Page 52 of Crashing Into You

I wake suddenly, wondering where I am.

The familiar lines and shapes of my bedroom resolve themselves, faintly lit by the moonlight outside. I have no idea what time it is.

I reach across the bed for Bryce, wanting his body against mine, but it’s empty. My stomach lurches. Maybe he’s in the ensuite. I blink, sitting up, pushing my hair back from my face. My whole body aches, but in the sweetest way. I can still feel his hands on me, the way he filled me, my groin slightly sore, my inner thighs aching. I wouldn’t change a single thing. It’s been the most amazing twenty-four hours of my life.

There’s no light on in the ensuite, and I frown. Then a vague memory comes back to me of Bryce kissing me, tucking a blanket around me and saying something about having to leave. Surely he wouldn’t have, though? Doubt curls in my stomach. I get out of bed, padding across the carpet and grab my robe from the hook behind the door. I pull the tie around my waist as I head out into the open-plan living area. It’s dark out here as well, a faint paleness on the horizon hinting at the approaching dawn. Shit. It’s a good thing I woke up. I have to work today and I didn’t set an alarm. Too busy doing other, far more pleasurable things. Heat rushes through me again at the memory, the hardness of Bryce’s body, his flickering tongue. The way he slammed into me, teasing me with his hips. Fuck. I want him again.

But where is he?

My bra and thong are on the floor next to the dining table. I bend and pick them up, then notice a sheet of paper lying on the table. I pick it up, squinting in the darkness to read what it says.

Shit. A family emergency? I don’t even really know anything about his family, I realise. He mentioned growing up in Melbourne, but not much more than that. I feel like an idiot for not asking about it, especially when he seemed so interested in me.

Otherwise there’s no way I’d be leaving you, believe me.

The phrase thrills through me. I want him back, want him with a yearning that surprises me in its intensity. I knew I was catching feelings, but this is more than that, something on a deeper level, a need to have him in my life. He’s signed off with a heart. I sigh, clutching the letter to my chest like a lovesick teenager.

Because I am lovesick, I realise. Lovesick for him. Being without him feels as though I’ve lost something vital. I can’t wait for him to come back to me. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Certainly not Simon. I told him I loved him, but I know now I had no idea what real love is. Real love makes you feel safe, cherished, desired. Simon never really made me feel any of those things.

But Bryce does.

In just over a week he’s managed to capture my heart.

I stagger back to bed, remembering to set my alarm before curling up, Bryce’s letter still in my hands. I can smell him on my sheets, faintly musky, amber and salt. I breathe him in, imagining his arms around me as I drift back to sleep.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Bryce

After my shower I head into the kitchen. I’m knackered. I guess shagging like a maniac for hours on end then driving to Melbourne will do that to you. I miss Claire, though. It’s like a hook inside me, pulling me back to her. I can’t wait to get back to the coast. But first I need to sort out whatever is going on with Millie. I also need coffee. Mum seems to have read my mind, a steaming mug waiting on the counter as she wipes down the small coffee machine.

I take a long draught, heat burning my throat. “I’ll have this, then we can head over to Millie’s and see what’s up,” I say.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to do,” Mum says. “She might not appreciate us invading her privacy like that.”

“Her mum and brother dropping by isn’t an invasion of privacy, Mum.” I try not to grit my teeth. Mum is a powerhouse, as I say, but she also has a way of brushing things under the rug, or trying to make them out to be not as bad as they are. Classic avoidance techniques. I suppose that’s where I get it from. “And we need to sort this out. Come on, I’m here now. We can do this.”

“If you say so.” She sighs, putting her coffee cup down. “This is so much harder without your dad here,” she says. “I still miss him, every day.”

There’s a lump in my throat. “I miss him too, Mum.”

I was eleven when Dad died from cancer. I don’t remember much about it, to be honest. I just remember him how he was before he got sick, taking me out for surfs, helping me stand up on his mal, teaching me about the currents and what was a good wave. I get my love of surfing from him. It’s always killed me that he wasn’t here to see me succeed in the way I have. I know he would have loved it. I talk to him before every comp, though. Not sure if he hears me, but it makes me feel better.

“I know you do. But when it’s your partner…” Mum trails off, her green eyes distant. “You’ll find love one day, I know you will. And then you’ll really understand.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her how I feel about Claire. I shouldn’t, because I don’t want to get her hopes up, or take her focus away from what’s going to be a tough evening. But I can’t resist sharing, the words seeming to tumble from me. “I think I might be falling for Claire.”

“You do?” Her face lights up, and she covers my hand with hers.

“Yeah. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You wait till you meet her, Mum. I know you’ll love her.”

“I can’t wait,” she says, smiling, but worry still lurks in her eyes. I drain the last of my coffee, then grab my car keys. We need to get this over with. Hopefully it’s nothing, hopefully it was just Millie being nice, and if her ex is there, I can gently escort him off the premises using my fist.

Mum is quiet on the drive from Richmond to St Kilda. The city is gleaming in the summer night, trams trundling along the streets, cafés full of people sipping wine and talking. I love this city, set on the blue curving bay. It’s a beautiful place. But it also has its dark side.

There are humped shapes on the pavements, in between the gleaming cafés filled with glossy people. Homeless people. Some of them are addicts, I know from experience. Mum’s lips are tight, her hands twisting together in her lap. I know she’s thinking of another time when Millie went AWOL and we found her on the street with her ex, a needle in her arm. I suspected, though I never said anything to Mum, that he’d been pimping her out to get drugs. Just another reason I want to cave his face in. And part of the reason I stay away.

I know now that I need to face up to things. Go through my problems, rather than going around them. Maybe it’s what Matt said to me, the other night. Or maybe it’s from spending time with Claire, seeing how she dealt with losing almost everything. She could have run away, but instead she chose to face how her parents died, making a conscious decision to live their dream, making it her own, honouring them with her choices. It’s time for me to make good choices as well, I realise. Choices that aren’t just about me.