a miserable day outside. All grey sky with bruised-looking clouds.
‘It’s OK. I know the way.’ It’s Tom, and he must be standing right behind me. My face freezes, and then panic swirls through me. Blooming typical. I brace myself, waiting for him to say something about earlier, desperately willing my cheeks to stop burning. I swallow hard and remember Sam’s advice to brave it out before turning around. But it’s no use … the minute I see his gorgeous smiling face, I crumble.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, nerves making me sound ridiculously shrill. I cringe. His name definitely wasn’t down on the list. Looking taken aback, he hesitates before answering.
‘I thought I’d wait for you. You don’t mind do you?’
‘No, no, I … I guess not.’
‘Great.’ He smiles. ‘Let’s make our way over to the crazy golf then. The others were heading there first,’ he says, cheerfully, gesturing for me to lead the way. I force my legs into action and head over towards the exit, willing my cheeks to stop burning. I’m speechless, and his coolness throws me. It’s as if my utterly embarrassing performance in his bedroom never happened.
We make it to the promenade and manage to find the crazy golf, but the others aren’t there.
‘You OK?’ Tom asks.
‘Sure, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘No reason. You’re very quiet, that’s all. You barely said a word on the way here.’
‘Well, you walk very fast,’ I say, trying not to gasp as I rest my elbow on a nearby wall. It was all I could do to keep up with him, let alone hold a coherent conversation too. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced I want to talk to him, if he’s in cahoots with Maxine.
‘Oh, you should have said. Sorry,’ he says, obliviously.
‘Never mind. Look, they’re obviously not here, let’s go,’ I say, turning to leave.
‘Ahh. But it would be a shame not to have a game at least,’ he says, smiling and making a pleading face.
‘Are you kidding? It looks like it’s about to pour down,’ I say, peering up at the thunderous black clouds.
‘No. Come on, it’ll be a laugh,’ he gestures with his head towards the ticket booth. I hesitate. ‘I love crazy golf,’ he grins again and my guard subsides.
‘Take one of the buggies love … if you’re worried about getting wet,’ the tattooed guy on the booth hollers out to us, pointing to a queue of miniature buggies. I frown, seriously wondering if we’ll both actually fit on the minuscule seat. It would be just my luck to get wedged in and end up making an idiot of myself in front of Tom again.
‘Go on! Live a little. My treat. I’ll sort out the clubs and balls,’ Tom adds, eagerly, already walking towards the ticket booth. I nod. So Nathan was right, he is the perfect gentleman. But then I remember how cosy he was with Maxine in the corridor that time. This is probably all part of their game. Well, they’re not going to catch me out. Oh no no no.
*
‘So, have you played golf before?’ Tom asks. He locks his dark brown eyes onto mine as I turn to face him. My resolve from earlier floats away. He looks incredible. He smells incredible. Vanilla and chocolate. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stop my body from tingling all over with desire for him.
‘Well, a little. My dad used to show me,’ I say, trying to sound normal in spite of my pounding heart. ‘He was a great player,’ I then add, biting my lip at the sudden bittersweet memory.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Has he passed away?’ he asks, gently.
‘Oh no, nothing like that.’ I shake my head. ‘We, err … just don’t see much of each other any more,’ I finish, wishing there was more room in the buggy. His thigh is pressed against mine, and the intensity of his touch feels like a furnace scalding through the fabric of my trousers.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, looking as though he genuinely cares as I remember the happy times with Dad. Once again I reflect that, with everything that’s happened recently, I’ve seen a glimpse of what it might have really been like for him all those years ago. I reiterate my promise to myself to call him when I get back.
We arrive at the first tee, and Tom leaps out of the buggy and hands me a club.
‘Thanks, but I’m left-handed, so this won’t be any good. I’ll just watch.’ Ha! I feel pleased with myself for managing to call his bluff.
‘I know you are,’ Tom says smoothly. ‘But it’s a double-sided club. I checked with the guy on the ticket booth.’ Hmmm. He looks taken aback, and I instantly feel embarrassed by how curt I’m being with him, and secretly flattered that he noticed I was left-handed. He hands me the club, followed by a bag of balls, before heading off. I follow along behind him, studying how his perfectly cut jeans fit nicely around his impressively taut bottom. I remember Sam’s bum-cheek comment, and grin.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Tom asks as I arrive next to him.
‘Yes, yes I’m fine,’ I reply, trying to get my lust under control and keeping my head down as I pretend to be engrossed in the red, white and blue painted wooden windmill at the first hole.
‘After you,’ he says, placing the ball down at my feet. I take a few steps back and get myself into position, even indulging in a few practice swings. He’s standing right next to me now, distracting me with his delicious scent. I take a moment to try and garner some concentration before swinging the club, but I lose my grip and end up narrowly missing his groin when the club flies out of my hands.
‘Whoa! Easy tiger.’ Tom laughs.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ I say, trying to keep a straight face as he cowers down pretending to be petrified. And for a moment I see the face of a much younger man. It’s as if his cool exterior has thawed to reveal a very sweet boy, and it’s so appealing. He picks up the club and, handing it to me, he says, ‘I could give you a quick lesson before we start.’ He looks so eager and enthusiastic.
‘Um,’ is all I can manage as he dashes around behind me and, with his arms either side of my body, he gently, but very firmly, positions my hands into place around the club.
‘OK. Now align your thumbs gently down the shaft,’ he instructs, completely oblivious to the effect he’s having on me. I can feel his warm body pressed against me and then he bends his knees into the back of mine and carefully thrusts them forward a few times to simulate a relaxed pose for the perfect swing. My heart is racing and an exquisite sensation between my thighs makes them tingle with longing. ‘There, that should work better … remember to keep your body relaxed.’ Oh sweet Jesus! I just about manage to nod my head. The silence lingers, apart from the sound of my pounding heart and his breath against the back of my neck. And then a buggy comes into view and the moment vanishes.
‘Thought I might find you here. Not interrupting anything, am I?’ It’s Eddie, and he has a wicked glint in his eye as his buggy performs a spectacular swerve before stopping alongside us. He flashes me a naughty look and Tom springs away from me. I quickly turn and glance at his face. He looks nervous, bashful even. Eddie lets out a stagey cough, winks and smiles at me before mouthing ‘lucky
