47 Things Page 5

  “Hey, Tyler, check out what we got you,” Nancy said, holding up what looked like a tray of sausages. “They’re fucking organic and everything.”

  “Thanks, Nanc,” Tyler smiled, laughing as his friend, Heath wrapped his arms around Nancy’s middle and said something lewd about his ‘sausage’ before he buried his face in her neck and made a gnawing sound, reducing her to a fit of giggles.

  “So, organic’s the thing, hey?” I said once he sat beside me. The fire had just gotten going, and against the orange and pink of the setting sky, it looked amazing in the centre of the darkened bush.

  He shrugged. “The body’s a temple and all that,” he said, leaning back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky. “Fuck it’s nice out here. Kind of makes me miss home, you know?”

  “You ever think of going back?” I asked, leaning down so I was on my side and propped on my elbow as well, watching his face in the orange glow of the fire.

  “Do you?”

  I shrugged and picked up a dried gumleaf before breaking it between my fingers. “I go back sometimes. They want me home for Christmas, and they'll come up here for graduation. If you want, I can go to your dad’s farm and tip the cows over.”

  He grinned. “You’d do that for me?” he asked jokingly.

  “Well, I know you have issues with your dad, and it’s kind of something I’d go and do anyway…”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “Now I don’t feel so bad about the times we pushed your cows over,” he said, and it caused the smile to fall from my face.

  “As long as you weren’t one of the people who put the steel wool wig and oversized glasses on one then spray painted her hide with my name.”

  His eyes met mine for a moment as his brow creased in a frown. “No, Sarah, I give you my word that I had nothing to do with that,” he said sincerely.

  “But you know who did?”

  “I think so,” he admitted. “And if you’d like, maybe I can go back up there with you some time. We can tip my dad’s cows together, and at the same time, I’ll take you to confront Johno.”

  “It was Johno?” I asked, surprised because I’d thought Johno was a friend.

  “Johno could be an arse,” he explained, and in a way that was all the explanation I needed, because he was right, Johno could be an arse.

  “It’s cook your own if you want to eat,” Nancy said, handing out sticks with sausages stuck to the end of them as Heath went around offering beers again, although he automatically gave Tyler a bottle of water.

  “You don’t drink?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. It messes me up too much so I stay away from it.”

  “Alcohol messes you up, but pot doesn’t?” I ask, watching as he accepted the joint from Alex and took a drag.

  “That’s right,” he said, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth as he offered it to me. I took it, but passed it over to Natalie without having any. I was already mellow enough.

  “OK, so how do we do this? Just stick it in the fire?” I asked, spinning the long stick between my fingers and causing the sausage to pirouette on the end.

  “Just near the fire,” he explained, showing me what to do.

  Together, we all sat around the crackling fire, roasting meat while we talked and laughed as the sun set. The air filled with the scent of burning wood and the familiar scent of cooked sausages, making it feel like the ultimate Aussie evening filled with drinking and smoking then eating and drinking and smoking some more. It was one of those nights when you felt really connected to the people around you, and you talked about anything and everything. It was fun – way more fun than I ever thought a broken ankle could be. I didn’t want it to end, because as the moon rose in the sky and the fire burned low, Tyler wrapped me in his arms to keep me warm, and as I sat between his legs and leaned against his chest, I had the most amazing feeling of belonging. When he spoke his voice rumbled in my ear, and when he laughed, his chest bounced against my back, his hands were entwined with mine and our arms were braced around my middle while his thumb moved soothingly, back and forth along the skin on my forearm.

  As the moon rose higher in the sky, I realised with a sadness that Uni was almost over, and that in my efforts to hate on Tyler and live in my own little world, I’d been missing out on nights like this, and soon it would all be over – we’d graduate and move away for work, and there’d be no more dirt bikes and bonfires.

  I thought on it for a long time, growing quiet as the fire burnt down to mere embers and the cool crept in further. I shivered, and Tyler reached behind him and grabbed the jersey he’d been riding in and held it out to me.

  “Here,” he said, working it over my head like I was a child who couldn’t do it for myself. Although, I didn’t protest. It smelt amazing like he did, and it was big and warm against my cool skin.

  “Thanks,” I said with a smile, as I watched him lie back then hold his arm out for me to join him.

  Settling in, I rested my head in the dip of his shoulder as we both looked up at the night sky with thousands of stars blinking back at us.

  “The sky is so clear out here,” I commented. “I think that’s probably the only thing I really miss about Moama. I miss all the stars.”

  “Did you know that it takes so long for their light to reach earth that most of the stars we’re seeing have already burned out?”

  “I did,” I said quietly, my eyes moving along each twinkling light. “It’s kind of sad, and the brighter they burn the sooner they die.”

  “They’re beautiful while they last,” he whispered, before he wrapped his arm around me tighter, and I moved to rest my head on his chest and drape my arm across his waist. Then he pressed a kiss against the top of my head before running his fingers through my hair soothingly, making me sleepy with each gentle touch.

  “Why does everything always have to end?” I asked, thinking both of this conversation and of my thoughts before.

  “Because forever is really only a short while,” he responded immediately, and I fell asleep thinking that on top of everything he was, Tyler was also wise.

  6

  NOTHING HAPPENED between us that night. Tyler simply held me then woke me at dawn and brought me back home like a good friend. Then over the next week, I saw him daily. It was like he was my warden and was making sure I showered, ate properly and got some fresh air before he returned me to my apartment and grumbled about the death trap my staircase was. He wanted to carry me so I didn’t fall, even though I wanted to do it on my own.

  In the end, I allowed him to piggyback me down the stairs as long as he left me to make my way up on my own.

  “This isn’t working for me,” he stated on the Sunday afternoon. He’d taken me to the local markets, where I picked up a really pretty clip for my hair and some coloured socks that I’d planned to cut and stretch over my cast so it didn’t always have to be purple.

  “No one’s asking you to come around every day. You can stop whenever you want without giving me a break up speech,” I retorted, jumping to the defensive immediately.

  “I’m not talking about you, sweetheart. I’m talking about your apartment.”

  “Well, there isn’t much I can do about it now, is there?” I sighed, taking a seat on the couch, where I immediately opened the drawer beneath the coffee table and took out some scissors to begin cutting into my new socks.

  I was currently wearing a pair of coral coloured shorts, and a white cotton baby doll blouse, so I first chose to cut the toes off the socks with a floral pattern on them that looked nice with my shorts.

  “Much better,” I said, as I held my cast up to admire my handy work.

  “Cute,” he said. “Although you should probably paint your toenails to match.”

  His response caused me to laugh. I didn’t even expect him to care about the sock on my cast.

  “OK. The polish is in the cupboard in the bathroom.”

  Hearing him rummage around in my cupboard, I felt suddenly concern
ed about what might be in there and made a mental list of everything I could remember from most embarrassing to least. The most being a toss-up between tampons and condoms – that were likely to be out of date – and the least being a box of toothpaste.

  When he returned, he had a bottle of polish that was almost an exact match for my shorts, and instead of handing it to me, he sat on my coffee table and lifted my foot to rest on this thigh.

  Too surprised to say anything, I watched as he bent his head down and inspected my toenails as he shook the bottle to prepare.

  “There is something you can do,” he said, as he carefully applied polish to my big toe, and I felt my heart swell a little at how a man who was so big could be so gentle and concentrated on his movement.

  “About what?” I asked, watching as he focused on painting each of my toes.

  “About your living situation.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He gently placed my broken foot on the table beside him then wrapped his large hand around the calf of my other leg, and guided me until my foot was resting on his other thigh. I held my breath as he began painting again, this side felt more…intimate as he held onto my foot.

  “I have a spare room. You could stay with me until you’re out of the cast. It’ll only be for a few weeks.”

  I shook my head. “No way,” I told him, trying to pull my foot from his grip.

  He tightened his grip. “Can you just hear me out on this, please?” he asked softly.

  Sighing, I settled my foot back on his thigh and let him finish the last couple of toes, ready to listen to his reasons as to why I needed to stay in his spare room.

  “I spend every day with you anyway, and while I’m not here, I’m worrying about you falling and hurting yourself again, and every time I think about you trying to leave the apartment on your own, I break into a bloody sweat. So if you stay with me, you’ll be doing me a huge favour – it’ll mean I’ll actually sleep because I know you’re OK. But, it’s not all about me, there are benefits to you as well – my place is on the ground floor of my apartment building, and there’s a ramp to get in the front door – you won’t even have to climb a single step, so if you want to go out while I’m not home, there isn’t a death trap awaiting you at your doorway. Plus, exams start next week, and it’ll be easier for us to study and get to those exams if I don’t have to come here first to pick you up.”

  He finished painting and tightened the brush back on top of the bottle of polish then leaned down and gently blew on my nails. It sent shivers rolling through my body that all whispered to me, telling me that I should just do whatever he said.

  “I don’t know,” I said, lifting my foot off his lap. “I’m used to living alone, Tyler, and I really like my apartment.”

  “I know you do, and I’m not asking you to leave it forever. I’m just asking you to stay with me, so it’s easier for me to take care of you while you’re hurt. You wouldn’t deny a man who’s trying to right the wrong he did, would you? I swear, I’m doing my best. I haven’t chewed a stick of gum since that day, and I’ll even give you free physiotherapy sessions when the cast comes off.”

  Something about hearing him talk about helping like he was indebted to me made me a little uncomfortable, and I sat up a little straighter, needing to look away as a gentle sting hit the back of my eyes. “Seriously Tyler, you don’t owe me anything. You’ve gone above and beyond, and if this is all too hard, just don’t come around anymore – stop worrying about me. I’m not your concern.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand between his. His warmth travelled up my arm teasingly, filling my mind with a fogginess that made me want to close my eyes and just fall against him.

  I swallowed hard, extricating my hand from his as I shifted along the couch and stood up. “Just go home, Tyler,” I said, reaching out to slide my arms into my crutches.

  “Sarah,” he pleaded.

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” I stated, heading for my room and closing the door behind me, leaving him still sitting on the coffee table.

  I don’t know what I expected him to do. Maybe I wanted him to burst into my room and tell me I was wrong, and that he was spending all of his time with me because he really enjoyed my company – that he’d always wished we could hang out as friends and maybe, just maybe we could be something more…either way, I knew I was being stupid. He was spending all of his time with me because he felt guilty, and there was no way he would have been there for me under any other circumstance – a point that was only driven home when I heard the sound of my front door open and close as he left my apartment.

  Ignoring the burn behind my eyes and the thickness in my throat, I lay on top of my bed and looked down at my carefully painted toenails with a sigh. Having Tyler around was really messing with my emotions. In truth, I probably needed him to leave before I got too attached to him. Actually, I already was getting too attached to him, and I knew that when he was done ‘helping’ me, he’d go back to his normal life, and I’d be the one left feeling like my life was missing a certain golden boy.

  I supposed he’d just move on and make someone else feel like the centre of the universe for a short time. Lucky them. It didn’t stop me from wishing he’d try to stay though…

  ***

  Should I sleep with Alex?

  The text came through at about 8pm and woke me when its arrival caused my phone to bleat sharply through the quiet of my room. I didn’t remember taking my phone into my bedroom with me, but I picked it up, and with a sleepy eye, I opened the screen, seeing that there were actually several texts from Janesa, as well as a missed call. How did I not hear any of those?

  Scrolling through her messages, I realised she was having a crisis of conscience over what to do on her date with Alex that night. I wondered if I should call her, knowing she was probably already with him. Instead, I decided it was best to just text, and I tapped out a quick message that apologised for not answering and counselled her to do whatever felt right and not feel pressured into anything.

  Once I hit send, I placed my phone back on my bedside table then headed into the bathroom to relieve myself, although when I finished, I noticed that my TV was switched on, and Foxtel was playing episodes of Fringe.

  Swinging over on my crutches in the dark, the soft glow of the television lit the way just enough so I wasn’t completely blind, and as I got closer to the couch, I saw a pair feet, crossed at the ankles where they rested on the arm rest. On the floor below those feet was a black duffle bag, and attached to those feet was a certain golden boy.

  He came back.

  Smiling to myself, I shook my head in disbelief as I lowered myself to sit on the coffee table in front of him where he was dozing on the couch, his chest rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing.

  God he was beautiful like that. Most people I knew would fall asleep somewhere and their mouth would be open or they’d be drooling, or they’d have their head twisted at an odd angle while they snored like a bear. But not Tyler. Tyler looked just as beautiful asleep as he did awake, and my hand couldn’t help but reach out and touch him by running my fingers lightly through his hair.

  I removed it as he stirred, his blue eyes opening slowly to meet mine. I smiled like it wasn’t weird to be sitting in front of him while he slept and said, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he replied, his voice husky from sleep as he smiled back.

  “I thought you left.”

  “I did,” he said as he sat up and ran a hand over his face. “And then I came back.”

  I glanced over at his bag. “So you’re sleeping on the couch now?”

  He bounced a shoulder in indifference. “If you won’t stay with me, I’ll guess I’ll just stay with you. This is probably a better arrangement anyway.”

  Releasing a sigh, I shook my head. “You are one very stubborn man, Tyler Lohan.”

  Grinning, he stood up and stretched his long body in front of me. “S
weetheart, you don’t know the half of it,” he said as he headed into the kitchen, stifling a yawn. “I brought over some dinner – you hungry?”

  “Sure,” I said, watching him as he moved about my apartment like he belonged there, flicking on lights and setting out plates of chicken salad before bringing them over to the couch.

  “You want to watch with me?” he asked, indicating the show on the television.

  “What episode are you up to?” I asked, shifting to sit on the couch with my foot on the coffee table and a plate of food on my lap. “I’ve seen up to the one where they go to the parallel universe.”

  “This is the one about the shape shifters that use that device to transform their looks,” he explained, placing his plate on the coffee table before taking a cushion from the couch and slipping it under my leg.

  “Have you already seen this?”

  “Some of it, yeah. I set it to record like you do so I can watch them all at once. I’m not too keen on waiting week to week,” he said, as he sat down beside me and started eating.

  “Agreed. I want to watch as many as I can in one sitting. I’m a big fan of binge watching TV until I fall asleep on the couch. Speaking of which, are you sure you’ll be all right on the couch. You’re a bit tall for it.”

  “I’ll sleep better than I would at home,” he stated, giving me a meaningful look that made me feel both comfort and fear, because I didn’t know exactly what he was thinking or what his real intentions were. So I just nodded my head and turned my focus to my food and the show on TV.

  After we ate, he took the dishes to the kitchen then returned to the couch and slid his arm around me, hugging me to him as we watched Fringe in companionable silence as the Foxtel box flicked through the episodes. Again, it felt right to be in his arms, but I was wary of thinking it was anything more than just friends after what Nancy had said at the bonfire. I didn’t want to fall for him and get my heart broken like she did. I didn’t want to let him get so close that I was devastated when he did the disappearing act they claimed he always did.