Page 68 of So Wild

“…to get me out of the fucking way,” Sam finished. Blood was thudding in her temples like heavy metal. So that’s how it was, huh? Family loyalty over friends? Pretend peace all the while schemes ran rampant? More mean spirited pranks to fuck over her family when it was at its most vulnerable? She remembered the smooth way Scott had ordered the wine and food. God, how did she ever think someone like him was interested in her, all broke and covered in tattoos? And all that shit about wanting a proper date instead of a shag, as if any man on earth wanted that. She remembered the pie, smashing across the back lawn. Her stomach roiled with nausea. How did she think he wasn’t capable of betraying her when he’d already done it? When he’d already cut her so deep? Well, he wasn’t getting away with this shit again.

“Did my sister say anything else?” she demanded.

“Um, to please not to do anything psycho and that if you’re not home in half an hour, she’s going to call the police.”

Typical.

“Thanks.” Sam pulled open her bag and extracted ten bucks and her notepad and pen. “Can you do something for me? I’ll pay you.”

“Sure! Um, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh. Just peachy.” Sam scribbled Nicole’s mobile number on the notepad and handed the paper and the money to the waitress. “Please call my sister back and tell her I’m fine and going out for drinks with my friend, Kelly. Also, tell her if she calls the cops on me, I’ll call the cops on her for that thing she did to my suede skirt in year eleven. Make sure you mention the skirt.”

“Hell yeah, thanks for the cash.” The waitress tucked the money into her apron and slipped out of the bathroom.

Delaying the moment when she would have to put her plan in action, Sam withdrew her lipstick from her bag and painted her mouth scarlet. Shecouldtalk to Scott, ask for an explanation, storm out, go home, but she was done playing nice. Their almost lifelong association was about to be terminated and she was going to give him a nice parting gift.

She left the bathroom to find him standing at the reception desk, his hands in his pockets. His face was smooth and utterly calm. How couldn’t she have seen that he was playing her? Acting all excited and love-struck. God, she was such an idiot. She straightened her spine and walked over to him, smiling as though he’d personally hung the moon. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Scott extended an arm and she took it, thinking all the while about how she was going to make this the worst date of his entire life.

“Shall I call an Uber?”

Sam smiled sweetly. “I’ve got a better idea. How about we hit up a cocktail bar first? I feel like a margarita.”

A small frown creased Scott’s forehead. “Sure, is everything okay?”

She moved closer to him, brushing her chest against his shirtfront. “Yes, I just want to prolong the moment with you. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Scott’s gaze fell to her mouth. “Whatever you want.”

“Great,” she said with a smile. “There’s a great bar on Queen Street. I’ll lead the way.”

Chapter 13

Scott’s head wasswimming. The cocktail bar Samantha had taken him to was lovely; dimly lit with dark wood tables and red velvet curtains. He’d hoped they’d nurse a single drink before heading back to the hotel, but Sam had ordered a tequila-tasting board and he’d decided to roll with it. That was several hours ago. Now she had an arm through his and was guiding him toward his hotel room while he focused on keeping every stupid thought in his head from burbling out of his mouth.

Samantha, you’re so beautiful, I’m so glad I came home to Melbourne and saw you again.

Samantha, I want to make love to you so badly, but only if you want me to.

God, I hope I don’t throw up later.

His vision seemed to wobble as Sam steered him around a pair of bickering teenagers. How had this happened? Yes, he’d had a bit to drink, and yes he’d been too nervous to eat much, but he waswankered. And how?

Christ knew this wasn’t his first rodeo. His mates drank like their trust funds depended on it and he’d spent his first two years at Cambridge learning to hold his own. He’d thought he was well versed in the art of boozing, but here he was, laid low by a bottle of wine and a few cocktails. Well, not just that. He’d barely gotten any sleep for the past couple of nights thinking about Sam and their date and what it would mean if they finally,finally, got things together. Even his morning coffee had made him feel light-headed. He should have known better than to pile alcohol on top of that feeling.

“Look out,” Sam said happily, directing him around what looked like a fresh patch of vomit. “Someone’s all partied out early.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, happy it wasn’t him.

Getting drunk wasn’t a complete arsehole move, not if Sam was still enjoying herself, but how was he supposed to perform six sheets to the wind? He needed coffee or cocaine orsomething. He contemplated telling Sam he needed to buy condoms and instead buying a bunch of those caffeine pills truckers used, but then she might think he was the kind of prat who didn’t pre-prepare for safe sex and he was not that kind of prat. He was the kind of prat who couldn’t safely moderate his drinking. As though to prove his point, he stumbled over a crack in the pavement.

Sam gripped his arm, stopping him from falling over. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Jesus Christ, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. “Is the hotel much further? Actually, don’t worry. I’ll look it up on your phone. Can I have it please?”

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