29. Noah
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
NOAH
RECOMMENDED LISTENING ‘DANGER ZONE’ BY KENNY LOGGINS
The smell of the alcohol, potent and familiar, hits me. It’s just one drink , a little voice inside me whispers. You can have one drink .
I physically feel the liquid hitting the back of my throat. Going down my gut. Making everything warm and fuzzy. Right.
I shake my head with difficulty. “No, thanks, mate. I’ll stick with water.” I look at the blue-eyed, black-haired teen with a crooked tie and jacket that’s a bit too tight on the shoulders.
“As you wish, sir.” The kid continues looking at me. Assessing.
“There are other people who’d love the drinks.” I smile at the kid.
He nods. “So, there are.” A lock of his hair falls on his forehead.
I sit up straighter in the chair. “Listen?—”
“I saw you. At the match yesterday. I didn’t know much about cricket before yesterday, but you’re a fucking god, Dumaine.”
Aah, I understand now. He’s a fan. “That was just luck and good timing with the bat. But thanks?—”
“Queenie screamed herself hoarse when the ball crossed over the rope.” The kid pauses for effect before declaring, “She’s my QBee.”
The fuck she is. I keep my smile on, aware I’m at a public event hosted by cricket legends who are also my coaches. But the fuck she is. “Look, kid…”
“I’m Simon Archer.” His smile is adolescent arrogance. “QBee would have told you about me.”
“Actually,” I smile nastily. “She has not.”
The kid smiles, easily. Just like Teddy Durham. All self-assured and aware of his place. “Probably because she knows I don’t like you. You’re the reason she doesn’t give me all her pies.”
All her pies are for me, you little shit . “I see.”
“But since you showed up, her eyes are not so sad anymore. So, I guess you’re an okay boyfriend.”
This kid does know Queenie, if he knows her eyes are sad. “Thank you, I guess,” I say dryly. Unsure of how to respond.
“Although I wouldn’t be so friendly with Edward Durham if I were you,” the kid says snidely.
“And why’s that?” I ask, quietly.
“Because your girlfriend’s had a crush on the guy ever since he first came to town.”
“What did you—?” I couldn’t have heard it right. My first thought is the guy’s lying. Trying to rile me up. Because I took his pies away. But Simon’s clear-eyed and straight-shouldered.
He’s not lying.
Simon tips his head in my direction, suddenly formal. “You have a good night, sir. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Ares drops into the seat next to me and grabs a drink from the departing Simon Archer’s tray. He guzzles it down in one shot. “I’m parched as fuck, man.”
My knee jiggles. Hard. Incessantly. I wish I could loosen the stupid tie I’m strangling in. Simon Archer’s truth bomb floats in the space he just vacated. “Don’t drink yourself into a stupor, man.”
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself, Centurion.” Ares winks at me. It’s my new nickname in the locker room. It’s weird. I’m not sure if I should despise it or revel in it. “How many people have congratulated you on your world record now? Fifty? Seventy? A hundred?” He snickers at his own joke.
“Even the wait staff congratulate me, Sandoval.” I sip my water. Really wish it were whiskey. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck into the collar.
“My date, Lysa, was asking me about you. She said you looked lonely and pathetic sitting here all alone.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I told her you were taken. Besotted. Except…” Ares peers around me. “I don’t see Queenie anywhere. She’s not coming?”
I check my phone for the tenth time. Her text still reads:
On my way. Stop being so pissy, Aussie boy.
“She’s on her way.”
“You’re pissy,” Ares observes, helpfully.
“Get bent,” I fire back. Bored and annoyed and altogether done with this party.
I stand up, my dress shoes squelching in the stupid sand. Seriously, who keeps formalwear parties on the damn beach. It’s so inconvenient.
“Noah, I—” Ares eyes widen. And even he shuts up. “Holy god,” he says.
“I’m going to—” I turn around.
Then all thought disappears from my head. All words disappear from my vocabulary. I am struck mute, deaf, blind.
Because Queenie’s walking toward me, the sun as her personal halo.