m not flying cattle class when I have the money,” he scoffs.
“Did you fly here business class, then?”
“First class,” he says with a touch of the old Linc swagger, the cool businessman who gets everything he wants. Then his eyes light up. “It was amazing. It’s like having your own apartment on the plane. A real bed and everything. So cool.” Now he speaks with the enthusiasm of someone not used to money. He never had any when he was young, having come to the school on a grant, and I know he often felt conscious that my brothers and I—while being limited to an allowance—had pretty much whatever we wanted. We were always happy to share with him and the others, but he was a little stiff with gifts, with the pride of those who don’t have much to begin with.
“Jeez,” I say. “I can’t imagine flying all that way. Twenty-four hours?”
“Yeah, plus the stopover in Dubai. Much easier when you have a bed.”
“How much did that set you back?”
“New Zealand dollars? Ah, about seventeen grand, return.”
I whistle, and he looks smug. He likes being rich. Of course he does! Who wouldn’t?
“So… flying to Queenstown doesn’t bother you?” he asks.
“No, I don’t get claustrophobic as such. On the plane I’d be with you, anyway. If it wasn’t a charter flight, I don’t think I’d be able to go to the bathroom.” I stop and redden. “Sorry, TMI.”
“No, it’s okay, it helps me understand. Well, if you need to go, I could always come in with you.”
“Linc!”
“What?”
“Like I could pee with you watching.”
“I’d look the other way.”
“With you listening, then. Jeez.”
“I’m just saying, whatever you need… It’s a tough job, but I’d be happy to do it.” He makes himself laugh then, and my lips curve up.
“You’re incorrigible,” I scold.
“And you love it.” He scrapes up the final spoonful of Tiramisu and holds it out to me. “Go on, finish it off.”
I lean forward and close my lips around the spoon, only realizing then that it’s his, and it’s been inside his mouth. That should gross me out, but it doesn’t because he gave it to me without thinking, and anyway his tongue has already been inside my mouth, and oh my God now I blush for real.
“Wow,” he says, retrieving the spoon and lowering it to the dish. He looks amused as he studies my cheeks. “You really know how to blush.”
“Shut up.”
He leans on the table, his gaze caressing my face. I glare back at him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says softly.
“Go away.”
“Were you thinking about kissing me?”
“Absolutely not.”
He chuckles at the obvious lie.
“Want to do it again?” he asks.
“Oh my God. Stop it. You can’t tease me like this when we go to Queenstown. I’ll permanently be the color of a tomato.”
He grins. “Absolutely I can. I like you flustered over me.” He winks. “You want a coffee?”
“No, I’m full up.”
“Come on then, I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”
He pays, refusing my offer to go halves, and we walk slowly back. The streets, bars, and restaurants are busy, filled with couples and friends talking and laughing.
Linc holds out his hand. I look at it, then up at his face. He smiles. So I slip my hand into his, and we walk like any other boyfriend and girlfriend who are enjoying each other’s company, and who like to be touching.
When we get to the apartment, we stop outside.
“Are you okay going up without Zoe?” he asks. She’s still away, up in the Northland with Joel, hunting down her artifact for the exhibition.
“Yes, I’m fine. I have a routine. Check all the rooms, lock the door fifteen times… don’t worry, I’ve got it into an art form.” He frowns, and I nudge him. “I’m teasing you. I’m fine, honestly. Zoe often goes away to visit her folks. I’m used to being alone, and Fraser is close by.”
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
I think about my fantasy this morning. No, Elora, he didn’t mean that kind of need.
“You’re blushing again,” he says. “What are you thinking about this time?”
Oh God. “Nothing at all.”
He laughs and takes my face in his hands. They’re warm, which doesn’t help my heated cheeks.
“Beautiful girl,” he says. Then he lowers his lips to mine.
Mmm… kissing him is divine. My heaven would consist of kissing Linc twenty-four-seven. Actually, if hell involved kissing Linc twenty-four-seven, I’d probably go. The kissing would be worth the torture.
His lips move gently across mine, as he tilts his head to change the angle, then teases my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. I open my mouth obediently, and he slides his tongue inside, where it brushes mine in an intimate, sensual embrace.
By the time he lifts his head, I’ve turned to caramel, warm, soft, and squidgy.
“Goodnight,” he says, and kisses my forehead.
“Goodnight.” I watch him walk away. I have to fight not to call after him and ask him up to my room. I know he’d say no, though, and I don’t want the rejection, so I turn away and head indoors.
Once I’m in my apartment—and I’ve done the obligatory checks—I take out my phone and text Fraser.
Me: Would it be okay if I took the next few days off? Linc’s asked me to go with him to Queenstown to meet his real father, and after that I’m going on to Arrowtown with him to hopefully track down the Bell Ring.
Fraser: Seriously?
Me: Er, yeah. Too short notice?
Fraser: That’s not what I’m concerned about.
Me: Don’t start.
My phone rings. Rolling my eyes, I answer it. “Overprotective Brothers Association, who’s calling please?”
“Haha. Don’t mock the afflicted.”
I soften. He’s a darling really. “You have no need to be worried, sweetie. Linc is a perfect gentleman.”
“He’s not the one I’m worried about.”
“What do you mean?!” I protest, amused.
He hesitates, and I can imagine him running his tongue across his top teeth the way he does when he’s frustrated. “He’s only here for a week, Elora.”
“Jesus. I know that. He’s a friend. And he’s made it perfectly clear that nothing’s going to happen between us.” I try not to think about the fact that two minutes ago my lips were glued to his for the third time today.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
“I won’t! It’s just… I don’t get out much. I don’t have many male friends. And he’s fun to be with. I trust him, and I can’t say that about many people.”
“Don’t trust him,” Fraser says. “You don’t know him at all.”
Irritation makes me stiffen. “You grew up with him too. I know he’s changed—of course he has—but he’s still the same guy we knew back then. I wish you’d stop thinking of him the way Dad painted him. He’s not like that. He never was.”
“All right. I’m sorry. Look, it’s your life, and you don’t need to ask my permission anyway.”
“I wasn’t,” I reply sharply. “I was asking you for a few days off.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Yes, of course. That’s not a problem at all.”
“Right. I’ll see you soon.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We end the call.
I try not to feel frustrated. He’s been an absolute rock over the past few years and been there for me many times when I’ve felt vulnerable or scared. He’s reassured me, encouraged me to get out and about, and yet been happy to come and pick me up from somewhere if I’ve felt unsafe. He and Joel are the best brothers a girl could have.
But I’m twenty-four, and I’m a little lonely, and I need more than a brother right now.
My phone buzzes again, and I look down expecting to see another text from Fraser, but it’s from Linc. Ten a.m. at the airport. Meet me there?
I smile and text back. Will do! Looking forward to it.
Linc: Me too. Bring something warm to wear :-)
My eyebrows rise. It’s summer! Why do I need something warm?
Linc: It’s a secret. Sleep tight x
Oh, mystery man. Smiling, I go off to my room to start packing my bag, excited about the few days ahead.