Losing Faith (Surfers Way) (11 page)

His broad shoulders rise as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. He turns to me, his eyes glistening.

“You think Travis killed her?”

“I don’t know. He was always hooning up Surfers Way and was cautioned about doing burnouts the week before graduation. After all the people I spoke to after the funeral, no one could recall seeing him at the after party. He went off-grid for a couple of days. He reckoned he hooked up with someone, but whether coincidence or not his car was conveniently stolen a week after and found burnt-out in an industrial area in Newcastle.”

“I didn’t know any of this.”

“You weren’t here,” I blurt out, regretting it the moment the words leave my lips.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and then he sits back on the edge of my desk as if I’ve wounded him.

“I’m sorry. That was harsh,” I apologise.

“It’s fine. I should’ve been.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes briefly as if he’s waging a war with himself. “What did the police say?” he finally says.

“As much as I pushed it, Wilson said there was no evidence to suggest he was responsible. Travis swore until he was blue in the face that he didn’t do it, that he wasn’t in the area. Some girl in Newcastle was his alibi.”

I know Travis was responsible for egging my house all those times afterwards. He was a pain in the arse at school, but even more so after he found out I’d been talking to the cops. Still, even to this day, he can’t resist throwing rude comments at me.

“The guy’s such a pussy. Put under that much pressure, he would’ve cracked for sure if he did it.” Quade takes another scan of the boards and then lifts a book from the top of my study aids. “What’s with all the legal books?”

“So, um, I’ve been studying for a Diploma in Legal Studies.”
And I’m about to finish it.

“You mean you haven’t just been working at the Palace this whole time?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, Lace. So why Legal Studies?”

“I needed to understand what was going on, so I could ... I don’t know, fix it? The police were getting nowhere. They weren’t giving the case the priority it deserved—at least, that was what it looked like to me. I just wanted to help in any way I could, which sometimes got me into a bit of trouble.”

“And you like it? I mean, I know you struggled with what to do after school. I guess I didn’t see you going for something like that.”

“I like it way more than I thought I ever would. Sometimes it makes me sad when I think of what compelled me to go in this direction. Law was Faith’s thing, as you know. I could never see the attraction, but in a weird way, it’s kind of like I’m doing it for her because she never got the chance. I know it’s not a full-blown law degree, but it’s all I could get in to with my grades.”

It took losing Faith to find myself.

He reaches out his hand to me, a gentle smile toying at the corner of his mouth. I place my hand in his and he sets his feet apart, pulling me to stand between his open legs.

“I’m so proud of you, Lacey Marone, and you know that Faith would be proud of you too.”

He pulls me into his arms, rests his chin on the top of my head, and holds me tight for the longest time. I hold back the tears, instead focusing on breathing in and out, and trying to read Quade’s body language. He’s not giving anything up.

After a moment, he stands up and turns us around, keeping one arm curled around my shoulders so we both face my patchwork of investigation. Quade turns around, checking out the room. Something appears to catch his eye. He walks towards my dusty, cluttered bookcase near the entry door.

When he reaches for the clear plastic box on the top shelf, I gasp out loud.

“Quade,” I say in that begging tone again.

Fire prickles at my cheeks. If he didn’t think I was crazy for all the other stuff, he’ll definitely think I’m cray-cray for this.

“You kept the corsage?” he says, his eyebrows moving closer to his hairline.

He opens the box, removing from it a very sad-looking bunch of faded flowers. Discoloured, lifeless, it represents the promise from that night. That was why I kept it. I held onto that bloody thing night after night when he left.
So many tears.

“I know it’s stupid, but I couldn’t ever bring myself to throw it away.”

He places it back in the box and onto the shelf.

“Faith always had a thing about keeping stuff that Byron gave her. I know you gave one to Mack too, but it was the first thing you’d actually given me that gave me hope for something more.”

“Oh, Lace,” he soothes with that husky voice of his. He takes my hand and we sit on the edge of my bed. I watch his conflicted gaze as he stares at me and then at our joined hands in his lap.

He hangs his head, focusing on his fingers as he smooths them over the back of my hand in a circular motion. “I fucked up when it came to you and me. It’s one of my biggest regrets. I should never have turned my back on you.”

Hearing the words are bittersweet. You think you want to listen to them, but when you do, you wish you hadn’t.

“I know you did what you thought you had to do. I can understand why you left.”

“I knew there was a risk coming back here that you wouldn’t even speak to me. I thought you’d hate me after my disappearing act.”

“I could never hate you.”
Not when I’ve loved you all these years.

“When I walked into the Palace that day, I expected a slap in the face. I expected you to rip me to pieces, but you didn’t.”

After all this time, I thought I’d gotten over him. I truly did. Having him back though, I realise how delusional I was to think that.

I run the backs of my fingers down his stubbly cheek, and he leans into my touch. “Want me to slap you now? I was kind of in shock then.”

“Would it make you feel any better?”

I shrug. “Maybe. Can I slap you on the arse, though? I don’t think I could bring myself to hit that handsome face.”

“Let’s be serious for a minute, and then you can get to touching my arse.”

“Okay. Let’s be serious, then.”

“How can you forgive me so easily? I was an idiot.”

I lie back on the bed and focus on the ceiling. The dramatic rise and fall of my chest holds my attention as I think of what to say. For months after he left I kept playing out in my head what I’d say to him when he came back, but as time went on I had other things to focus on. I had to move on without him, broken heart and all.

Quade lies on his side next to me, using his elbow to prop himself up. He sweeps his free hand over my stomach and curls it around my waist.

“Life is short. I think we both know that all too well. Besides. I’ve always had a soft spot for you.” With my index finger, I pull at the neck of his T-shirt, and twist my frame to face his.

“Always?” he questions, with a mighty smile.

I roll my eyes. “Since Kindy, Quade. So yeah, that’s pretty much always.”

“Ever since I’ve come back, every time I see you I get this feeling. I feel like with you I’m home. In the longest time I haven’t felt like I belong. Something’s been missing.
You’ve
been missing.”

Home. I’m home to him. Wow. I swear my heart just doubled in size. What on earth am I supposed to say to that? You feel like home too? “Quade, I—”

“I want a chance with you, Lace,” he cuts me off, and then distracts me by making small circles on my rib cage.

“You do?”

He runs his knuckles along my jaw. “Not just fooling around, either, although, I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to picking up from when we were rudely interrupted.” He trails his fingers across my collarbone, toying with my bra strap.

I move my hand to his, stopping him from sliding it off my shoulder. This time when his hands are on me, my brain is in more control than the needier parts of my body. Is he going to pack up and leave again when it all gets too hard? If I’m going to give us a shot, re-open my heart to him, re-open old wounds, I need to know.

“Quade …” I say on an exhale.

“I wanna give
us
a chance.”

“You broke my heart. I know I was just a stupid eighteen-year-old, but I cried a lot of tears over you.”

“I’m so sorry, Lace. A thousand times I wanted to call, but I couldn’t. I was in a dark place after I left and I shut a lot of people out. My parents weren’t the only ones who thought I was to blame. I believed it was my fault. The twenty minutes I spent talking to you at the party, imagining the night ahead … I should have been looking for Faith. But I didn’t because I was thinking of myself. If I had’ve done what my parents had entrusted me to do … we never would have lost her.”

My heart plummets in my chest.
Oh God
. He’s blamed himself this whole time? “Quade, it wasn’t your fault. You have to know that.”

“I know that now. It took me a long time to realise it, but for a while there I truly believed it. So did my parents.”

“You should have called me. We could have been there for each other.”
I needed you
.

“I know I should have. Again, I’m a huge arse and I just hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“Say I forgive you, say we get serious. If things don’t work out with your parents, are you going to pack up and leave again? And your ex-girlfriend—are you one hundred per cent done with her? Because from what I heard, your mother was saying just a few weeks back that marriage and babies would be in the cards.”

“I’ll give this all I’ve got, Lacey Marone. As for my ex, my mother is delusional. Nari and I have been over for a while now. My mum’s having trouble accepting that. Besides, I only have eyes for the Pepperoni Princess of Runaway.” His eyes zero in on my mouth. Mine lock onto his. He licks his lips.

“You’ve got some making up to do,” I inform him.

Quade pulls me onto his chest and runs his nose against mine. He sweeps his mouth over to my ear. His hot breath sends delicious ripples over my skin as I straddle his waist, our upper bodies heaving against each other.

“I can get started right now,” he whispers, dotting a kiss below my ear before sucking on my earlobe.

A moan escapes me as his mouth moves down my neck and over to my shoulder. I move back and position my hands on either side of his face, staring right into those crystal blues. “You should. It’s been a long time coming.”

His hands fist my hair and he slams his mouth to mine, somehow flipping me onto my back in the process, driving his hips between my legs. Our kisses grow more demanding. Our tongues dance feverishly as our bodies writhe together with need.

Each movement of his hips and the hardness between my legs has me drawing closer to losing control.
We haven’t even got our clothes off.

“Oh … oh my God,” I groan out, gripping the bottom of his shirt and raising it up his back, savouring the feeling of his toned muscles against my fingertips.

Quade rips off his shirt, tossing it away. Strong hands peel my top off and unclip my bra, freeing my boobs. Teeth graze my nipple before his mouth draws one in, his tongue swirling about, hardening it before he gives the other boob the same treatment.

I reach for the button on my shorts and then Quade’s hands are there, sliding down the zip and gliding my shorts off, leaving me in just a G.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles, watching me like a hungry hawk as he trails his finger over the dampened material of my underwear. I lift my hips into his touch, which causes Quade to growl.

The bed shifts. Kisses land on my stomach. Teeth nip as they move lower, and hands tug behind my knees, bringing my body closer to the edge.

I move to sit up, but Quade flattens one hand in the middle of my chest and presses me back into the mattress. He kneels beside the bed, opening my legs to him. He runs his mouth along the soft skin of my inner thigh until I squirm with want.

This anticipation … I’m dying. Quade is trying to kill me.

“Time to finish what I started on the beach,” he says in a husky voice.

He tugs the fabric aside. His hot tongue laps at my sensitive flesh, toying with my clit. In one long stroke of his flattened tongue, I jerk my hips off the mattress. I swear I’m going to lose my mind.

“Please,” I beg.
Finish it.
My fingers tangle into his hair and I hold on to his soft locks as if I’m drowning and he’s my life-preserver.

I can’t get enough of how good this feels. I’ve come to learn to take care of my own needs, but never ever has it felt this incredible.

He blows hot air onto my clit and then works the swollen nub with his tongue as his finger probe inside me. My thighs shake. My heart thrashes in my chest. With each movement my core tightens to the point of no return. I cry out, arching my back as an explosion of pleasure rips through my body. I pulse around his fingers which move slower, the sensations still no less intense. Quade sucks on my clit and then blows on it, assaulting my senses.
Now that was an O
.

“Gah,” I grunt out. I gasp for breath and glance down my stomach to find Quade staring back up at me.