He made eye contact with Curtis, who smiled weakly, and he suspected his old friend was about to ask him to say hi to Sal. Or possibly if they were single. Byron walked away without shaking hands with anyone. Curt had always been a decent guy, but he could get fucked.
Derek might know rising stars liked nothing better than fucking an ex-legend’s wife, but Byron knew all about players having a laugh by smashing the coach’s daughter, girlfriend, sister, anything. No one was doing that to Sal. They were still performing in drag shows, and Christ knew what else, but they’d found stability since moving back to Melbourne and getting their early childhood qualification. He’d be damned if the likes of Ingram were going to fuck that up for them.
Becoming a dad had given Byron a new appreciation for his sister. Sal had been there late at night when he’d needed someone to play 3am Minecraft with. They’d come to visit Simon a half-dozen times, paying for their plane ticket and refusing to take his money. He was looking forward to spending more time with Sal in Melbourne, but that picture did not include letting them within ten feet of some boneheaded defender who thought ‘non-binary’ was a computer thing.
Nope, Curtis Ingram could get all the way fucked.
As he settled into an Uber, his thoughts returned to Beth and the night that lay ahead of him. He pictured coming home and felt a pang. He missed his wife. His son. Right now, all he wanted to do was order dumplings and cuddle on the couch.
Derek spoke in his head.Horny fantasy, bloke. Not gonna lead to frustration on Beth’s end, I’m sure.
Groaning, Byron stared up at the car ceiling.
“Get rhythm,” he told himself. “Do it.”
He pictured Beth in bed, all sweet and sleepy, her pretty eyes half open… but that was too cosy. He pulled out his phone and opened his folder of Beth photos. There were plenty of hot ones, but that only increased his longing to hold her and tell her how beautiful she was. Scrolling, he stumbled on a picture he didn’t recognise.
It showed Beth kneeling on a picnic blanket in shorts and a tight white t-shirt, pouting her lips, and he remembered saving itoff her Instagram right after they first met. He’d been so fucking jealous of whoever had taken the picture. He knew it was a guy, probably her asshole ex-boyfriend, Stephen. The man who’d been able to fuck her that night instead of him.
Studying the image now, Byron saw Beth was holding a wineglass—a blast from the past because the woman he knew never drank. She had to be in her late twenties, at least, but she looked like a uni student. Her cheeks were round, and her freckles stark, and he just wanted to chew on her pretty pink lips. That wholesome, redheaded, good-girl thing had always driven him wild.
He’d dated a few models before Beth, but what he could never make her understand was how her warmth—obvious even in an old, out-of-focus photo—shone in a way he’d choose over his exes every single time.
Lucky you married her then, bloke.
Suddenly, it came to him: how tonight could work. If Beth was going to be his hot nanny, she couldn’t be his wife. The role of his wife needed to be temporarily played by someone else. And it was all too easy to imagine who. His last serious girlfriend, the one he’d stupidly considered marrying when he was too dumb to know better, had been one of the models. Audrey was tall and skinny and Beth fuckinghaaaaaaaaatedher. They’d run into Audrey at one of Willow’s parties months ago, and while he’d felt nothing for his ex-girlfriend, she’d gotten shitfaced and put her arms around his neck, slurring about how she missed them being together. But before Byron could disentangle himself, Beth—four months pregnant and stone sober—had grabbed Audrey’s ponytail and yanked her backward.
“Get your hands off my husband and crawl back into the malnourished hole you jumped out of,” she’d hissed. “And if you’ve got any fucking sense, stay there.”
Audrey had run off like a scared ferret, and Byron had gotten laid like flat-pack furniture that night, Beth riding him hell for leather while she all but audibly cursed Audrey’s name.
It was a little risky, bringing up his ex during roleplay, but it also seemed in keeping with the fantasy. Beth would probably like nothing better than to home-wreck the woman who’d tried to do the same thing to her. And if Byron was being honest, he liked the idea, too. It was all too easy to picture him and Audrey, unhappily married with a kid and nothing to talk about.
“… Until the sexy redhead with big tits comes in,” he muttered, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s a man to do?”
“Say something, mate?” The Uber driver called.
“Nope. It’s all good.”
Byron exited Beth’s photo and opened the messaging app. It took him a while to compose the right text, but he had it right by the time he arrived at Tullamarine Airport.
Thanks for staying late with the little guy, Beth. Audrey and I really appreciate it. I’ll drive you home when I get in. Thanks for being such a great nanny. Byron x
4
Beth coated her lips in a final layer of pink gloss. Considering that the tutorial Sal had sent her promised a ‘clean girl’ aesthetic, her make-up took a ludicrously long time to do. But no one could deny she looked good. She’d curled her hair at the ends and pushed it back into her tortoiseshell headband. She looked preppy and cute. Uni-girl-esque, if not quite uni-girl-legit.
Unable to help herself, she picked up her phone and re-read Byron’s text. Somehow, he’d understood. Not just understood but embraced and enhanced her fantasy. When she’d first read Audrey’s name, she’d almost screamed in horror, but a second later, she was beaming like a total goofball.
While she had no intention of starting actual drama with Byron’s ex, she loved the idea of one-upping that bitch. She’d been such an asshole at Willow’s party, cosying up to Byron like he hadn’t been there with his wife. She was living in Bondi these days, flogging a range of collagen gummies that cost as much as a used car. The woman whom Beth called ‘Vitamin Bitch’ in her head—and to her friends—was the epitome of everything she’d never be. Tall, pedigreed and rich-girl hot. It lit her up like theliquor she hadn’t drunk in years to imagine getting her hooks into Byron while he was with her. The ego boost alone could power a nuclear bomb. And as long as no one ever found out Vitamin Bitch was an unwitting participant in their sex game, what was the harm?
“Nothing,” she mumbled, pressing a fingertip to her cupid’s bow to correct a little spillage. “All’s fair in love and roleplay.”
She put her Rimmel gloss and some concealer into the cute little backpack she’d bought and took the whole thing downstairs. She wasn’t sure what time Byron would get in, but she wanted to be in place. She arranged her work laptop and a few blank exercise books on the dining table, planning to be working on her ‘assignments’ when he came through the door.
Taking a seat, she opened a Word document of podcast ideas and stared at the screen without seeing a thing. It felt like being sent back in time to the days when she was obsessed with twenty-five-year-old mystery man Byron Thomas. He, of the beautiful smile and broken soul. That, in and of itself, was such a rush.
Enjoy it, she thought. Don’t try to make it last. Just have fun while it’s here.
