‘Ladies.’ Snowie leers. ‘Nice night for it.’
‘If you reckon,’ the Italian girl says, passing another bottle off to her friend.
‘Hey, we were just having a conversation, me and my mate,’ Snowie says, skewering Amie with his next glance. ‘We were saying we thought you were an Ouyen girl. Is that right, you from over that way?’
‘Um, yeah, over that way,’ Amie says stiltedly before glancing at me. ‘Uh, hi… Yeah, I’m not really from Ouyen. But I know a few people along that strip.’
‘You’d know my dad, then,’ Snowie goes on. ‘Col Geraldson, at the Five Flags.’
‘Oh, yeah, right.’ Amie makes a forced smile. I don’t think she’s putting this on. ‘Yeah, I guess. Oh, yeah, so you’re Snowie. Right, great.’
‘Thought you might be up for a bit of a dance, then,’ Snowie says, waggling his eyebrows. ‘Take a turn on the floor, yeah?’
Which makes it sound as if he’s gonna waltz with her, and I know that’s not what he’s got in mind. Not unless waltzing involves copping a feel at the same time.
‘Or you might like to dance withme,’ I suggest, giving Snowie an obvious nudge. ‘You’re hogging the mic, mate, give it a rest. D’you wanna have a dance with me?’
I turn a desperately neutral face towards Amie, and she takes the hint straightaway.
‘Oh. Um, yeah. Sure. I’ll have a dance, um…’
‘Harris,’ I supply.
‘Harris! Right!’ Amie says, and this girl deserves a fucking Academy award. ‘Sure. Shall we…’
She offloads her beer with her friend, the other Indian girl, and leads forward to the dance floor. I give Snowie a smirk as I follow her, just to maintain the illusion, then me and Amie are jostled together by the press of bodies, and we can talk.
I start with, ‘Do you know where the hell you are?’ and she starts with, ‘Shit, I didn’t know you were gonna be here!’ and both of us are sort of whispering and glaring while trying not to look too suss.
In this situation, though, my panic wins out. ‘Amie, you’ve got to get the fuck out of here.’
‘Don’t you think I bloody know that!’ she hisses. ‘Shit, Bee wanted to come out with me after jaago –’
‘D’you know how close I just came to clobbering Snowie when he spotted you?’ I cup her elbow. ‘I nearly had a fucking heart attack.’
Amie turns us both, keeping up the pretence of dancing. ‘I’m sorry. Shit. This is bad. Robbie dragged us all here and now we’ve bought drinks –’
‘You need to go.’ I push myself towards her. ‘Like, right now. Take your mates. Snowie knows you’re the sarge’s daughter, it’s not safe –’
‘How the hell am I gonna do that?’
‘Easy.’ I press in close as I can, close enough so it’s obviously not just a consequence of being thrust forward by the crowd. God, she smells incredible.
Amie’s voice goes breathy. ‘Harris –’
‘This is how you’re gonna do it,’ I say. ‘First, I’m gonna do this.’
I snake a hand around her waist, settle it just above her tailbone, and rub it slowly back and forth. The purple fabric of her dress makes smooth bunches under my palm, and the friction makes my eyes shut of their own accord. Then – god help me – I slide my hand down lower.
Lower.
Amie stiffens against me. I lean my face down so my mouth is nestled under her ear. ‘Now you’re gonna look shocked.’
Amie pulls up short. ‘You want me to look shocked?’
‘Yep.’ I glance at her expression. ‘That’s pretty close. Now you’re going to push me back, and slap my face.’
‘What?’
