Rock My Body Page 4

  And he took off down the beach at a sprint, taking a part of me with him.

  Chapter Three

  Do you feel something here?

  I can feel something there,

  But I’m not gonna change.

  —MONDEZ, “Direction”

  I stormed through the front door, slammed it shut and threw my handbag down on the kitchen counter. Grace lowered the novel she was reading and raised an eyebrow. “I see dinner with your parents went well.”

  Growling, I stalked over to where she sat on the couch and collapsed down next to her. “Don’t know why I bother.”

  It was true. I seriously had no idea why I continuously went back to that house. It wasn’t as though I could change the past. Believe me, if I could, I would have. Over and over again.

  Even Doctor Powell suggested I limit my exposure to Daniella and Stuart. Apparently, they were triggers for me, parental triggers of the gargantuan persuasion, and now I was left feeling empty, unsettled and bloody annoyed at myself. Never a good combination.

  Grace picked up a full glass of whiskey from the coffee table before taking a sip. “Me neither. Woman’s a bitch.”

  I didn’t try to defend my mother because Grace was right, she was the most horrible person on the entire west coast. Honestly, if I Google searched the word troll her Facebook profile would come up.

  She hadn’t always been like that. Years ago, she’d been kind, loving—heck, she even used to laugh. But not any more. Oh no. Now she was the embodiment of coldness wrapped in spite—a toxic mixture, let me tell you. I had no idea why Dad stayed married to her but guessed with the long hours he put in at work, he hardly saw her anyway. It was useless either of us trying to please the woman because, in all seriousness, nothing did. Well, except his bank balance and my outright misery, which therefore meant every time I left their house after yet another disastrous meal, I kicked myself for going in the first place.

  She was impossible.

  He was hopeless.

  And I was deluded.

  I turned to Grace. “Whenever I go there, I’m like this time it will be different. This time she’s got nothing to criticize me for.” I shook my head. “But she always finds something. Every. Fucking. Time.”

  “What was it tonight?”

  I sighed. “My job.”

  Grace snorted.

  “According to Mum, bringing new life into the world is a crap career choice. Apparently, I was raised for better.”

  “Well, you do have to get your hands dirty and you know her opinion on personal hygiene.”

  “That’s not what I meant, G, and you know it.”

  She squeezed my hand gently, her emerald eyes sympathetic.

  I could feel my own eyes well up with tears. “It’s never going to change, is it? I’m never going to be good enough for her.”

  “Wanna know the definition of insanity?”

  “Huh?”

  “Insanity.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting a different result each time.” I stared at her, clueless, while she calmly took another sip of whiskey. “Think about it, Riley. Every time you go over there you assume this Hallmark moment in your head is going to become a reality, only it never does because your mum annihilates it completely by calling you a fucking disappointment.”

  I took in a sharp breath.

  “Total bullshit, by the way. She’s a bitter, soulless old cow who should have been euthanized during the Foot and Mouth epidemic.” She took another drink, then mused, “Maybe I should become a psychologist? Think Doctor Powell would take me on?”

  I was silent for a moment, trying to process it all. What Grace said made sense—well, except for her references to euthanasia and a possible career change—I always naively hoped Mum would see how I’d changed, that she’d mention how proud she was of the person I’d become. But she never did. Not once.

  So, after a while, I murmured, “Oh, my God, you’re right.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I need a drink.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Give me that bottle.” I grabbed it off the coffee table and took a swig, grimacing as it burned its way down my throat.

  Grace stared at me in surprise, shrugged her shoulders and then clinked her glass against the beverage in my hand. Just before downing the remainder of her whiskey, she toasted, “To the asylum.”

  “Daddy?” I pushed his office door open and craned my neck through the small gap.

  He was sitting behind his desk, the deep mahogany surface polished and shining under the lamplight. Daddy’s desktop computer flashed an artificial glare in the otherwise dim room, emphasizing the long, hollow panes underneath his angular cheekbones and sunken eyes.

  It had been months since he’d eaten properly.

  He stared blankly past the computer screen to the family portrait sitting just to the right of it. It was housed in a glossy silver frame and I remember how heavy it felt when I presented it to him last summer as a birthday gift. It had taken ages to get a good shot of us, ages and ages.

  But, there was something in his features—a desperate sadness—which made me question whether interrupting him was a good idea after all. I sighed. However, our latest cook had been firm, if he didn’t come down to the dining room soon his meal would be cold.

  “Daddy?” I repeated.

  He started and quickly made himself appear busy by picking up and rifling through random piles of paper.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Daddy gave a quick shake of his head, mumbling, “Not tonight. I’m not hungry tonight.”

  With an agitated flick of his wrist, he dismissed me, so I turned and trudged out the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

  He still couldn’t look me in the eyes.

  ****

  “You did well in there today, Riley.”

  I swallowed a mouthful of peppermint tea and gingerly leaned back in my chair. According to the barista, it had hydrating and calming properties. However, judging by my pounding headache and shaking fingers—the nasty side effects from dinner with my parents and drinking way too much afterward—I needed to ingest at least a truckload of the stuff for it to work.

  Note to self—whiskey is evil.

  Second note to self—Mother is more evil.

  I took another sip of tea before replying. “Thanks, I’m so glad you were with me, it might have ended very differently otherwise.” I shook my head. It hurt. “I hate when stuff like that happens.”

  I was referring to the difficult delivery Robin and I had just assisted with. The baby’s shoulders became lodged and the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck, so it had been touch and go for a while there. It also served as a strong reminder about why I needed a clear head at work.

  I shuddered.

  Robin’s touch was warm. “You kept your cool and the mother drew strength from that. It’s a crucial skill for a midwife.”

  I looked down at his hand on mine and flushed. Robin’s palm was large, smooth and gentle. I was surprised to find my body relaxing under his touch.

  Surely it’s just the tea kicking in?

  “I mean it, Riley. You were amazing.”

  After smiling shyly at him, I glanced around the small coffee shop, trying to distract myself from the intensity in his gaze and the fact that he still hadn’t let go of my fingers.

  The coffee shop itself was just off the main foyer of the hospital and frequented by staff, patients, their family and friends. We were seated on white wooden chairs with a narrow bench between us. Even though the décor was bright and cheerful with sporadic splashes of orange and yellow, for some reason the ambiance always remained subdued. People must have felt guilty enjoying themselves here. I knew I felt … odd.

  Robin and I had been working together for over a year and he’d never made a pass at me before. So to be hones
t, it was difficult to tell if he was working his magic on me now or not. You see, he was one of those genuinely kind people, the ones who didn’t bat an eyelash at some casual hand-holding or arm rubbing. Which left my current predicament all the more confusing because I couldn’t figure out if I was misinterpreting the heat in his gaze or not. Now, if he’d stared at me with mischievous blue eyes while saying something completely inappropriate about my ass, however…

  Thankfully, my foggy head didn’t get a chance to muddle its way through that conundrum because my phone started dancing its way across the table.

  “Mae’s just gone on her break, do you mind if she joins us?”

  “No, of course not.” Robin smiled and my belly did a little flip. He had a nice mouth, though I bet teeth like that cost a fortune. As he slowly removed his hand and sat back, my eyes furtively drifted over his taut chest—I couldn’t help it.

  Not bad.

  “How’d dinner go last night?” I grimaced before I could stop myself and he laughed. “That good, huh?”

  “It was … okay.”

  “You don’t get along with your parents?” His gaze was thoughtful. “I always got the impression you guys were close.”

  “Guess that’s the problem with impressions, they never tell the whole truth.”

  “Swear to God, the shit’s gonna hit the fan if I don’t get a triple shot espresso in the next thirty seconds.” I could have kissed Mae for her timely interruption. “Oh, hey Robin.”

  “Hey.”

  “You’d better go order then.” I grinned.

  “No need, I called ahead.”

  “Smart move.”

  “So, have you done it yet?”

  Both Robin and I stared at each other and then at her—my face felt like an egg could fry on it. Surely, she wasn’t referring to…

  “The fitness program, Riley. You know, the one you’re writing for me? What did you think I was talking about?” She sat down opposite me, her agitated fingers tapping the tabletop and her dark eyes pointedly glaring at the barista.

  Man, she’s on edge. Better not make any sudden movements.

  “You write fitness programs?”

  I smiled sheepishly at Robin. “It’s a hobby of mine. I like keeping fit and encouraging other people to as well.”

  “Ignore her, Robin. The real answer is she gets off on inflicting grievous bodily harm on unsuspecting innocents. She’s sadistic.”

  “I am not.”

  “Are too.”

  “So mature, Mae.”

  “So mature, Mae,” she mimicked. I laughed, that woman spent way too much time with her daughter.

  “You girls are crazy.”

  “Only when caffeine deprived. Oh, thank fuck.” Mae gratefully took her espresso from the waitress, blew on it to cool it down and took a deep drink.

  I waited until her loud moan of appreciation subsided before commenting, “And yes, your program’s finished.” She clapped her hands, delighted, completely contradicting her earlier comment about my malicious tendencies. “Wanna meet up tomorrow afternoon and go through it together?”

  “Sure. Annabelle will be with me, that okay with you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Love your work, Riley.”

  “Hey, that’s my line,” Robin interjected, grinning at me.

  Mae’s eyes shifted from Robin’s, to mine and back again, a secret smile playing on her lips.

  For once she remained silent.

  ****

  I was pleasantly surprised to see Dominic already at the beach when I pulled up later that afternoon. We hadn’t made concrete plans to meet again after being relegated to just friends, so I smiled as I walked down the steps toward him. He was the highlight of my day.

  No. Scrap that. He was the highlight of my week. And quite possibly month.

  Dominic’s black shorts hung so low I refused to look at the waistband in fear I’d misstep and break my neck. Only, today he paired them with…

  So fucking hot.

  A white wife-beater

  No words.

  Brain splat.

  Now, don’t ask me why, but for some reason a tank like that on a man like him did wild things to me. My common sense immediately shut down and the wailing sirens of an emergency evacuation alarm sounded in my head. Well, that along with a mass exodus of logic, reason, and intellect out my ear holes.

  Whoosh.

  Gone.

  Thankfully, my legs still worked… Just.

  As I approached, Dominic turned around. His eyes widened momentarily and I quickly did a mental check of my outfit, worried I’d picked something horrible. My bright running shorts contrasted well with my favorite cropped black sports top. It had a shallow V-neck at the front and criss-crossed straps at the back. I thought I looked okay before leaving the apartment but the dark expression on Dominic’s face suddenly made me second-guess myself.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.”

  We were both silent for a minute. I refused to breathe on account of how good he smelled and Dominic stood motionless, glaring out at the translucent ocean. It reflected the endless sky above which was sporadically interspersed with white clouds. The water looked tranquil and the waves gently lapped the shoreline while gulls waded through the shallows. On the whole, the beach appeared atmospherically calm. However, I had the distinct impression the man standing beside me was anything but.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “You sure?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Riley. I’m fine.”

  Right, then.

  He stared past me. “Ready?”

  “Uh, all right.”

  We both took off in the direction of the secluded cove behind the rocky outcrop. As we ran along the foreshore, the breeze swept straight hair into my eyes. I pushed it away, just like my thoughts of taciturn Dominic and whatever the heck had crawled up his ass and died. Sadly, it proved ridiculously difficult since I could literally feel the brooding waves of displeasure roll off his body and wash into me like an unstoppable tsunami. He’d never been like this before, granted, we hadn’t exactly known each other long, but it still seemed completely out of character.

  What the heck have I done?

  Half an hour later, we reached the end of the secluded cove. I walked toward the bronzed cliff face that rose high above me and leaned against it, stretching. If Dominic wanted to act like a jerk that was his problem, I wasn’t going to let it ruin my runner’s high.

  While resting my palm against the smooth rock and extending my Achilles, I heard a low whisper over my left shoulder. “Sorry about before.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” He paused. “Look at me, Riley.”

  Do I have to? Whatever happened to ignoring the elephant in the room? I’m totally cool with that.

  But sighing, I turned to face him.

  There was a sincerity in his gaze that made me crave the caged expression he wore earlier.

  Whoa.

  It wreaked havoc on my panties; the poor scrap of material was now a sodden abomination.

  “I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

  My chest tightened in response to his words so I focused on breathing instead. And emotionally distancing myself. Definitely that too.

  Girl, forget it. He’s not the man for you.

  Clearing my throat, I changed the subject. “How ’bout we do sit-ups today?”

  Dominic scowled, muttering something under his breath as he sat down. His personality replacement was seriously annoying. I mean, what the hell was his problem? He’d never hidden the filth that came out his mouth before and I liked him for that. It was honest. He was honest. In a world filled with people pretending to be someone they weren’t, it was a refreshing change, so what could have caused this drastic alteration?

  Completely fed up with his attitude, I put clenched hands o
n hips and towered over him. “Okay, where’s Dominic?” Not gonna lie, I loved seeing his breath catch. “What have you done with him?”

  “Don’t stand with your legs open, I can see up your shorts.”

  I squealed and gracelessly flopped to the ground like an inebriated flamingo. Dominic threw his head back and deep laughter reverberated off the solid rock behind me, echoing pleasurably through my limbs. Thrilling me. For some reason, I didn’t mind him laughing at my expense today, I just wanted to see him smile again.

  When the last of his chuckles faded I steeled myself and, ignoring the way my heart began to pound like the percussion section of an orchestra, asked quietly, “What’s up with you?”

  He looked down, systematically pouring grains of sand through long fingers, refusing to answer. Never had procrastination looked so damn sexy.

  “Well?”

  When Dominic’s eyes met mine, they flashed the brightest blue I’d ever seen. I bit my lip. “I didn’t think it’d be this hard. I can’t—” But he stopped.

  My stomach clenched and I hated myself for it. Just like I hated the way my voice wavered when I asked, “You can’t what?”

  He paused for a moment, shook his head and then faced me squarely. “Let’s workshop a scenario so I can show you.”

  I gaped at him. As good-looking as he was, the guy was making next to no sense.

  Must have left his sanity back in the car park.

  “Stand up.”

  But there was a determination in his voice I hadn’t heard before, so warily, I rose to my feet.

  Dominic stared at me for a long while, his gaze impenetrable. I just stood there, focused solely on trying to get enough oxygen—it was becoming a regular thing.

  After a loud exhale, he shook his head. “Now, pretend you’re me, right?”

  “Ah—”

  “And you haven’t blown your load for a few days.”

  I covered my face with my hands, hating the blush which appeared. “Oh, God.”

  Gently, he pulled my hands away and gave a devilish smile. My wrists tingled where he touched me. “You’re waiting for your friend to show up so you can go for a run. You really need this run.”