Chapter 4 Koby
Koby
“I can’t believe this is your ‘pop out to the shops’ car,” I jest.
“What? It sits in the garage for the season. I really only drive it when I’m home. Why leave a beautiful car like this to rust inside the entire year?” She smiles.
“Fair call.”
“I forgot to ask. Did you get a good sleep?”
“Yeah, that’s a great guest bedroom. You thought of everything.” Which is true. She had spare toiletries, phone chargers, and multiple reading options. “Hope you enjoyed breakfast?”
“It was fantastic. Thank you for making it.”
Fuck, this morning was unnerving. The ease with which we could work around the kitchen together, felt so familiar.
Like all those years we hadn’t been close, faded away, and we were right back to being in each other’s lives an inordinate amount of time.
It was our pre-university days’ inseparability.
Before my accident. Before uni started. Before Court came into the picture.
Before Wes swept Rayna off her feet. Before our motorcycle teams, before kids took up all our time. Just the two of us.
The two of us. When I was petrified of telling Rayna how I felt about her.
Worried I’d lose her and her friendship.
But I lost her anyway. The moment I introduced Wes to her.
I saw it all over their faces. I missed my chance, but I could see they were remarkably happy.
No way I was going to come between them. I had to step away.
Rayna veers around the left corner, and the best view comes into sight. Bronte Beach. It’s always breath-taking whenever I see it. Magnificent in its simplicity. Small yet powerful.
Rayna takes another left onto my street. “You’ll have to point out your place. I haven’t been here.”
I instruct her which house is mine, and she parks in front of my garage. Exiting the car and coming to stand next to me, she surveys the brick frontage. A garage is at street level, with stairs leading to the house on the side. An open patio area on top of the garage. A common set-up for the area.
“Lovely,” she comments.
“Thanks. I don’t need much.” I shrug.
She smiles and continues, “Lead the way.” And she motions for me to go ahead of her.
I open the door and let it swing inwards. I don’t know what I was preparing myself for, but I brace anyway. The stillness of no one inside was deafening. Peeking my head in, my eyes go straight to the floor. In the bright daylight, the different shade of the soaked carpet is clear.
“Don’t come in. It’s going to be sopping wet through the carpet. I can see it already.”
I feel the soft warmth of her palms on my back as she gently moves them down a little and shoves me into the room.
“Just get in there. I won’t dissolve.”
Staggering into the room, I quickly right myself. Adding in a clearing of the throat to hide the surprise of the sudden movement.
Looking around, I'm grateful I have raised furniture. Hopefully, the damage won’t be as severe.
“Are there any sentimental items you can think of that need to be checked?” Rayna offers.
Taking a moment to ponder, I remember a box of family things. Shit. Racing to the back of the house, Rayna’s squelching footsteps behind me.
Entering my office, I go directly to the glass-door bookshelves that line two of the walls.
Opening the last place I remember the box sitting.
Peering in, there doesn’t appear to be anything watery inside.
I open a glass-door, patting around a medium wooden box, hoping to not feel any water surrounding it.
The box is simple. No designs carved into it.
Just red-tinted maple for the bottom part and a lid with the same wood as a red-tinted border, highlighting a light brown rectangle in the middle that has been varnished clear to display the natural markings of the wood.
Gripping it in my hands and bringing it out, I touch all over it to make sure it has no water on it.
My head tips back as my eyes shut, letting out a relieved sigh.
Opening my eyes to Rayna, I smile, “Pirate treasure is safe.” Popping open the lid to show her, there is an assortment of Aria’s childhood possessions and a few items my parents handed down to me.
I lift out a small plush koala Aria would give to me when I travelled, and she stayed home with Court. All safe.
“Aww, I remember when Koa the Koala used to come on the road with us. I can’t believe Aria let you keep it.”
“She doesn’t know I still have it.”
“Crafty.”
I place Koa back in the box, and the box onto the shelf.
“You’re not going to take it with you?”
“I should, shouldn’t I?”
She shrugs. “Just to be safe.”
Taking the box back off the shelf, I find one of my duffle bags and place it in.
“Now you can collect your loot on the way through the house, as needed,” Rayna quips, continuing the pirate motif.
“Arrgghh,” I reply in my most piratey voice, contorting my face to match my pirate ways.
She giggles and slaps my arm. “Don’t pull that face again. Does not agree with you.”
“Copy,” I say, straightening myself up with a smile plastered across my face.
“Let’s go through the house and see what needs to be noted. First up, you’re definitely going to need new carpet.” She alternates lifting her feet up and down to emphasise how much water has run through the floors of the entire house.
“Luckily, I was thinking of ripping up the carpet.”
“A positive.” She folds her arms across her chest, and I notice she is wearing long sleeves.
In summer. I can see the material is light, but the air conditioner isn’t on in the house, and it’s been locked up with stagnant water through November.
It’s muggy as fuck in here. Isn’t she hot?
I’m warming up after that anxious dash to the back of the house, and I’m in shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt.
“Are you not hot?” I blurt out.
“No,” she replies too quickly. Visibly stiffening.
“Okay. Let’s go check everything.” I leave it and motion for her to exit the room before me.
When I left on Friday night, I flicked off the main power switch to make sure nothing happened while the water was about, but as the water is still around, I don’t want to flick the power back on for the air con so she is comfortable.
In case there is a short or the water managed to seep into where any electricity is.
“Let’s be quick because I am unfit, and that run took it out of me,” I lie. I run every few days and swim the days in between. While I am more on the solid torso, husky side, my fitness isn’t too bad for a 46-year-old.
We walk through the house, Rayna typing notes on her phone as I snap photos of damages. Items that were left on the floor that insurance will cover, and what I will need to replace or ask questions about.
We finish the water park tour at my bedroom, and I dump the duffle on the bed to add some fresh clothes for the weekend.
Rayna wanders around my room, studying the few items I have peppered throughout.
Seeing her here, in my room, I’m overcome with emotions.
Emotions I’d long since buried deep down.
Talking to Mabel, Rayna’s new PR Director, this season, sharing my experience about holding back on a relationship purely because I was scared to lose the person I care for, in hopes that she shouldn’t miss her opportunity with my rider, Riley.
They think they were so slick, and no one knew what was happening between them, but you can’t hide that love when it shines so brightly.
After rehashing my past regrets so recently, it brought everything blindingly to the foreground. I feel like I’m back to being an 18-year-old again. Bashful and longingly staring at Rayna from afar, yet so close. A barrier I always put between us.
It was obviously easier to put distance between my feelings when Wesley came into the picture, and when I allowed myself to see other women in a romantic scope.
I definitely fell in love with Courtney, and I would never regret being with her, but we did not fight to keep our love going.
The physical distance and being away from her for the motorcycle season was too much, and I don't deny it was hard on all of us.
But now? Could I reach over and touch her here and now in my room?
Profess the persistent ache I have in my heart for her, whenever she is around.
That felt like it was coming back stronger every time we have been hanging out over the last few years.
Give in to actions I've only dreamt of. Whisking her away on a holiday to somewhere secluded and stunning, and not leave the room until we check out days later.
But I turn my back to her and continue to pack my bag with some clean items for the next few days.
“Should we hit the beach tomorrow morning?” I ask, lifting my boardshorts and waving them around. “No surfing. I won’t try to get my old sandy board into your car.”
“You’d definitely test the friendship if you scuffed up the back seat with your board. You can beach. I have to be at home for a call.” Her hands fold across her waist and wrap about her biceps, shrinking into herself.
“You know where I'll be heading if you change your mind or the call ends quicker than expected.” Placing the shorts on top and zipping up the duffle.
“That’s everything?”
“Yeah. I’ll come back next week and meet with the tradies for quotes, and a realistic timeline on what will happen and see what they say.”
“You’re not going to be able to come back here for a while.”
“You’re right. I should probably set up shop at a hotel.”
“No,” she rushed out. “Not what I was getting at. I meant do you have enough clothes to last you a while at mine? You're welcome as long as you need.”