Spark (16 page)

Perhaps there’s hope for us yet.

****

Christmas is only a couple of weeks away. Dad has moved out, and won’t be here to spend Christmas day with us.
He
decided it would be better for everyone to have some distance. I bet he couldn’t wait to leave … to be with that bitch in Sydney. Whoever the hell she is, she’s nothing but a home-wrecker. She’ll be lucky if she never meets me. There would be nothing but choice words to come out of my mouth.

I simply can’t deal with this shit.

****

Another late Saturday night with Alex, but tonight I’m feeling braver than ever. It seems to take a bit more alcohol than usual to get drunk, but I’ve definitely had my fill. Tonight, I’m determined to get him naked.

I try to take his pants off. He resists.

I try a different angle. He resists.

I try
harder
. Alex grabs my hands, and holds them behind my back.

“
Sweetheart
… I’d fuck you so hard, I’d fuck you into next Sunday, but I don’t think that’s what either of us wants,” he says coolly, his hazel eyes drilling into mine. Either of us? He doesn’t want to sleep with me?

“How do you know what I want?” I say, surprised at the loudness of my voice. He has no idea what I want. Why the fuck would I be trying so hard to get him naked if I didn’t want to?
Who does he think he is?

“I know your type. You’ll want to marry the first guy to pop your cherry.”

He did
not
just say that!

“No, I won’t,” I protest, knowing that a very small part of me wants the fairy tale. I
want
to be swept off my feet. I
want
my first time to be special.
Surely I deserve that?
My heart rate quickens, a shudder causing my breath to catch in my throat. What emotion is my body trying to process? Anger? Fear? Sorrow? Thinking back to my relationship with Jon, and now to Alex, I realise that, with my luck, a fairy tale is all it will be. It will never become a reality. Not for me. I’ll be twenty-one, and still a virgin. Then I’ll be twenty-two. I might as well get it over with.

“You say that now, sweet Genevieve, but I know what will happen, and I don’t wanna be that guy,” Alex responds in a deadpan voice.

He turns, and takes off his shoes and empties his pockets. Fuck he’s arrogant. He is so full of his own self-importance, so challenging, so frustrating. He drives me
completely
crazy.
So why can’t I stay away? Hello, brain? Are you there?
I know he’s not the ideal choice, but it’s not like eligible bachelors are banging down my door.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re
never
going to sleep with me because you’ve type-casted me?” I am taken aback that he sees me like this. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for being a virgin.

“Never say never, sweetheart.” Urrgggh!
Stop calling me fucking sweetheart!
How can the way he says that one word be so demeaning, and not in the slightest bit endearing as the term should be.

“So, you’ve obviously had experience. Do you make a habit of deflowering young virgins?” I blurt out, sarcasm evident in the tone of my voice.

“Hey,” Alex says under his breath, as if trying to soothe a savage beast. He saunters over to me, his arms weaving around my waist, and pulling my hips against him.

I try to distance my upper body by leaning away, but he shuffles me a few steps back against the wall. He brushes his lips over my neck, and around my ear. I don’t know what my body is doing, but just like that, I want him to touch me. “I like having you around … playing with your sweet body.”

Alex brushes my hair from my face, and places his hands on either side of it. He kisses each cheek, and raises an eyebrow. “Come on. I know what’ll help you relax.”

A resigned puff of air leaves my mouth.

I give up.

I’m tired. I’ve had too much to drink, and don’t have the fight in me.

Whatever makes you happy, Alex.

****

“So who is she?” I pace back and forward in the lounge room as I wait for an answer from the other end of the phone. I waited for Crystal to duck out for a few things for our late Sunday lunch. I don’t need an audience for this.

“Genevieve,” he says, in the same commanding tone he used to use when I was in trouble.

“Tell me. Who is it? I’ve got a right to know. You must be living with her.”

Dad lets out a loud sigh. “Beverly Cook.”

“WHAT! Mum’s friend.” I strangle a sob in my throat. No, no, no. He can’t be with her. My hands start to shake, tears on the verge of erupting down my face.

“You don’t understand, Genevieve. Your mother wasn’t herself …”

“Don’t you
dare
try and justify it, or say she drove you to it, or help … me … God, I will drive to Sydney, and knock you to the ground. Mum is an angel. She devoted her whole life to our family, and I know she was frazzled for a while there, but maybe if you had’ve spent any fucking time with us you would have shared the good times, too.”

Silence. Well, except for the loud thumping of my heart trying to claw its way up my throat. He’s got nothing to say. I’m not done talking yet.

“Do you have
any
clue …
any
clue at all how hard the last few years have been? What kind of man deserts their family when they need them the most? In sickness and in health and all that?”

Silence.

“And her friend? Are you trying to put her back in the psych ward? Don’t you care for her at all?”

“Of course I do. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he mumbles.

“You didn’t mean for it to happen. What the fuck? I suppose you’re going to tell me you slipped over, and your dick
accidentally
went inside that woman? Please, I have a brain in my head. Something I thought I got from you.”

“When you’re ready to speak to me like an adult, Genevieve, I’ll talk to you,” Dad says, his voice laced with anger.

Well, get fucking angry, because I sure as hell am. If he were standing in front of me right now, I would slap him so hard across the face. I don’t care if he is my father.

I grind my teeth in my jaw. “
Nothing
you say will
ever
make me forgive you. I don’t want to speak to you again.” Hot tears stream down my face, but I resist the urge to sniff back my runny nose. I don’t want him to know how much this hurts.

“But what about your birthday? It’s your twenty-first. I can’t miss it, it’s a milestone.”
Is he fucking kidding?
Does he expect to play happy families in front of everyone? Does he think I would put Mum through that torture? She’s had more than her share.

“You
will
miss it, because you’re NOT fucking invited.”

I hang up the phone before he gets the chance to mutter another word. I’m done.

I sink to the floor, draw my knees up, and run my hands through my hair.
Push it down, Eevie, push it down deep
. You’re never speaking to him again.

After a few minutes, the tears stop, and the walls don’t seem to be closing in on me as I’d imagined. I’ve said what I needed to say.

The door swings open. Crystal’s arms are loaded with shopping bags. The smile on her face drops as her eyes connect with mine. She drops everything, and kneels beside me.

“Eevie, what is it?” she says, delicate frown lines appearing across her brow.

“That was the last time I will
ever
speak with my father.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Come on, let’s have some lunch, and then I’m going for a long run.” See if
that
will help clear my cloudy head.

CHAPTER NINE

On the homeward stretch of my run, with the sun starting to set, I make a snap decision to drop in to Alex’s. Instead of thinking about my conversation with Dad, I’ve shifted focus to my man problems. I normally don’t see him on a Sunday night, but last night he really threw me with the “you’ll want to marry me” comment. It’s been bugging me ever since, and I’ve got some things I want to say.

Alex’s Jeep Wrangler is parked in his carport. It really is a cool car, albeit bright yellow and black. It certainly says “look at me”, which is
so
Alex. I buzz the intercom, and Alex answers almost straight away with a “Yeah”.

“It’s me,” I chirp into the speaker. The door buzzes open. Although I’m a bit anxious about going inside, I’m determined to take charge of this conversation.

As I climb the stairs, my heart rate picks up. I wonder what the end result will be.
Will we end up naked in his bed? Will he fuck me so hard I’ll wake up, and it’s next Sunday?
A giggle leaps from my mouth. I need to settle myself before he opens the door. I want him to take me seriously.

Alex opens the door with a smile, which quickly drops, his eyes opening wider. His body stiffens, and he mumbles “Hi”, but seems hesitant to let me in. His strawberry-blond hair sits in wet clumps, and he’s only wearing a pair of boxer shorts.
Interesting
. He must have just gotten out of the shower … and he smells good.

“What are you doing here?” he says shifting from foot to foot.
What’s up with him?

“I was in the area.” I smirk, as I push past him to move inside. He follows me to the kitchen.

“Well, clearly you were. You only live two blocks away,” he replies with sarcasm. He turns his head to the large clock on the wall, staring at it for a few seconds before his gaze returns to me.

“I was on my way back from a run, and thought I’d drop in for a chat. I don’t think we
quite
finished our last conversation.” I try to convey my words with an air of confidence. I’m not sure if I succeeded.

“Really?” Alex questions, his hazel eyes lighting up with interest. Feeling thirsty, I realise I have no idea where he keeps his glasses.

“Can I have some water, please?” I mumble as I wipe sweat from my forehead.

“Sure.”

Alex takes a glass from an overhead cupboard, glancing at the clock again as he fills my glass.
Am I interrupting something?
I could ask, but I’m on a mission. I’m taking charge of this conversation.

I scull down the water, and put the empty glass in the sink. I would have preferred something stronger to summon some courage, but it’ll have to do.

Right.

The conversation.
Here goes.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

Alex’s eyebrows knit together. “How so?”

“You know, the whole
I’ll wanna marry the first person I sleep with
thing
. Firstly
, I object to being type-casted. You barely know me, so you don’t get to make that judgment.” I raise my eyebrows, and move towards him.

He leans casually against the bench. I boldly push my hips up against him, and run my hands gently over his bare chest, sprinkles of ginger chest hair tickling me. His chest expands beneath my hands as his breathing becomes heavier.

I feel empowered by my boldness, which is further encouraged by his undivided attention and … his silence. Yes, keep quiet. I need to finish.

I pause, revelling in this feeling. “
Secondly
, don’t be offended but … I don’t want to marry you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I silence him by putting a finger to his lips.

“Besides, I don’t even know how well you perform in bed, and I think that’s quite important to establish before jumping to those kinds of conclusions. Don’t you?” I really want him to take me seriously, but I find it so hard to contain my grin.

Alex’s body relaxes somewhat beneath my hands, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“Quite the negotiator, aren’t we? I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing this side of you, Genevieve, and quite frankly, it gets me hard.” Alex pushes his hardness against me, warmth spilling throughout my body, pooling between my legs … my body telling me exactly what I want.

I breathe in deeply in an attempt to find some calm. I’m not done yet.

“Thirdly,” I call out loudly, trying to get myself back on track with at least some seriousness. “
Don’t
call me sweetheart.”

“Duly noted.” Alex grins, and moves from beneath me before I get a chance to kiss him. He snatches his phone from nearby, quickly does something with his back to me, and then puts it aside.
Did he just send a text?
How rude. Here I was thinking I had his undivided attention. I frown at him as he returns, grabbing my arse with both hands and pulling me against him. Heat and hardness radiates from his boxers.
Oh, my.

“Have I got your attention, Alex?” I motion my head towards his phone. I’m enjoying playing this game … being so assertive. I’m usually so timid around him, and for a change, he’s taking notice.

“Just work,” he says as he starts nibbling around my neck.

I exhale deeply, as if a weight has been lifted, his mouth taking my mind elsewhere.

He leans me back against the cupboards, his eyes burning a trail down my chest. “So, you think you can come around to my place … strut around all sweaty in your tight running gear, and question my sexual prowess?” His voice is stern but laced with lust.

“I think that’s a reasonable summary.” I smirk, my fingers twirling his chest hair.

“And when you planned your little visit, did you give any thought to the
consequences
of this, Genevieve?” His cautionary words are slow, no doubt a deliberate move as it ensures I absorb every word.
Crap
.
Am I going to get into trouble here?

“Why don’t you enlighten me,” I provoke, with a smidge of hesitation.
Careful, Eevie
.

“Perhaps I’ll show you. Actions do speak louder than words.” Alex seizes my hand, and pulls me over to the couch. He sits and pulls me over his knee, his hand gently rubbing my arse cheek. “I really should spank this perfect little arse of yours.”

Surely not
. He’s joking, right? I don’t know if he is—the tone in his voice is different. Darker. Devious.