Twenty-three ~ Twists

"Single."

The word tasted funny as I said it out-loud to myself in the mirror, hoping that would help it sink in.

Alastair was gone. Well, not completely gone. Whether or not I liked it, he was part of me; he'd been a part of me for a very long time, by my side as I'd grown from an inexperienced girl to a confident woman.

Despite that, I still felt like I'd changed more this summer than during the last three years. I'd had a glimpse of something different, something that had transitioned from a distressing unfamiliarity to a comforting contrast.

But Alastair was more than a place, an environment, an etiquette. He was a familiar presence with whom I'd shared memories and milestones. My first boyfriend. My first lover. A comfort. Rock. Pain in my backside. Someone with an uncanny knack to both protect me and make me feel vulnerable.

I could leave London, but Alastair's impact on my life would stay with me, wherever I went.

"Ah, Rosalie," Mum said when I strolled into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge door. "It's such a shame Alastair had to leave early..."

"Business calls," I said as I pulled out a yoghurt and let the door the swing shut after me.

I hooked my foot around the leg of a dining chair to drag it back from the table, then sat down on it, tearing the lid off my yoghurt.

"It's just a pity about the wedding," she said. "In the excitement of Alastair arriving, I added him to the guest list as a precaution."

"Yeah, that is a shame," I said, with as much regret as I could muster. "I'm sure everything will still go smoothly, though."

"Hmm," she murmured to herself in contemplation. "This is such an enormous opportunity. If I impress here, I might create a new client-base out in the US. It'd be good to expand overseas."

She finished wiping down the worktops and strolled to the sink to wring out the cloth. I watched her do it, humming an unknown tune to herself as she continued to potter about, and wondered if it made her happy having control over every aspect of her life.

It would explain why she liked to influence my life and choices. I knew she wanted what was best for me—we just disagreed on what that was. She believed it to be stability, whereas I believed it to be happiness.

I wanted to be honest with her and admit that Alastair and I were over, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Things were good between us at the moment, and I didn't want to risk rocking the boat or disappointing her. The scariest thing about admitting the truth isn't saying the words; it's seeing the reaction.

~~~

"Pizza is one of the greatest inventions on Earth." Mia sighed in bliss, tearing off a slice of Pepperoni.

I nodded my agreement as I munched through my own slice, my hand poised beneath my chin to catch any dripping cheese. We sat cross-legged on my bed with two large pizzas between us and an open bottle of wine.

"Pizza cures everything," I said. "So, how are things with Austin?"

"We talked. It was weird seeing him be serious with me for a change and... I don't know... maybe I preferred it when we had a fun relationship."

She paused to bite off a mouthful of pizza. Swallowing, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and then reached down for her glass.

"It's gone from one extreme to another," she said, after she'd taken a sip. "Funny and flirtatious to serious and affectionate."

I nodded. "I suppose talking about it has made it serious."

"Yeah." She sighed. "We said we'll see how things go. I'm just glad everything's out in the open now. Obviously I'm not happy about what happened, but I can't have it both ways, you know? I can't say I want something casual and fun, but get pissed if he's messing around with other girls, too."

"It's more a case of respect. If you don't know each other and you're hooking up with other people, fine. But to hook up with your friend, and then also hook up with another friend, that's shady."

"True," she said. "And I think that's why it got complicated and we needed to take a step back. Maybe this time next summer when it's all blown over..."

"Who knows?" I smiled, taking a sip of my wine before reaching to top up Mia's glass.

"So... Now you're single..."

I laughed and shook my head. "Don't even go there."

Her brow furrowed. "Why not? You've only got a few weeks left, so that's not enough time for the two of you to get serious, but enough time for fun, right?"

"Brent's pissed off with me and I'm getting to the end of my tether with him, too."

She rolled her eyes. Despite not seeing her for a few days, we'd still been texting to keep her updated on my most recent exchange of words with Brent.

"But he's got a point," I said. "He thinks I was stringing him along or using him as a distraction in place of Alastair. I don't want to prove his point, thinking that I'm only interested now Alastair's out of the picture."

"Explain that to him, then."

"Why would he believe me? He's right. I've never given him a reason to trust me."

"So give him a reason," Mia said, as if that were the simplest thing in the world. "Prove you're not the person he thinks you are. After all, if you know the reason he's got a problem with you, surely you know how to fix it?"

Had I not spent the summer trying to do just that? Perhaps he didn't believe I'd gone out of my way to prove him wrong. I'd claimed I didn't care about having lots of money, but I'd bought him a pair of Ray-Bans. I'd tried to demonstrate I could be relaxed and chilled, but I'd blown my top at Austin and Brooke. And I'd tried to show I cared about him, but then I'd ran back to Alastair.

Despite my efforts, I hadn't taken that extra step. But what was it? How could I prove that reputation, image, and money didn't matter to me as much as he thought it did?

~~~

On Saturday morning, with butterflies in my stomach, I sauntered down to the beach. When I reached the bottom of the stone steps, I noticed Brent's attention turn in my direction. Knowing he'd seen me made the trek across the sand feel even longer, and my nerves intensified.

I'd run through a couple of speeches earlier on, but I knew I'd forget them all and end up improvising. That was probably why my first sentence sounded like some kind of aggressive attack.

"I've got a proposition for you," I said.

Brent cocked his head to the side as he regarded me with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. But then he lowered his shoulders and raised his eyebrows.

"Go on..."

Despite acknowledging my presence at the foot of his chair, he didn't come down to me. Maybe this was a new method of enforcing his superiority—being above me, literally.

"A wedding, next Saturday."

He let out a short laugh before I could continue. "Sorry, Rosalie. We don't know each other well enough for that level of commitment."

I narrowed my eyes, partly due to annoyance and partly due to the blinding sun. I'd expected this conversation to be far from easy, and Brent had apparently decided that sass was the way to deal with me.

"Can you please come down here? I'm getting a sore neck from having to look up at you."

He considered it for a few agonising seconds before complying. When he jumped off the last rung, the fronts of our bodies collided, hard abs flush against my thin t-shirt, a concoction of sun cream and salt infusing the air between us.

A tingle jolted through my spine at his proximity. His masculinity and undeniable attractiveness. To regain composure, I took a step away before continuing with my speech.

"You know I'm out here because my mother is planning a wedding," I said.

He nodded. In that characteristic lack of awkwardness, Brent's eyes remained on mine. For the most part, I held his gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. Unfortunately, no amount of faked confidence could help me to maintain his stare while delivering my next sentence. My eyes flitted to the ocean as I spoke, trying to remain calm and casual.

"Right. Well, I want you to come as my date."

He laughed. "Good one, Rosalie."

"I'm being serious," I said, folding my arms.

"Why isn't your boyfriend accompanying you?"

I could have confessed, but if Brent knew we'd broken up, he'd assume he was a rebound. I'd tell him once I'd hopefully proved I was a girl who didn't care which guy she had on her arm. Besides, withholding information wasn't the same as lying. Right?

"Alastair has flown back to London. And he was never on the guest list, anyway, not from the beginning."

A small, knowing smile crossed Brent's lips. Folding his own arms, he leaned against the chair, his amused attention trained on me.

"But then he turned up here, they added him to the list, and now he's gone back and there's a spare place that needs filling?"

"There's no spare place," I replied, narrowing my eyes. "Like I said, he was a last-minute addition."

"I don't think I'm date material, Rosalie, particularly not for the kind of wedding your family would be organising..."

I took a deep breath before replying, determined not to look away this time, so he understood I was serious. "Well, I think you are. And I want you there."

He raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I'm not buying it. How about we cut the bullshit and you start being honest?"

My stomach tied itself in knots again at the intensity of his fierce expression. It was a challenge. A dare. Every day I'd felt vulnerable at the hands of Alastair, but the vulnerability I experienced in front of Brent was totally different. With Alastair, I'd lacked control. Brent was giving me the option to take control, to relinquish the power voluntarily, to choose how this played out between us.

Pain registered in my palms as I clenched my fists and battled against every instinct within me until I caved under his darkened eyes.

"Fine," I said. "I want to prove you wrong. I want you to like me. To understand me. To know that regardless of whatever bullshit is going on between Alastair and me, I still want to be around you."

Heat swept through my body—not from the blazing sun or my attraction towards this unfairly handsome man, but from sheer fear at having let my guard down in front of him.

When he didn't reply, that fear only strengthened, until I couldn't help but snatch back some of the power I'd handed to him.

"Besides, you say I've not given you a chance to prove your opinion wrong. But neither have you. You're still acting like a judgemental and close-minded dick, so here's your chance to prove you're not."

"Wow, when you ask me so nicely, how can I possibly refuse?" Despite his dry response, amusement lightened his eyes.

"Is that a yes?" I asked.

For a few seconds, he shifted his eyes towards my house. Before I could wonder if that was coincidental or not, he fixed his focus back onto me.

"Sure," he said. "When is it?"

"A week today."

He nodded and then turned to climb up his ladder again without another word. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze. I froze. My fingers curled around his bicep, but the second his eyes flickered down, I yanked my grip away—no doubt creating even more awkwardness than the initial arm grab.

Touching his body evoked memories of the kiss, reminding me how it had felt to have his soft mouth on mine and his muscular chest pressed up against me as my back scraped the solid walls of the sand dune.

"Um." I clasped my hands together to stop me from accidentally grasping him again. "I was just going to say that it's my birthday the weekend after, so I'm thinking of having a party down here and it'd be good if you came."

"Sure. Someone needs to stop you from stumbling into the water."

"Actually," I said, refusing to entertain his joke. "I meant it'd be good if you could come properly."

He arched a brow, folding his arms, and a few moments later I realised what I'd implied.

"No," I said, my eyes widening in horror. "I didn't mean... I just meant... not like..."

"Spit it out, Rosalie. Unless, of course, that's not your style..."

Our eyes connected and my embarrassment reached a whole new level. Caught off guard, any chance of remaining cool and composed disappeared. Not only did the crude insinuation cause me to writhe in mortification, it also conjured up very inconvenient, sexual thoughts about Brent. With our earlier power battle, I couldn't help wondering how Brent would react if I got on my knees in front of him—giving him total control.

"Stop it." My gaze flickered everywhere but at him—the sand, the sea, the chair...

"You started it. This conversation has been full of surprises from the beginning. How am I supposed to guess where you'll take it next?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I said through gritted teeth. "I meant I'd like you to come as a guest, not a lifeguard, so you can have a good time and a few drinks, rather than stressing over people ending up in the water."

He pursed his lips together as he considered it. Perhaps if he was unable to switch off on the beach, it'd be better to have the party in my house again. After all, I needed to show him that I wanted his company at the party, not just as an extra person to babysit.

"If you promise to stay out of trouble, I can try to avoid being such a lifeguard."

I smiled. "Deal."

He offered me the smallest smile in return. This summer had changed me, or at the very least it had allowed me to behave differently. I knew that. So did Mia. I just needed to convince Brent. 

As with most things in this world, it was much easier said than done.

~~~

Thank you for reading :) xx

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