Page 122 of Begin Again Again

Beth touched his wrist. “Keep going.”

“We got up, went to get more drinks. They asked who my roommate was, and I told them it was Derek and they got so fucking excited…”

Rage flashed over his handsome features and Beth could just imagine him seething over the girls’ looks of glee.

“Derek and I had been okay after I hurt myself. He kept telling me I’d be back, but… anyway, the girls asked if they could have a look around his room.”

A cold fist clutched Beth’s heart. “You said yes.”

“I told myself he’d be into it, girls waiting for him and all that, but really…” His jaw shifted. “I was fucking with him. I knew better. They went through his stuff… Neither of us noticed until they were gone, but they stole the watch his mum gave him.”

Byron’s eyes were bright. He blinked them hard. “He hasn’t looked at me the same way since.”

He buried his face in her neck and Beth held him close. There would be a time to ask if he’d ever tried to talk to Derek about this, but it wasn’t now.

After that admission, Byron’s mood shifted, becoming playful and touchy. She laughed at how physical he was. Like a big golden retriever tolerating every tail pull without so much as a growl. She convinced him to lie still, as she traced the lines on his stomach. “Do you know how hot you are?”

Byron blew on his fingertips. “I got asked to model in high school, so…”

“Oh my god, by who?”

“Some agent guy came up to me on the beach when I was fourteen.” He saw the look on her face. “They weren’t a pedophile. Theyweren’t.”

It was dark by the time they considered getting out of bed. Byron stretched his arms. “If we’re still going to head to the beach, we should probably make a move. Get some food.”

Beth groaned. “I guess I should stand up before my legs start to atrophy. And the cats do need to be fed…”

Byron flipped all the sheets off the bed in a fell swoop. “What are we waiting for?”

Fucking in the shower waylaid them for a while, but eventually they got dressed. They left Muffin and Pizza with a heap of dry and wet food and headed out to Byron’s Hilux. Beth texted Josh and told him she wasn’t coming to the party and that she hoped they could still be friends.

“Isn’t that a bit of a cliché?” Byron asked.

“Clichés can be true. I do hope we can be friends. Everyone on the team’s fun.”

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes got that dangerous look and the next kiss he gave her was the slow, all-consuming kind. Her phone buzzed as they pulled apart—a Facebook message from Josh.

Sure. Better you don’t come with the new restrictions up anyway.

Shocked, Beth checked the news and discovered there were eight new local COVID cases in Melbourne. The government had shut the state border and New Year’s Eve party sizes had been reduced from thirty to fifteen.

“That’ll have thrown a massive spanner in the works,” Beth said, showing Byron her phone.

He squinted at the headline. “People won’t listen. They’ll half-ass it, get pissed and have everyone around anyway.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere?”

“We’re going to the beach,” he said firmly. “There’s only two of us and we’ll wear masks whenever we’re inside. 2020 isn’t fucking this over for me.”

Wilson’s Promontory was two and a half hours away. As they drove through the city and onto the highway, Beth intended to make Byron listen to the Maintenance Phase podcast, but they ended up talking instead. About family holidays and school and uni and rugby and the history of engagement rings.

“They’re a scam,” Beth said, chugging her second vanilla Pepsi.

“Everything’s a scam.” Byron tugged the bottle from her hands. “You just have to decide what scams you want to buy into.”

They reached the beach at ten and as Byron predicted, the coastline was packed with partying twenty-somethings.

“Fuckwits,” Beth moaned. “Coronavirus! Social distancing! We’re going to have another huge outbreak.”

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