Page 53 of Ace My Heart

I shook myself, hoping that being back in my familiar apartment would be the catalyst that would stop the dreams from recurring. Ibusied myself making a coffee as Connor refamiliarised himself with the place.

I needed to keep busy. I needed groceries, I had laundry to do, I had friends I needed to catch up with. Focusing on a checklist like this helped me not to dwell on nightmares of Steve …

Or on the spot on the back of my neck where I was sure I could still feel Joel’s hot mouth.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

Nope, I told myself.No dwelling. It happened, it was weird and it’s not happening again.

I unpacked my suitcase and chucked a load in the washing machine. One task ticked off.

Groceries. Thankfully my pantry was always stocked with staples, but I needed fresh produce. I needed milk that wasn’t long-life.

I needed to burn some nervous energy.

Grabbing an empty backpack, I lifted my pushbike down from the hook near the door, dragged it down the stairs and hopped on. I pedalled the few kilometres to the local organic markets in Double Bay.

I’d never learned how to drive. No licence, no car, no interest in changing that situation. Anywhere I needed to go I could get to easily via Uber, or in this case, a ten-minute bike ride. Joel used to tease me about it, until I suggested that he teach me in his BMW. That shut him up like lightning. No one was allowed behind the wheel of his baby except for him.

I was halfway back to my place, backpack full of grass-fed beef, hormone-free chicken, fresh-caught seafood, and pesticide-free fruit and vegetables when a car honked beside me, the window buzzing down. I kept riding.

“I think those bike shorts are my new favourite!”

“There’s a reason I’m not looking at you,” I retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. “Now, drive on, you’re holding up traffic.”

“Oh, come on, Stink! Don’t be like that. I was looking for you.Can I meet you back at your place? I have something important to talk to you about.”

I groaned. “Joel, please, can I just haveoneday of peace?”

“Either you let me come back to your house, or I’ll keep driving like this and talk to you about it now.”

I could hear the frustrated beeps of cars queueing behind him.

“Fine!” I grunted. “I’ll see you back at my place!”

“Don’t take too long, Stink!” Joel called as he roared his BMW off down the road. I found myself pedalling harder, sure there would be some smart-arse comment about how long it took me to ride back to my house waiting for me at the other end.

I wasn’t disappointed.

“Lucky it’s a sunny day, Stinky – I’ve been getting a nice tan here.” Joel grinned, leaning against his car in the visitor space. I climbed off my bike, biting the inside of my cheek so he wouldn’t see me wince from the stitch in my side.

“What was so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Joel?” I opened the door and struggled with my bike on the stairs. Joel squeezed past me, hefting the bike over one shoulder and carrying it up. I followed, wanting to be miffed that he assumed I wasn’t capable, but really just relieved because I’d just ridden like an utter maniac, so there was very little juice left in the tank.

“I got an interesting call today,” he began as he hung my bike up on the rack. I moved into the kitchen and started unpacking the groceries. I tried to pretend I wasn’t interested in what he had to say, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“Okay, who called?” I asked.

“The features editor for WoodyMagazine,” he replied casually. I turned to him, eyebrow raised, waiting for him to explain.

“He was wondering if he could entice you to be the cover girl for the May issue.”

I groaned. “Ihatethat magazine, Joel. It’s soft-core porn for kids whose parents have their Internet locked down so they can’t access the good stuff.”

Joel put on his best cajoling face. “Look, Mel, I know it’s not really your cup of tea, but just hear me out –”

“What? You actuallywantme to do it?” I screeched. He grabbed me by the arms and held me still.

“Mel, think about this rationally. One, you’re not getting offers from sponsors – sorry, but it’s true. The money would be welcome. Two, it would thrust you into the limelight, and might attract sponsors that are a bit left of field and outside the tennis sphere. And three, if you go out there and do an interview showing how little the video thing worried you, people are going to forget about it a whole lot faster.”

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