Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bryce
It’s touch and go.
Hours spent in the hospital, a long night of getting endless shitty cups of coffee from the vending machine, making sure Mum’s okay. I feel like I’m on autopilot, as though everything is muted, behind glass.
I miss Claire so much it hurts. Crazy how someone can come into your life and almost immediately become indispensable.
I sit down in a chair next to the coffee machine and pull out my phone, scrolling through the photos of us.
At the Torquay event, on the balcony at her place, a few shots of the magnificent view.
And one I took on the beach, after I kissed her in the water and told her I wanted to explore where things were going.
She stares back at me, her dark hair slicked back, her rash top clinging to her, her ocean eyes dark and endless.
She’s so fucking beautiful it takes my breath away.
I keep scrolling, then stop on a photo that feels like a punch in the chest. It’s the one I took of Millie, standing outside the smiling clown-face entrance of Luna Park, holding pink candyfloss and grinning like a little kid. A reminder of what’s possible.
And now she’s lying in a hospital bed. I wipe my eyes with the heel of my hand. Then, on impulse, I post the photo to my socials with a single line.
Love this girl.
Those who know me will know who Millie is, what she means to me.
And those who don’t? I don’t really give a shit at the moment.
I sigh and get up, paying for another couple of cups of coffee.
I head back to where Mum is waiting, her face drawn and grey, and hand her one of the cups.
Then I catch a glimpse of a clock and realise the time.
Shit. Claire. I’m not going to get back to the coast today.
Reality comes rushing back to me, everything suddenly seeming too loud, too bright.
I wish she was here, wish I could hold her and bury my face in her soft hair, breathe in the sense of comfort, of peace, that she gives me.
The feeling is so intense it hurts, like something inside my chest is trying to burst out.
I pull out my phone and start texting. I don’t trust my voice to call her, and I don’t want to worry her. I know I need to tell her about Millie and what’s going on, but I’d rather do it in person.
I’m not going to make it back tonight. Things aren’t great here. I miss you, so much. Wish you were here with me. I’m so sorry. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can. And then I’ll tell you everything.
I pause, because the thing in my chest is pushing harder, and I just want to tell her how I feel.
I love you.
I type it, then delete it. Several times. If I’m going to say it to her, it doesn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text message.
“Mrs Maylands?”
My head snaps up. The doctor, a slim Black woman with her hair in braids, is standing there.
“Is she all right?” This is Mum.
“She will be.”
My whole body expands with relief. I realise I’m shaking.
I can’t wait to tell Claire.
Claire
Despite setting an alarm, my body just refuses to wake up.
I guess Bryce and I spent a lot of energy yesterday.
I finally manage to get out of bed, showering and dressing quickly, grabbing a piece of toast before making the drive to Lorne.
My hair is still damp, as I didn’t have time to dry it, and I race into the coffee shop, desperate for caffeine, hoping there won’t be a massive queue.
It’s not too bad and, happily, Kylie is behind the till. She grins and waves when she spots me. “Chai latte?” she yells, over the hiss and clatter of the coffee machine and kitchen.
I nod “Thanks!” I take my place in the line and wait, eyeing the pile of luscious buttery pastries in the display case.
“Good night?” Kylie says, when I get to the till. Her eyes are twinkling, a grin playing around her lips.
I blush. “Yeah.”
She hands me the coffee and a bag with something in it.
“What’s this?” I open the bag. It’s one of the pastries.
“On the house,” Kylie says, with a wink. “You look like you need it.”
“Uh, thanks,” I say. “You’re probably right.”
“He told us.”
“Told you?” I look up.
“That you two are giving it a proper go.” There is softness in her gaze. “He seems to really like you, too. I’ve never seen him like this with any other girl.”
Tears prickle at my eyes. I really am a mess this morning. “That’s good,” I manage to say. “I really like him too.” I blush again. But Kylie is so nice, and it’s good to be able to talk to her. She isn’t Bryce, but she knows him; it makes me feel closer to him.
“You working today?”
“Yes. Oh my god!” I notice the time. “I have to run! Thanks, Kylie.”
“Anytime,” she calls after me, as I race out of the shop and down the street towards Anna’s. There’s no one waiting outside, thank goodness. I unlock the door and head inside.
And there’s Bryce, in all his completely fuckable glory, surfing an endless blue wave on the poster behind the till.
I stare at it for a moment, unable to believe he’s mine.
I think he is, anyway. I desperately want him to be.
I don’t think we have a deal anymore; the events of the last twenty-four hours have changed that.
The only thing is, I don’t know what we do have now.
Once I’ve opened up the shop properly, I check my phone. I realise I’ve missed a message from him. I click on it.
Miss you already.
I miss him, too.
Today is going to be a really long day.
A couple of hours later, it’s official. This is absolutely the longest day of my entire life. The shop isn’t busy, so I spend time cleaning, dusting off all the fixtures, polishing the glass and chrome, making sure all the clothes are hung in size order.
And it’s not even lunch time yet.
I’ve messaged Joss and Sal. Couldn’t resist, just a cherry emoji with the word “popped” next to it.
I want to go back to bed with Bryce and figure out all the ways we can fuck each other. And then try them, over and over again. It actually hurts to be parted from him, my body aching for his touch. It’s ridiculous. And I love it.
The bell on the shop door rings and I look up, jolted out of my latest Bryce daydream.
“Claire!”
It’s Joss, her dark hair looking slightly dishevelled, a huge smile on her face. She runs at me and grabs me, hugging me, and we jump up and down together, laughing.
I love her so much. She’s been the best friend to me. I want to share my joy with her.
“I can’t believe you did it. And with him! You fucking lucky bitch!”
We both sigh, staring at the poster of Bryce. I might have to ask Anna if we can change it, as I’m finding it incredibly distracting.
“So?” Joss nudges me.
“What?”
“Claire, do not think that you can shag one of the hottest surfers around and then not share details,” she squeals. “How was it? What’s he like? How big is his—”
“Enough!” I almost can’t speak for laughing.
“Claire. I work in a pharmacy. I do not have a boyfriend. I need this in my life.”
“All right! It was … amazing. “
“Well, duh. I didn’t imagine sex god Bryce Maylands would be anything but.” Joss folds her arms. “I need details. Something to take back to work with me.”
“Don’t tell everyone at your work!”
“What? That my best friend is dating a famous surfer? You better believe I’m telling everyone that shit.”
“You cannot tell your co-workers details about my sex life!” I hiss.
The bell on the door jingles again and a woman comes in. She starts browsing through the racks. Joss grabs a piece of paper from behind the till and a pen. She starts writing something. I head over to the woman.
“Hi, let me know if you need any help.”
“Thanks,” the woman says. “Do you have this in a 12?” She holds out a top.
“I’ll just check. Hang on a sec.”
I make a face at Joss as I pass her, heading for the small stockroom/office at the back of the store. I rummage around and find the top, then head back out. I give it to the customer.
“Thanks,” she says. “Where can I…?
I point out the small changing room. When she closes the door, Joss comes over, handing me the piece of paper.
I look at it. A giggle bursts out of me. “What the hell is this?” I whisper.
“You have a customer; I need details,” Joss hisses. “I have to go back to work in a minute. And don’t think Sal won’t be calling you as well, wanting the same information. This way it saves time.”
The paper has a list of sex positions on it, with check boxes next to each one.
“Fill it in,” Joss says, nudging me.
“No need,” I say, warmth running through me at the memory of Bryce and what we did together. “We did all of it. Except that one.” I point to where she’s written, bent over the outside balcony, trying not to imagine what that might be like. “Although I’m sure we’ll get round to it soon.”
“The whole list?” Joss’s eyes are wide.
“It’s not a very long list,” I say, shoving it at her as the customer exits the changing room.
“I’ll have to think about things to add to it, then,” Joss says, giggling again.
I ring up the customer’s purchase, trying to ignore Joss making kissy faces at Bryce’s poster in the background.
Once the customer is gone, Joss comes and gives me a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Claire-bear,” she says. “Truly. And also jealous to my bones. Please find out if he has a friend who likes pharmacists.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, laughing. “But you cannot share that list with your co-workers!”
“I make no promises,” Joss says, as she sails out the door.
I’m still laughing a few moments later when my phone rings. It’s Sal. The shop is still empty, so I answer it.
“You lucky bitch!” she shrieks. “Joss showed me the list! I love this for you, so fucking much.”
Like I say, I love these girls.
After having an almost identical conversation with her to the one I had with Joss, I hang up. It’s almost lunch time, finally. I close up the shop and duck down the street to grab a snack, though I’m too excited to eat much. Just a few short hours and I’ll be in Bryce’s arms again.
But after what feels like about twenty hours, when it’s finally time to close the shop and I’m standing outside, there’s no sign of him. I frown, looking up and down the street, scanning the cars for his station wagon. I check my phone, but there are no messages.
Maybe he meant he’d meet me back at my place, though he won’t be able to get past the electric gates.
I need to give him a key fob, I think, the idea fizzing in my chest. There’s something unbearably intimate at the thought of him being able to come to my home whenever he wants.
I wouldn’t have it any other way. He has entwined his presence around me, filled me with it as surely as he filled me with his body, made it so I can’t imagine life without him.
The thought buoys me during the drive home, but my mood changes when I get to the gates and he’s not there.
Maybe he picked up the extra fob from the dish in the kitchen, I think, though he doesn’t seem the type to do that without asking.
But there’s no sign of his car when I pull up next to the house.
Disquiet begins to curl in the base of my stomach.
I check my phone again, but there’s still nothing apart from the message he sent me last night.
I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I remember him saying that to me, before we came back here and he made love to me in a hundred different ways. He promised me he’d meet me today. But he’s not here.
I hurry inside, just in case he’s decided, for some reason, to come up via the cliff path.
But the house is deserted. It feels even emptier than usual.
The disquiet turns to full blown panic. What if he crashed on his way back here?
Is he lying by the side of the road somewhere, right now?
Tears prickle my eyes, horror cold in my chest. I can’t bear the thought of losing him.
I try to call him, but there’s no answer. I try again. I don’t bother leaving a message, because there’s a lump in my throat and I can’t speak. I swipe through my phone to get to my messages, and my finger accidentally hits the Instagram icon. My feed pops up.
A photo of a petite pretty girl, standing outside the smiling mouth entrance of Luna Park in St Kilda, is at the top of my feed.
The girl, who looks a similar age to me, has pink hair and is holding pink candyfloss.
Tattoos climb up one slender arm, disappearing beneath the sleeve of her tight black T-shirt.
She’s gorgeous. Beneath the photo is a single sentence.
Love this girl.
It’s Bryce’s account. And he posted the image last night.