“What happened to your head?” April asks from across the table.
Huh. I knew this had to come up sometime. Jones’s attention is conveniently diverted elsewhere. Smug bastard. I bet he said something to April. I reckon he tells her everything.
“Funny story, really,” I say and nudge Suds’s knee under the table with my own. Suds chokes on her mouthful of water and takes a few seconds to compose herself. “Maybe one day I’ll get to tell it, but today’s not the day.”
“Aw, you’re no fun,” April says, with a pout.
“I have the feeling that you wouldn’t believe me anyways,” I say, and I wink.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re involved in this somehow, Soph?” April questions her friend.
Suds places her cutlery on her plate and pushes it away from her. She didn’t waste a single bite. Victory.
“You wanna help me carry back another round?” I interrupt. I stand up, and Soph rewards me with a quirky smile.
“Sure,” she says, shrugging one shoulder.
“I was seconds away from stabbing you with my fork under the table,” she informs me when we reach the bar.
A hearty chuckle rumbles up my throat. “I’ll only spill when you give me the green light. I just wish you’d hurry the fuck up.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, because it won’t be anytime soon.”
“That’s unfortunate. Another red?”
“That’d be great.”
“You know you’ve got purple teeth.”
“Really?” She bares her teeth to me.
“Yup. The shade suits you.”
“Shit,” she says, as she laughs softly. “You know I can always rely on you to tell it how it is, De Loser.”
“See? Who says you need a filter anyways?”
She laughs louder this time, more carefree. “For once, I think you’re right.”
“What? Just once? I’m fucking always right.”
“Ha. Don’t be so sure of yourself,” she says.
“I always back myself. Someone’s got to.” Now I sound like a douchebag. No need to go pointing out that I’m pretty much on my own, here. I know V has my back, he’ll always have it, but he’s so far removed from my life right now I forget that he’s still a part of it. He’s not much support for me on the inside.
I carry the beers, and Suds carries a glass of red in each of her hands, the other one for April. “You know I heard you last night?” she whispers as we approach the others. I lean in close and catch the glint of mischief in her eyes.
Now she brings it up? Why not mention it at the bar when we had more privacy?
“You liked that, huh?”
“Nice to know after everything that someone got a result.” Her grin grows wide as my mouth drops open.
What?
“You mean you didn’t flick the bean?”
“It would’ve been like whipping a dead horse. There was no way I was gonna cross the finish line.”
My dick hardens painfully against the seam of my jeans as thoughts of Suds touching herself play out in my mind. It’s stiffening at warp speed.
“Anytime you need a hand in that department, just holler.”
“Or moan,” she says, through a giggle. She’s a funny fucker when she loosens up. It’s good to see her relax a little. Most of the time I see her, she looks deep in thought, whether that’s about her studies or other shit. I kinda like this side of her. Less stabby and intense.
Her elbow rubs against my upper arm as we approach our friends. For whatever reason, this simple physical contact sends a shiver up my spine and more blood to my groin.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “We need to finish this conversation later.” Because in these jeans, I’ll have no chance of hiding a giant fucking hard-on. I’ll end up getting booted out of the pub, and then I’ll have to take care of a monster chubby.
I’ve got a right mind to take her back to the bar where we can talk some more. She seems so much more relaxed here. Is it the wine? The environment? Is she not comfortable at my place?
April and Jones mention something about the wedding, and the girls go off on their own little tangent. I overhear the odd mention of a dress and the name Vicky comes up in conversation.
“We’ll have to get some suits sorted soon,” Jones says with a nod.
“Whenever you want, bro. What were you thinking about doing for the bucks?” I ask, wondering if April is gonna allow the strippers I was always going to organise.
“Thinking about hitting The Gentlemen’s Club in Kings Cross.”
“Surely we can come up with something better than that?”
“My dad wants us to go play golf first. Some sort of Jones family tradition.”
“Fuck that shit,” I curse with a shake of my head. “There is no way in hell I’m putting on goofy fat-arse pants and old-man shoes.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“You know this could possibly stretch the friendship,” I warn. I’m serious, too.
“How about a compromise? You can wear whatever you like, drive the buggy and make sure there’s enough cold beers on hand.”
“Maybe.”
“Loosen up, Rocco. We can do it first thing in the morning, keep Dad and his business associates happy, and then we can get down to real buck business.”
“I think we need to get out of Sydney. Do something completely different.”
“I’ll ask around and see what other ideas I can come up with.”
“And make no mistake, Jones. There will be strippers.”
“With you as best man, there was never any doubt.”
I scull down the last few mouthfuls of my beer, and Jones does the same.
“Who’s up for another?” Jones asks, wide eyed, pulling April and Suds from their in-depth conversation.
“None for me. I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” Suds says to Jones.
I check the clock on the wall behind the bar. It’s just gone past ten o’clock, and she’s pulling the pin now?
“You’re going?” I ask as casually as I can, but my voice comes across as if I’m some kind of whiney prick. “Surely you can stay for a few more? We can celebrate the fact that Jones managed to stay upright this round.”
“Very funny, dickhead,” Jones says.
“Nah, I’m gonna head off. I’m wiped. And we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” she says, with a smile for April.
“You goin’ too, April?”
“Not just yet. I’m keeping an eye on Daddy,” she says, as she tries to spy on Mac and the blonde woman talking at a small table in the corner.
“It’s called stalking him on his first date in years, babe. I’m sure he might like a little privacy,” Soph says, and draws her friend into a hug.
“Oh, shush,” April says, and kisses her on the cheek.
“Night, babe,” Soph whispers.
“Night,” April says, and extends her neck to try and check on her dad again.
“Night boys. Behave yourselves,” Suds says, as she takes a key on a large tag from April. From the bright orange colour of the rectangular key ring, it looks like we’re staying at the same hotel.
“Someone walking with you, Suds?” I ask.
“Nope.”
The place is a solid five-to-ten-minute walk from here. I can’t let her go by herself. Since when have I had a chivalrous bone in my body? Ah, fuck it.
“Want me to walk you?”
She leans in close. Her sweet perfume teases at my nostrils. Damn. Since when does Suds smell this good? Since when am I close enough to really get a good whiff?
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” she whispers. “Remember? Dangerously good aim, right?” She clenches her fists in front of her in a boxing stance.
I can’t help but laugh. “Righto. You punch any fucker that comes close.”
“Will do.”
A funny sinking feeling materialises in my chest as she weaves her way through the crowd and out into the night.
I wanted her to stay. We could’ve talked some more. It’d help me stop thinking about V, and the fact that tomorrow is his birthday. The first birthday he’ll spend without family. Instead, he’ll be in a jail cell, alone. I won’t even be home so he can contact me. Some fuckin’ brother I am.