but unless there was a reason for a call neither of them picked up the phone. And when they did their conversations were brief, borne out of necessity only and usually avoided if possible.
Seb had tried to talk to Cal after Cal had been injured in a cricketing accident, an accident that had almost cost him his left eye, but even then they had never got to the heart of the problem. Neither of them were much good at discussing their feelings.
But despite their lack of communication they still shared a brotherly bond. They had relied on each other growing up. The sons of high-achieving surgeons, they had spent a lot of time by themselves, supervised only by nannies. Perhaps that was why they had never learned to discuss their feelings—the nannies certainly hadn’t encouraged it and Seb couldn’t remember many family dinners or even much support in times of crisis. Not that there had been many crises, just one big one for each of them in their adult lives. They’d been lucky really.
But their childhood bonds had remained strong and Cal had always had a bed for him. Until now. Which brought him back to the question of what Luci was really doing here. And what did it mean for him?
He ran his hands through his hair. It was thick with dust and sweat from hours encased in a helmet. He still needed a shower. The sea breeze wafted through the balcony doors, carrying with it the fresh scent of salt. Perhaps he should go for a swim instead. The cool water of Sydney Harbour might be just what he needed to stop his brain from turning in circles.
There was no light coming from under Luci’s door so he stripped off his jeans in the living room and pulled a pair of swimming shorts from his duffel bag. He left his house key under the flowerpot on the back balcony and jogged barefooted down the stairs and crossed the road to the beach. The sand was cool and damp under his feet and the water was fresh.
He didn’t hesitate. He took three steps into the sea and dived under the water. He surfaced several metres offshore but the water was shallow enough that he could still stand. The sea was calm and gentle and refreshing but it wasn’t enough to stop his head from spinning with unanswered questions.
Vickers Hill, South Australia. He’d never heard of Vickers Hill. How the hell had Callum ever found it? But if the girls there looked like Luci, he couldn’t blame him for wanting to visit.
He turned and looked back across the beach to the apartment block. It was a small complex, only three floors, and Callum’s apartment took up the top floor, but there was nothing to see as it was all in darkness. But he could imagine Luci, sleeping in his bed. The image of her, at the moment he’d first seen her, filled his mind.
In his bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin, her blue-grey eyes huge with apprehension. He’d got just as much of a shock as she had but at least he’d been semi-clothed. He’d been unable to see anything but he’d known that beneath those sheets, his sheets, she had been as naked as the day she was born.
As she had sat up in bed the covers had slipped down, exposing the swell of her breasts, before she’d clutched the sheet tightly, pulling it firmly across her chest. He’d had his T-shirt in his hand, halfway to the shower when he’d discovered her, and he’d had to surreptitiously move his hand so the T-shirt had covered his groin and his reaction. It had been pure and primal. Lust, desire.
He knew he’d let his eyes linger on her for a few seconds too long to be considered polite. Had she noticed?
Her eyes had watched him carefully. Her face was round with a heart-shaped chin and she had lips like a ripe peach. She was thin but not skinny and she had firm, round breasts that it was impossible not to notice. He’d seen them rise and fall under the sheet as she’d panicked. He could have happily watched her breathing all night.
His eyes had been drawn to four small, dark freckles that made a diamond shape against the pale skin on her chest. One sat about an inch below her collarbone, another on the swell of her right breast with a matching one on the left, and the fourth one, the one that formed the bottom of the diamond, was tucked into her cleavage. The pattern was stamped on his memory.
He should have given her some privacy, backed out of the room, but he’d been transfixed.
He closed his eyes now and floated on his back but he could still see Luci’s pale skin decorated with the perfect diamond imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. It was late and he was physically exhausted but he knew there was no way he’d be able to sleep. Not yet.
He flipped onto his front and swam further into the harbour. In the pale starlight he could see the outline of his boat tied to its mooring. With long, fluid strokes he passed several other boats floating on the water as he swam out to his cabin cruiser.
His hands gripped the ladder at the stern and he pulled himself up onto the small ledge at the rear. He ran his hand over the smooth, sleek lines of the cabin as he made his way round to the large, flat bow. He stretched, resting his back against the windscreen. This boat was his sanctuary. He’d bought it almost three years ago as a project. It had good lines and plenty of potential and had been advertised as needing some TLC or a handyman’s touch. He was no builder but he was good with his hands and he’d figured the learning curve would keep his mind occupied, which was just what he’d needed at the time. He had needed a project, a focus, something to keep him busy, so he could avoid dealing with his alternate reality.
Three years down the track he had made good progress emotionally but he couldn’t say the same about the boat. It was still far from finished, although he had managed to get it to the stage where he could enjoy a day out. The engine worked, as did the toilet, but the kitchen and sleeping berths still needed serious attention. That was his current project, one he intended to finish while he was back in Sydney this time. He had an appointment scheduled for tomorrow evening to meet a cabinet-maker who was, hopefully, going to make new cupboards for the kitchen. While it was far from perfect, it didn’t matter. It was perfect for him.
The boat represented freedom.
Seb didn’t want to be tied down and the boat gave him a sense of having a place in the world without commitment. Eventually, when the renovation was completed, he planned to live aboard. Having a boat as his place of residence appealed immensely as he could close it up and leave or take it with him. It would be a fluid living arrangement, transient enough that he didn’t have to think of living aboard as settling down. It wasn’t a big commitment.
He wasn’t ready for commitment. He’d tried it once, with disastrous results.
Luckily for him Callum didn’t show any signs of settling down either, which meant he always had a place to crash. It was reassuring to know that he had a place to stay that didn’t require any commitment from him. Was that immature behaviour? Perhaps. Irresponsible? Maybe. He hadn’t thought about what he’d do if Callum ever did settle down. At least he hadn’t until tonight.
Seeing someone else in his room—he always thought of it as his, even though he was an infrequent visitor—seeing Luci in his bed, made him wonder what he would do if Callum ever wanted to make changes. What if he wanted to rent out that room or live with a girlfriend? Either one would put him out on the street.
Was he being selfish? Taking advantage of Callum’s generosity? Was it time he grew up and stopped relying on his big brother?
But no matter what Cal’s intentions were, being tossed out onto the street by Luci was still a possibility if she was uncomfortable about having him share her space. He’d told her he would stick with Callum’s plan but what if she decided she didn’t want him there?
One thing at a time, he decided. He’d only been back for five minutes. It wasn’t worth wasting time
