Page 60 of Reluctant Chemistry

“No, thanks. I’ve said my goodbyes, so I’m going to wander home. I’ve had all the alcohol I need for one night.” As she stood and placed her glass on the table between them, a little wobbly on her feet, Amy Winehouse’s voice cut through the air.

“Oh man, I love this song.” CeCe kicked off her heels and stepped out onto the lawn. It reminded Luka of a scene from the book she’d given him that day at the library, the one about the chopper pilot and the woman he’d loved and lost. Life imitating art, or maybe the other way around.

The air had chilled, but CeCe didn’t seem to notice as she swayed to the music, her arms outstretched. Luka’s gaze followed her across the lawn to where the lights from the house dulled into moonlight. When the song stopped, she turned to look at him and smiled, then strolled back to the veranda to collect her shoes.

“Do you remember when we last heard that song together?” he asked.

“Of course. We’d eaten burgers and fries after our first trip to Sandwater Bay. It was playing on the radio when we arrived back at your place.”

His eyes found hers. “I’ve loved this version ever since.”

“Me too.” She sat back next to him and slipped on her shoes. “I really should go. Thanks for listening to my drunken apology.”

“You’re not drunk, are you?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely drunk. I wouldn’t be out here with you if I was sober.”

“Why’s that?”

CeCe’s expression softened. It reminded him of their time together: when she’d turn up at his place unannounced, her concern wrapping around him like a cocoon. “Because life’s complicated enough as it is,” she murmured.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Luka stood, placed his bottle on the table, and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

“I’m perfectly happy to walk alone.”

“I know, but I could do with a stroll.”

Luka didn’t bother going back inside to say goodbye. After all, he was merely walking CeCe home. And when they reached the side door of the packing shed, they’d shuffle their feet and offer a casual goodnight. They’d hesitate for a moment, then she’d climb the stairs alone while he strolled back to Mitch and Tayla’s to catch a ride home with his parents.

However, as the moon tracked their progress through lime-laden trees, he couldn’t help but wonder if the PG version in his imagination might ever be upgraded to Restricted.

They were silent for the first half of the short walk, but as they approached the packing shed, CeCe chatted off and on, asking him about his work and where he lived. By the time they reached the driveway, Luka could hardly think straight.

That chemistry he’d shared with the girl in the Kombi burned so much hotter for the CeCe she’d become. Perhaps it was the night air, or the booze, or the off-white cocktail dress holding her tight that led his mind to inappropriate thoughts. Whatever it was, if she invited him inside, he’d still refuse. Rebound sex had never been his thing, and it wouldn’t be fair to either CeCeorAnnabelle.

Just as in his imagination, they stopped outside her door. She turned to look at him; a ‘thanks for the escort’ whispered into the air. Then, without so much as a peck on the cheek, she offered him a smiled ‘goodnight,’ stepped inside, and shut the door behind her.

Luka stood with his hands in his pockets as the lock clicked into place. Music from the party drifted over the treetops, and when the window above him filled with light, he turned and headed back the way he’d come, smiling at the stupidity of his pleasantly hammered self.

29

Moot Point

CeCe woke to the sound of the sprinklerstish, tish, tishingacross the lemon grove closest to the packing shed. She snuggled down under the covers and closed her eyes, her head aching and foggy and her mouth like a dried-up millpond.

Luka drifted into her thoughts. She’d enjoyed having him walk her home under the full moon, found it comforting in a way she never would have imagined. But right now, she didn’t need a distraction in the form of a sexy six-foot-three Chopper Guy. She needed to put in the hours and save hard to pay for the Kombi restoration and get Botanical Ce off the ground.

Still, what would five years look like in terms of their shared chemistry? Would the desire be the same? Would he hold her afterward as he used to? Bury his hands in her hair as he kissed her? The thought made her shudder. Luka was taken, and CeCe respected that. She would never come between a couple. Ever.

With it being Sunday, her self-appointed lazy day, CeCe tried to drift back to sleep, her conversation with Luka replaying in her head. Eventually admitting defeat, she picked up her phone to check the time—five after eight—then pulled up her Contacts and hit the Call icon.

“Morning, Molly. Did I wake you?”

“Not quite. But itisSunday morning, and I’m still in bed.”

“Me too. So, what’s been happening?”

“What?” Molly replied. “Since we talked three days ago? Well, I still haven’t had a decent haircut since lockdown ended, my last Tinder date stood me up, and it’s nice having Patrick away for the weekend. That little brother of mine seriously needs to find his own place. How was Mitch’s party?”

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