wobbly
knees.
Maybe it was seeing him
track-side looking weekend casual and slightly out of sorts surrounded by his
coupled-up mates, or it was all the surreptitiously checking him out she’d been
doing since then, watching to see if he was going to give the game away.
He’d be easier to ignore
when the words coming out of his mouth conjured up end-of-year tax returns not
sultry nights, silk sheets and dirty sex. Why did he have to say that?
Couldn’t they have had that stupid, forgettable, state the obvious weather
conversation you generally had with people.
He moved first and she
followed him up the buildings front stairs to the foyer. When the doors slid
open it was like standing in front of a dinosaur-sized fridge. The cold air
wrapped around her and relief shot straight to Bree’s head. She sighed aloud.
Anthony groaned with pleasure, lifting his face to the ceiling, bearing his
neck. Oh God . It was too easy imagining him doing that when.... shut
that down, right now.
They looked at each other
and laughed. It was the single most personal moment they’d shared in twelve
months. Then they got in the lift with a bunch of other people and went to
their floor, went to their desks and the next thing Bree knew she was nodding
goodnight to him across the office, and he was barely looking up at her as she
left and everything was as it should be.
6: Bruised
Ant rested his board
against Dan’s Kombi. The surf was crap this morning so they’d come back to
shore early which meant there was time to talk before he belted home to get
ready for work.
“What are you supposed to
do when a chick has bruises?”
Dan’s head came around
sharp. “What kind of bruises?”
“Multicoloured ones, lots
of them.”
“Assume she’s accident
prone,” said Mitch. He hopped about brushing sand from his foot. “Or she’s
got a second rate ballroom partner who’s got two left everything.”
“That’s never going to get
old is it?” said Dan. He pulled himself up on the promenade railing between
the Kombi and Ant’s Alfa and sat, his bare feet on the lower rail.
“By the time we’re sick of
it you’ll have more than two left everything and the stand-off with Ferdy over
that viral make-out video with you and Alex will be a full on knife fight” said
Fluke.
“It’s because you have a
girlfriend you feel you can say any friggin’ stupid thing that comes to mind,
right?” said Dan.
Fluke grinned. “Yeah,
pretty much.” He dodged a back hander from Dan only to have the one Mitch
aimed at him connect with the side of his head. Classic. He was still
grinning though. Nothing could wipe the grin off Fluke’s face since he and
Carlie had gotten together.
“The bruises,” said Dan.
“Do you think some bastard is knocking her around?”
“I don’t know what to
think. I’ve seen bruises, ugly, purple and green, on her arms twice now. Once
weeks ago, early in the office before the air con kicked in. She had her
jacket off and there were bruises all over her arms. And then this week I ran
into her on the street. Her shoulder was like a rainbow. Both times she
covered up as soon as she saw me.”
“Is this same chick that
makes you rave on about how equal opportunity is a bad thing because it stops
the best and brightest?” said Mitch.
“Yep.”
“The same chick who got
promoted ahead of you,” he said.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Anytime.”
“What are we talking about
here? You think some fuckwit is hurting her?” said Dan. Fluke got up on the
railing beside him and Dan casually pushed him off.
Ant shrugged. “I dunno,
but what if there is?”
Dan sighed. “You find
out.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“She’s a colleague. If
someone is knocking her around, it’s your business. If some bastard is
knocking any woman around, it’s your business. Why are you even
Learning to Kill: Stories