Chapter Forty
My heart hammers against my ribs as I spend the next ten minutes trailing Niamh; my lifeline and strength in my resolve. We mingle, she introduces me to a smattering of people; names and faces that scarcely register as I sense his eyes following my every move. In my absence, the poisonous Jen all but drools over him, flicking her hair manically and tittering like a total twat. I can’t blame her, not really. He’s taken off his t-shirt, revealing abs you could use to grate cheese. I hate how the sight of Jen makes me almost want to pee on him myself. Obviously, not kinkily... each to their own, even if I can’t imagine what people find sexy in that.
But I feel sick with jealousy, and I want, irrationally, to tear the girl’s head from her shoulders.Sofia, Jen, either would do. I watch him peripherally, a bitter sickness twisting my insides. At the end of my forbearance and seething red-hot, I excuse myself from company, deciding to cool my anger in the pool. If Niamh senses my mood, she doesn’t say.Maybe she grew some tact?
Loosening my sarong to the tiles, I lower myself into the water and swim a cool length, coming to rest at the far side. Folding my arms across the pool edge, my legs are buoyant beneath the water line. To my right, Kai now stands at the edge of the cabana, one half of a deep-looking conversation with Niamh. His face wears an intense sort of look, while Niamh stands with hands braced against her hips in full-out teacher mode. I’m pleased I’m not in earshot and I don’t care if she ischewing his head.
Submerging my head in the now tepid water, I twist and push away from the wall. Halfway across the pool, I come to the surface much quicker than I should, not that I’ve intended to at all. I burst from the water like a flying fish as a head emerges from between my legs. I hang onto the head like grim death, as Matt links my feet under his armpits. Somehow, I’m securely seated on his shoulders.
What the hell?
‘Have you completely lost the plot?’ I splutter through the water, wiping it from my eyes and simultaneously struggling to stay upright.
‘We need a girl for the game. Yourboyfriendwon’t mind.’
Wading through the water, Matt approaches a group of guys who all appear to have precariously balanced girls on their shoulders. Behind me, Kai and Niamh stand no longer talking. Hand over her mouth, Niamh’s shoulders heave, but my heart begins the backstroke in my stomach acid at the dark look of displeasure clouding Kai’s face.
‘What? Are you twelve or something?’ I swat Matt firmly across the head, but I’m still stuck. Short of thrashing around like a tantrum throwing toddler or thrusting my groin into the back of his head, I can’t see how I can get down. ‘Let me go,’ I hiss, bashing him again.
‘If you’re in the pool, you’re fair game. Building rules,’ he says, laughing.
Before I have a chance to reply, a brightly coloured striped ball glides towards me. I swat it away from my head, back in the direction it came from, drawing my neck into my shoulders, like some turtle/girl hybrid. I think I also squeal, but the ball continues to travel back and forth without heed.
Concentrating on staying upright, I can hardly think straight as I imagine Kai’s gaze burning holes through my back. I make a few feeble attempts at avoiding the ball before it sails towards my head once more and, leaning far over to my left, I somehow manage to unbalance Matt. He falters, losing his footing and we fall inelegantly into the water as one. Swimming quickly from his grasp to the edge, I climb clumsily from the pool, and don’t look back as I approach Kai, now stretched out in the shade of the palm trees on the sun lounger where I’d earlier left my towel and bag.
‘Hey,’ I say softly, standing dripping wet at the edge of the lounger. His torso is now covered and dark aviator frames hide his eyes, but his mouth, set in a grim line, tells me all I need to know. Unexpectedly, I feel like a child awaiting punishment; an unpleasant sensation, I recall. Reaching for my towel, I run it through the ends of my wet hair. ‘You’re mad.’ The whispered mother of all understatements as I wrap the towel loosely around my waist.
‘I thought I’d made my feelings clear.’
‘You can’t be serious. That was an ambush!’ My voice rises in octaves. I try to regulate it; I don’t want to cause a scene. ‘But I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, it’s only a game.’
‘A game?’ he repeats. ‘Then why aren’t I having fun?’
Parting his legs over the bed, he lowers his feet to the tiles and motions for me to sit in the newly created space. I move towards him without thought, skittering across the tiles like iron filings drawn by a magnet. My tension lifts a little, his mere proximity heating my wet skin, though he makes no movement to touch me, or even speak.
‘Please, Kai. I don’t want to fight over some stupid misunderstanding.’ I slide my feet into my platform sandals, more something to do than a necessity.
Leaning his head against mine, he moves my wet hair to one side. It’s a tender gesture, I imagine, to those looking on, at least. I shiver as the warmth of his breath kisses my damp shoulder.
‘Another man’s head between your legs is perfectly explicit, don’t you think?’ His lips touch my skin before his body withdraws.
‘But that wasn’t—it shouldn’t, I mean... My words trail off, involuntary images blazing through my mind. His tone is inscrutable, making it hard to judge if he’s hurt or angry, but still my mind reels. I regret my earlier words, but should I really feel contrite for something I had no part in planning? There’s no intimacy involved in a game of volleyball, even if his head was... where it was.
My eyes slide to the pool, my gaze finding Matt’s. I don’t think I imagine his smug look.
‘I’ve no interest in Matt. I don’t play games, I—’
I’m silenced by his finger against my lips as, arm around my waist, he pulls me against his chest. ‘Passion and anger are sometimes sides of the same coin, don’t you think?’
My brow furrows as I turn my head over my shoulder. Is he being deliberately obtuse? ‘Look, Kai, I don’t understand. What are you playing at here?’
‘Playing? We aren’t.’ He sighs, adding so softly, I almost don’t catch it, ‘more’s the pity.’ His slumps back against the bed. ‘Just forget it.’
‘You confuse me,’ I whisper.
‘I confuse myself when you’re around.’
And again, his words are so quiet, I’m not sure I hear right.
