Discovering Stella (2 page)

Continuing to
spit
blood and
mumble
expletives while fiddling with his nose, he was also firing me intrigued glances. Guilt surfaced
as
I watched him struggle, so I relaxed
my
stance and stepped toward him.
“You
scared me,
that’s
all.
Here,”
I offered,
taking
another step and stopping just shy of his side. “Let me have a look and see if
it’s
broken.”

He
narrowed his eyes at me
for
the slightest of seconds then dropped his hand so I could take a look.

“Oh,”
I whispered, impressed, observing his
dark-blond
hair, currently pulled back in a ponytail.
Holy shit!
My
eyes disobediently continued to travel his features, finding his light bluey-grey ones curiously studying me
as
I stared at him. I was surprised to admit it,
but
the man was
not
bad at
all
in the looks department, except
for
the fact that he had a nice ribbon of blood across his face.
“Oops!
I’m
sorry,”
I apologised, breaking
out
of
my
unusual gawk. “Hang
on
a second. Let me get something from
my
car
to
help
clean the
blood.”

Opening the
door,
I delved inside, reaching
for my
handbag and pulling
out
a travel packet of wet wipes and tissues. I then made
my
way back to where he was standing and pinching his nose.
“Don’t
pinch up
there,”
I scolded, huffing with irritation. “Pinch your nostrils and lean forward just
slightly.”

“What are you, a nurse?” he retorted in a high-pitched, nasal-
toned
voice.

I
couldn’t
help
laughing, because he sounded ridiculous,
but
also because, yes, I was a nurse.
Well, I used to be.

“Here,
take these tissues.” I leaned
into
him.
“I’m
just going to clean around
here.
Okay?” I asked, concentrating
on
wiping his face clean so that I could inspect his nose.

His eyes widened at
my
close
proximity,
which made me pull back just
slightly. “Sorry. Here, you
do
it.”

“I
can’t,”
he replied, in his
nasal
voice.
I looked up and tried to suppress
my
smile.
He
smiled in return, and this small exchange was
all
that was needed
for
me to recommence the cleaning and inspection of his face by tentatively raising
my
hands toward his nose again. “Do
you
mind?”

He
shook his head
as
if to say that he
didn’t
and let go of his nostrils, so I gently placed
my
fingers
on
both sides of his jaw and tilted his head in
order
to assess the positioning of his nose. I also checked
for
instant bruising, of which there was
none.

“I
didn’t
mean to hurt
you,”
I confessed
quietly, not
meeting his eyes
as
I inspected the bridge of his nose.

“I’m
not hurt,”
he mumbled, gruffly.

Giving him a
sure-you’re-not
rise of
my
eyebrow,
I continued
my
examination, locking eyes with his.

They say the eyes are the windows to your soul; gateways that reveal your inner self.
Yet,
for
me, they are also the true narrators of our hearts and give
an
insight to our well-kept secrets — secrets I wanted to remain hidden. And
it
was
due
to feeling this way that I
broke
our stare and focussed
on
his nose again.

“So far so
good,”
I explained, almost breathlessly.
“Tell
me if this
hurts.”

Trailing
my
fingers up the
stubble
on
his
jaw,
until they finally
stopped on
the bridge
of
his nose, I
applied
a gentle pressure in
order
to feel
for
any
bone deformity.
When
he
didn’t
respond,
I flicked
my
eyes back to his and became acutely aware that his
gaze
was fixed
on
my
mouth —
my
discovery uncontrollably stirring feelings and sensations that
were
nice,
but
forbidden.
Forbidden,
because I had made
it
that
way.
Forbidden,
because
that’s
what I deserved.

Dropping
my
hands, I took a quick step back.
“It’s
fine,
but
here,”
I said, offering him the wet wipe,
“you
may want to clean the rest of your face when the bleeding finally
stops.”

He
nodded
and
accepted
the
wipe,
which
was
when
I hastily
made
my
way
to
the
driver’s
seat
of
my
car
and
sat
down,
swivelling
my
back
to
him in
order
to
create
some
much-needed
distance.
Oh my
god! What
was
that?
A
sudden
and
overwhelming
sense
of
con
fusion
and shame washed
over
me,
making
my
cheeks tingle
and
flush with
heat.
Yeah, he’s
good-looking,
but
shit
...
get
a
grip,
Stella.
Closing
my
eyes
briefly,
I shook
my
head, then reluctantly pulled
my
phone
from
my
handbag and scrolled through
my
contacts, stopping when I found
Todd’s
number.

“What are
you
doing?”
Tall, Blond
and Handsome asked from his
position
by the
car
door.

I startled, turning to look up at him while shielding the
sun’s
rays from
my
eyes with
my
hand. “Calling
my
stepbrother to come pick me
up.
He
lives in
Pittstown,”
I explained.

“I
live in Pittstown. I
can
take
you
there —”

“Thank you,
but
I
don’t
get
into
cars
with strange
men.”
I pressed
dial
on my
phone.

He
cocked
an
eyebrow at me, and let
out
a derisive puff of breath
as
my
call
connected.

Todd
answered with a chuckle.
“Stel, you
lost?”

“No, worse,”
I groaned.
“I’ve
broken
down roughly
fifty
kilometres south of
town.”

“Shit!
You
serious?”

“Yes!
Why would I be lying?” I asked with astonishment.
All
right
...
granted, I used to play pranks
on
him
all
the time — when I was twelve years old —
but
that was fourteen years ago, and
I’m
a mature woman
now.

“Okay,
sit
tight. I’ll give Lawson a
call.
He’s
the local mechanic. Hopefully he
can
drive
out
and pick
you
up.”

“Thank you,
Todd,
but
please hurry. If I were
an
egg, I’d be fried solid right
now,”
I whined.

“Stel,
it’s
not
that
hot.”

“Bullshit,
it
isn’t.
It’s
hot
and sticky. I
don’t
know
how
you
cope.”
I fidgeted uncomfortably in
my
seat. The summer heat
on
the Victorian
border
was
not
the heat I was used to in Melbourne.
It
was so much
more
severe and merciless.

Todd
chuckled again.
God, I missed him.
“Suck
it
up,
Stel Bel.
I’ll send a knight to rescue
you
as
soon
as
I
can.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and
thanked
Todd
before disconnecting the
call.
By
this
stage, Tall,
Blond
and Handsome had stemmed the flow of blood from
his
nose and
was
cleaning the
last trace
off
his
face. “So, did you sort out —” he
began
to ask, but
was
interrupted by the ringing of
his
phone.
Pulling
it
out, he smiled broadly to
himself
as
he answered. “Mate,
what’s
up?”

I watched
as
he placed the soiled tissue in his pocket while
leav
ing his hand resting
on
his hip and, considering he was in a pair of denim jeans, polo t-shirt and steel-capped boots, I assumed he was unbearably
hot
— temperature hot, that is. Hell, I was unbearably
hot
just looking at him.
It’s
so hot. So
stinkin’
hot.
It
seems to be getting hotter by the second.

Feeling flustered, I leaned
over
my
centre console and stretched
for my
bottle of
water,
taking
a quick swig and finding
it
to be a little too warm to quench
my
thirst.
Damn it! Damn this heat.
The fact that I was sitting stranded in
my
stupid
car
wasn’t
helping; neither was the radiant heat which bounced off the bitumen surface and attacked me with force, the assault resulting in me feeling
overly
clammy.
I needed a reprieve, so I lifted the hair off the back of
my
neck and gently poured
some
of the water there to cool myself down.

Unfortunately,
the lid was
not
screwed
on
tight enough and the water came
out
with a gush, saturating
my
already sweat-dampened singlet
top.
“Shit!” I muttered.

Tall, Blond
and Handsome seemed to stumble
on
his words, which was when I looked up and noticed him staring at
my
drenched
front
...
my
soaking and
now
see-through drenched front.

I glared at him then quickly crossed
my
arms
over my
chest.

He
chuckled,
but
then his eyes widened at what the person
on
the other
end
of the
phone
was saying.
“No
shit, really?”

His eyes met mine, his expression speaking mischief, desire,
excitement
and potential.
It
was
an
expression that made me a little nervous.

“Of course I can. Leave
it
with me
...
yeah,
you
owe
me,
all
right,”
he said playfully before disconnecting the
call
and placing his
phone
back in his pocket.

Feeling a little awkward, I raised
my
eyebrows at him
as
I hugged myself. “So, um
...
thank
you for
saving me from a pain
ful
burn. And once again,
I’m
sorry
for
head-butting you,
but
you
really
don’t
need to hang around.
My stepbrother,
Todd,
has a friend coming to pick me
up.”