Page 39 of Fireworks
“I think this is a conversation for when we’re sober,” Eiley decided. “But if you wanted, I’d love to make more of these for you. It’s been a nice wee escape.”
Harper cradled the book to her chest. “I would love that, but only if you have the time. You have enough on your plate as it is.” Her eyes drifted to something past Eiley’s shoulder, brows rising. “Speaking of plates, Hercules is over there playing darts. This is not a drill.”
Eiley felt as though the ground had vanished from beneath her. She didn’t dare turn around to see for herself, lest he visited another one of her dreams. “What has he got to do with plates?”
“Well … he’s dishy?”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Go. Scram. Talk to him. It’s the perfect time,” Harper commanded.
“Did you not hear anything I said before? He’s pompous, oversexed, and well …awful.”
“—Ly fit!” she completed.
Eiley pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s interested in the teaching assistant, Blair. I overheard them flirting – in the bloody classroom, by the way!”
“What a completely inappropriate place to do that. Was the stockroom not available?”
“Ha ha,” Eiley deadpanned. God, she was sick of this man and the ways he seemed to be haunting her. And she was sick of everybody talking about him all the time, as though their awkward flirtation was the only interesting thing about her. “I’m just saying that he certainly picks and chooses his time to be professional. Anyway, Fraser won’t be best impressed that you’re trying to set me up with some egotistical alpha-male.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Fraserwasan egotistical alpha-male. On the surface. And then I got to know him and realised he has a humongous heart, and he just needed to protect it.” She waggled her fingers over her mouth and whispered, “I bet Hercules has a humungous …heart, too.”
Eiley groaned. “Oh my god,stop!”
“C’mon, don’t you miss it?”
“Miss what? Making myself all bent out of shape for some man who doesn’t even know how to use a washing machine? No, I really don’t.”
“I don’t mean relationships. I meansex.” Harper said that last word far too loudly. Eiley considered bolting for the door and never returning, only glad she had her back to the rest of the pub. She’d never been all that comfortable discussingthosethings. Never had reason to, either. Beyond a few cringeworthy fumbles at school discos, Eiley had only ever been intimate with Finlay, and she’d had more orgasms with the shower head than with him.
“I’m getting another drink,” Eiley said, grabbing her empty wine glass. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“Eiley!” Harper tugged her back before she could stand up. “You do know that you’re allowed to have casual sex, don’t you? You don’t actually have to like Hercules. You just have to like how he makes you feel. And by the way you both looked in the shop, youreallydid like that.”
Eiley paused, lost for words. She supposed she hadn’treallyknown that. Other people had casual sex. Went out on Friday nights to find somebody to hook up with, flirted with co-workers or friends or, in some books, best friend’s brothers. But she wasn’t other people.
Yet heat flared between her legs at the idea that shecouldhave sex if she wanted to. That she almost had with Warren. What would it feel like to be with somebody new? Somebody who set her alight with just a few kisses the way he had?
Subconsciously, she rubbed the spot on her collarbone where his teeth had nipped her skin. “When, exactly, do you think I’d have time for casual S-E-X?”
“I’m a bit concerned that you can’t even say the word. Sex. Sex, sex,sex!” Harper threw her hands up like she was making an important declaration.
“Oi!” Graeme’s gruff voice travelled through the pub, silencing the conversations around them. “Come here, you randy pair! I want a word.”
“Now look what you’ve done.” Eiley ducked her head in shame, wobbling her way over to the bar – the long way round, so she wouldn’t pass Warren. Her fingers trembled against the stem of her wine glass, a twist of nausea runningthrough her when he didn’t so much as turn around, though with Harper’s exclamation, he must have known she was there. Everyone did.
Finally, he was ignoring her, like she’d wanted, and … she didn’t want it.
She perched beside Harper on the barstools, sporting sheepish grins as the landlord surveyed them.
“Evening, Graeme,” Eiley said in an attempt to break the ice.
“I’m all for equal rights and all that business,” Graeme grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, “but maybe don’t shout the wordsexin front of Mrs Boyle over there. She looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm.”
Eiley twisted to find the retired primary school teacher, had, in fact, stopped scribbling in her crossword book to shoot them daggers, jowls shaking and her usually pale complexion now a violent beetroot purple.Whoops.
Harper winced. “I understand, Graeme. Ever so sorry. May we have another glass of wine each?”
