Page 20 of The Reality of Us
Rico’s hand settled on top of hers, stilling her chopsticks. “Really?”
She pulled her hand away gently, smiling softly at him. She didn’t want him to think she was upset. “Things were different, and there were still good days. Now, can we please stop talking about me? What’s new with you guys?”
“We have some news,” Rico said, lacing his fingers through Dougie’s.
“Now’s not the best time,” Dougie said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What’s going on?” Alice asked, reaching for another piece of tuna sashimi.
Dougie and Rico looked at each other with so much love in their eyes that she had to drop her gaze to the empty gluten-free soy sauce fish littered across the table. Hang on. They were wearing matching rings on their ring fingers. The sushi fell to her plate.
“We’ve decided to get married.” Dougie’s gaze never left Rico’s. Lost in their own world, Rico pulled Dougie in for a quick kiss. They broke apart, and Dougie offered her a guilty smile. “I’m sorry, Alley Cat,” he said. “The timing’s terrible …”
“Nonsense!” Nonsense? Who the hell said that? Had she suddenly morphed into an old woman? “This is the best news ever!” she screeched, and they all winced. Okay, dial it down, fruit loop. But it was great news. Dougie and Rico had always been perfect for each other. She was thrilled for them, so why was her heart thumping so hard? Alice pushed back from the table, needing to burn off the sudden energy racing through her body. She yanked the hair tie off her wrist, twisted her hair into a bun. “Right, we need some champagne. Prosecco. Whatever it’s called.”
“We can toast with these drinks.” Dougie pointed at the three empty glasses on the table.
Alice took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to ruin their big moment with her own baggage. “I’ll run to the pub. Grab a bottle of something nice.”
She could do this.
Owen picked up the tray of drinks and was turning back towards his table when someone charged into him. The black plastic slipped, liquid sloshing over the rims of the glasses. He hissed as three beers and two red wines soaked through his white business shirt.
“Damn it,” a familiar voice said.
Alice.
The sound of glass shattering reverberated throughout the room, mixing with the buzz Owen suspected still followed Alice most places. Her milky skin was paler than normal, and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. A few strands of hair had escaped her bun, giving her a sexy, messy look. Everyone shifted their attention back towards the stage when the microphone squawked, signalling the next round was about to start. Trivia was serious business in Wattle Junction.
“Sorry.” Alice grabbed a stack of serviettes, her hands hovering in front of him like she didn’t know if she should touch him or not. He shouldn’t have wanted her to, but he did.
“Here.” She thrust the paper towels towards him. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“It’s fine.” Owen took the napkins, wiping futilely, clumps of sodden crepe paper sticking to his shirt. This was the cherry on top of his shitty day. It started with a local farmer baulking at his prices, not understanding that ‘mate’s rates’ didn’t mean ‘free’. Then a call from his builder letting him know there were even more delays to his house renovation, but the worst bit? Telling Jessica that Rob was set on a fifty-fifty custody split for Sam. “Can I get another round, Ted?”
“On it,” Teddy said, passing him a dustpan and brush for the broken glass at his feet.
“Please.” Alice reached for the cleaning stuff, her cheeks flaming. Owen didn’t fight her, pulling his shirt out of his pants and wringing the excess liquid into a handful of fresh serviettes. When he looked up, Alice hadn’t moved, her gaze firmly fixed on his torso, where his wet shirt had moulded to his abs. He cleared his throat, and her blush spread to her chest. Ah, he wasn’t the only one who felt the chemistry between them, then.
She busied herself sweeping up the broken glass. “If you leave your shirt at the apartment tomorrow, I’ll get it dry-cleaned for you. And your …” Was he imagining the way her breath hitched? “… pants.”
“It’s fine,” he repeated, grimacing at the reddish-brown stain but really, he had ten other white business shirts.
“Maybe this will stop him from dressing like a tosser all the time.” Teddy winked at Alice as he put two very full wine glasses up on the bar. Something like jealousy roared in Owen’s belly when Alice smiled gratefully at his brother, the easy friendship Teddy had mentioned appearing like they’d known each other for years, not weeks.
“It’s called being professional,” Owen said. “I came from the office.”
“That might be the problem, bro,” Teddy said.
“What?” Owen pulled the sticky material away from his chest, indignation bubbling inside him. He was in no mood for ribbing, friendly or not.
“Why were you still at the office at almost eight? Skip out early next week and come for dinner beforehand. There’s always a crew from footy here before trivia.”
Nice of Teddy to mention that before. “I’ll try.”
“And …” Teddy looked Owen up and down.
Owen gave up on his shirt, leaning over the bar. He dropped the mountain of sodden, crumpled paper towels into the bin. “I won’t wear the suit.”
