Chapter 45
Colin
I wasn’t in St Kilda any more.
There were certain similarities: the coarse sand, palm trees, skyscrapers in the distance and the sounds of an amusement park nearby. But this wasn’t home. Everyone around me was speaking Spanish and they were all strangers – even the blokes strolling ahead of me, laughing and joking.
Maybe they were right, but Dad had warned me to show no fear.
Far from the 40 degrees of a sweltering Melbourne, Malaga basked in a mild 13. Perfect cycling weather for a winter training camp, but honestly a bit cold for a walk on the beach. I should never have taken my shoes off.
A wolf whistle from one of the guys drew my attention away from the wide Mediterranean.
‘Nice one, Gallagher!’
Although I glanced up expectantly, no one had been talking to me. Lars Fiske, a Swedish rider who’d been one of Dad’s early signings, was grinning at my sister, who was tossing a ball from hand to hand by a volleyball net stuck haphazardly in the sand. She raised her middle finger in reply.
Some of the guys joined in with the volleyball game, while the others sprawled on the sand, chatting about the off-season – family, friends in common. I wavered in indecision, my feet freezing, as neither group invited me to join them.
Show no fear.
‘Hey, you new?’
I whirled around and whump!
Wow.
I couldn’t stop blinking as my eyes worked overtime: soft blue eyes; curved lips that looked as though an artist had painted them; a doubtful smile, full of good humour; a riot of curls glowing with the sunset – and a little dent in her chin.
She was looking at me expectantly. Oh, right, she’d said something. I was supposed to say something back. Except every single word had fallen out of my head apart from one: beautiful.
‘What?’ she prompted.
Fuck, I’d said that aloud. Clearing my throat with a choked cough, I gestured wildly out to sea. ‘Evening,’ I added. ‘Beautiful evening. For fooling around on the beach—’
Her eyes widened.
‘Fooling around with a volleyball and a bunch of mates.’
‘Sure is,’ she said in a soft American accent, her smile crinkling.
She was laughing at me, but I didn’t care. It was still a smile. I claimed it, matched it, grinning at her while the stars blinked on one by one in the sky behind her and I fell a bit in love in an instant.
Her head tipped towards me and I leaned closer, drawn helplessly. ‘It’s just…’ She gave a little shrug and I held my breath, waiting to hear what she’d say. ‘You’re standing on my sweater.’