‘It’s just biscuits,’ he replies. ‘But, yeah, I’m definitely a hero.’
I playfully shove him away, only for him to grab me and pull me close to a squeeze. I can’t help but burst into laughter.
‘Oh, aren’t they adorable,’ Tiggy calls out. ‘Couple of the year.’
Chester clears his throat.
‘After the two of you, obviously,’ Tiggy tells him.
I look over at Beau – I can’t help myself – to see if he looks bothered. He’s smiling, like everyone else, but then I see it. That flicker of tension in his jaw, the brief narrowing of his eyes. Is he jealous or am I deluded?
It’s probably the second one but, come on, a girl can dream.
31
Dinner – tonight of all nights – was a very welcome sight.
After a hike powered exclusively by biscuits, and a packed lunch that had to be thrown in the bin after being left to sweat on the hot bus for a few hours, everyone arrived home absolutely starving.
It’s funny, because I suggested we stop somewhere to eat on the way home, but it was pretty much universally agreed that everyone was too inappropriately dressed and needed to shower and get changed. So Bea called ahead and arranged for dinner to be prepared slightly earlier than usual… however, she did still factor in enough time for everyone to wash and change. When I suggested we didn’t need to ‘dress’ for dinner tonight she laughed – I honestly think she believes I was cracking a funny joke.
So we’re here, we’re in our dining attire, and the food is out. It’s funny because now that the food is out all formalities have gone out of the window. People are helping themselves from dishes placed in the centre of the table, piling their plates high – Chester was so hungry he used the ‘wrong’ fork, apparently. As far as this lot are concerned they’re eating like savages right now.Ethan and I, on the other hand, feel a lot more relaxed. I can tell from his body language that this is more his style.
I’m sitting between Ethan and Beau – and then there is Tiggy, to Ethan’s right, which makes me think she may have had something to do with the seating arrangements this evening. I like to think that she has done this so that I can sit with Beau but, I don’t know, she’s all over Ethan like a rash. Part of me wonders whether Beau is my distraction so that she can get to know Ethan better.
‘…there’s one particular painting, in the private side of the house, calledWaiting by the Seaby Antonelli – and it is indeed an original Antonelli…’
I’m trying to focus on what Beau is telling me – he’s been talking about the various artworks in his house for about ten minutes now – but it’s hard not to be distracted by Tiggy laughing wildly at every word that Ethan says. I keep trying to listen in, to work out what he is saying that is sooo funny, but with all of the chatter at the table it’s impossible to focus on just one voice.
I don’t know if it’s because he essentially saved the day with biscuits or what, but Ethan isn’t going down the way I thought he would. Honestly, I thought this lot would hate him. He’s a cheeky boy-next-door, he swears, he drinks, he doesn’t care about any of the silly formalities everyone else at the table lives and dies by. So why does everyone seem so accepting of him? And, well, I don’t know… of me and him. I don’t think I’ve ever introduced a boy to them (good or bad) that they haven’t instantly disapproved of. It’s strange.
I notice Bea staring at me as she swirls her wine around in her glass – almost menacingly.
‘Lana, Ethan, I for one am dying to know something,’ she says, capturing everyone’s attention. ‘How did the two of you meet?’
My heart drops so low I think I might technically be sitting on it right now. I quickly look to Ethan but he isn’t gripped with panic like I am, instead he’s got a devilish smile on his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes. Oh, God, what is he going to say? Whatever it is, I can’t give him the chance to say it, I need to tell the story first – of course, I have to make up a story first, because telling them the actual way we met isn’t a good idea, is it?
‘It’s actually a really funny story,’ Ethan begins.
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out, and Ethan is off on one now.
‘We met at work,’ he tells them.
Shiiiit. Is he actually telling them the truth? Oh, please tell me he isn’t.
‘The first thing I saw was her bum,’ he continues with a cheeky laugh. ‘I wasn’t looking or anything, she had it stuck up in the air – it turns out she was bent over, in front of the vending machine. It’s only as I got closer that I realised she had her arm trapped in it.’
I think this is what you would call a stunned silence – and from me too. Did he really just say that?
‘In a vending machine?’ Seph checks, as though she might have misheard him – although for what, I have no idea.
‘Yep,’ Ethan says with a chuckle. ‘She had her arm wedged right up in there. She got it stuck trying to retrieve a Twix she thought the machine had screwed her out of.’
And now everyone is staring at me, judging me, clearly questioning what the hell is wrong with me.
‘Oh, Lana, really?’ Tiggy says with a laugh. ‘Why didn’t you just buy another one, to dislodge the one that was stuck?’
‘Yeah, why didn’t I do that?’ I reply – mostly for Ethan’s benefit. ‘That would have made much more sense.’
