The California Club (29 page)

Calling upon one of the larger tapestry cushions to fill the gap that he's left I relive the kiss. I've fantasized about a sequel to the house-party kiss for so many years and now that it has happened I'm feeling something I wasn't expecting to feel. I can't quite define it. I set aside the lust and desire and dreaminess and realize that there are traces of anger. Indignation. Some part of me is actually annoyed – as far as he's concerned I'm getting it on with Joel so why now should he make a move? Is he simply trying to regain supremacy in my heart? Can his ego not take a rival – even though he's not offering me anything he still wants 100 per cent of my devotion. But of course he's not like that.

I try and squish my heart back into its feeling-proof container but it keeps pinging out again like a jack-in-the-box.

'I'm not done! You just got me all stirred up and now you want me to lie down and play sleeping lions? I can't do it!'

'You have to!' I tell it. There's nowhere for the love to go. He's walked away. ‘You have to get a grip. You have to hold it back. You have to pretend it didn't happen, just to stop yourself going insane.'

A brief swish of calm descends.

But then my heart has another tantrum. 'I don't want to feel calm!' it cries. 'That's not what I'm here for. I'm here to feel everything, to experience love. Please…'

All I can say is, 'I'm sorry. Not yet. Soon, I promise. (I hope.) Let me get you a drink.'

I'm just knocking back a medicinal brandy when the bride lunges at the bar.

'Vodka orange,' she requests. 'And make it a triple – I intend to start married life with the mother of all hangovers!'

As I do a quick double-take, she catches my eye and puts a lacy arm around me.

'What kinda night are you having?'

'Oh, great, yes – thank you so much for letting us come!'

She shrugs as she takes a swig. 'Well, I always like to see Joel happy.'

'Oh no, it's not like that!' I jump in, just in case even on her wedding day she's feeling proprietorial over her ex.

'I saw you with that other guy,’ she nods over to the fireplace.

'Elliot,' I mutter, with downcast eyes.

'But he's gone.'

'Yes,' I confirm.

She cocks her head to one side. 'Don't you find it tiring feeling heartbroken all the time?'

My jaw drops at her insight into my condition. 'Is there an alternative?' I ask.

'There is tonight.'

I raise an eyebrow.

'His name is Joel. Trust me, you won't regret it.'

'Regret what?' A male voice joins us.

It's Joel. It would be.

'I'm just recommending one of the activities available at the hotel.'

'At this time of night?' Joel looks bemused.

'Oh this one goes right through till the morning.' She winks before giving him a peck on the cheek and Proud-Mary-ing her way back to her husband.

'What was that all about?' Joel laughs. Before I can fudge an answer he bumps me playfully and says, 'So – was that a kiss I spied earlier?'

I attempt a triumphant twinkle: 'That was not a kiss. That was the kiss!'

'I knew if I gave you guys some room something would happen,' Joel grins then prompts, 'And yet?' He notices the smudge of sadness on my face.

Immediately I'm crestfallen. 'It's not enough.'

‘Tell me what you want,' he urges.

'Everything,' I quaver. 'Everything, or what's the point?'

Joel takes my hands and wraps them around his waist. 'A kiss is a good start.'

'Yes,' I concede, leaning against his shoulder, glad of the comfort. 'And, you know, if I was here for a few more days I'd feel pretty optimistic but I'm leaving for LA tomorrow and—'

'By the way, I'll drive you,' he cuts in.

I pull back and gawp at him. 'Don't be silly, that's 300 miles!'

'I've got a meeting at the Bel Air Hotel in the afternoon so I have to go anyway, it's really you who'd be doing me the favor, keeping me company on that tedious journey.'

'Are you sure?' I succumb to a half-smile. I'd be a fool to fight his offer.

'There is one catch – we'd have to leave about 7am.'

I don't need to look at my watch. Even if was 6am now I'd still go – he's taken a lonely trip and turned it into the chance to have another adventure. Suddenly I don't know what I'd do without him.

'Everything’s better with you,' I say, looking directly into his midnight eyes. The brandy has made me daring.

'I feel the same way,' he responds just as steadily.

We hold each other's gaze. It's just for a few seconds but long enough to cross over into new territory. I can feel my heart saying, What about him? He seems willing. I've got so much to give right now, please let me love someone.

'So now you're thinking, "Could we? Should we? Will we?"' Joel teases, leaning closer with each question.

I laugh, trying to cover my embarrassment and inner palpitations as I squeak, 'Could we?'

'We could indeed.'

'Should we?' My voice involuntarily takes on a more serious tone.

'It would definitely be fun.'

'Will we?' By now I am practically hoarse.

'That's up to you,' he says simply.

Suddenly it's right there, so close I could reach out and grab it – literally! He's talking sex, not a relationship, I know that: But what an offer. The best I've had in a long time.

I emit a tremulous sigh. 'No, I don't want to mess things up, I like things just the way they are between us.' I reach for the bar snacks but he stops me.

'Just like you're happy with the way things are between you and Elliot?'

I look confused.

'You're scared of messing up that friendship, aren't you?'

'Of course I am!' I puff. 'If I make some big love confession I could ruin everything. I'm not sure it's worth the risk.'

'It's the thing you want most in the world and you're not prepared to take a risk for it?' Joel confronts me.

'I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable,' I mumble, feeling feeble.

'It's only the truth,' Joel shrugs. 'All you would be doing is putting your truth out there. How he reacts is up to him.'

This man certainly has a way of making things sound so simple. I push a scattering of pistachio shells into a neat little circle. Maybe I am a bigger part of Elliot and I not getting together than I realize.

'I have moments when I think it's the only thing to do – to tell him how I feel -and other times I think I've just got to let go,' I explain.

'You know you're coming very close to now or never,' Joel warns. 'I reckon he can handle it, either way. The question is, can you?'

I take a moment to think and then squirm. 'I don't know.'

'Maybe we should give you some practice, then.'

'What do you mean?' I ask, feeling unsettled.

Joel takes my hand, which is absently pinching my pistachio shell circle into a straight line, and rumbles, 'Practice on me!'

I knew the man had killer sex appeal but I had yet to experience its full force directed at me. My stomach and loins flurry excitedly.

'I've only known you thirty or so hours but I'd say we're friends, wouldn't you?'

I nod vigorously, unable to speak.

'Well, I tell you what – we're going to cross that line. Together.'

Before I can voice any concerns he leans forward and kisses me. I take a moment to register the sensation. Not bad, but it's not Elliot.

He contemplates my expression and kisses me again. More tenderly, languorously. Hmmmm. Not Elliot.
Joel.

This time he seems pleased with my reaction.

Me too.

'Again,' I request, pulling him towards me…

‘No!'

I've been watching Joel sleep for the past five minutes and it freaks me out that this is how he chooses to greet the morning-after-the-night-before.

'No! No!'
he continues his emphatic remonstration.

His eyes are still tightly closed. Is he sleep-talking? Dreaming? Remembering?

'Joel?' I whisper, paranoia gnawing at me.

He groans and flips on to his side, announcing: 'NO, I don't regret it. NO, it's not going to be awkward between us. And NO, I'm not gonna try and wriggle out of driving you to Los Angeles.'

He opens one eye. 'Okay?'

'Okay!' I grin, totally busted.

He looks past me to the alarm clock: 5.45am. 'Five more minutes?' he entreats.

I snuggle back into the warmth of his furry chest the kind that looks like it's been blown-dry and feels like a nest made of softly spun silk.

Now Joel's said his piece I feel secure in the knowledge that he's not going to squirm away from me or pretend it didn't happen. Or pretend it was any thing more than it was. I like how he's honest with me and doesn't invent stuff that he thinks I want to hear. He's the same person he was at the wedding reception last night. Only with fewer clothes. And that's the way it should be.

I don't understand why so many men shut down directly after an intimate encounter. In theory it should bring you closer together but that's rarely been my experience. Is it panic at being confronted with real emotions that throws them through a loop? Embarrassment at having shown some vulnerability? Or is it that, in trying to second-guess what the girl is thinking, they mistakenly presume you always want more from them? They daren't be nice or civil in case they encourage you.

Generally the best thing to do is to get the hell out of Dodge. But not today. Today I'm going to enjoy the chest then I'm going to have breakfast with it and then take a six-hour drive with it. And it's going to be fine. More than fine. I know that because I haven't woken up feeling as if I lost something in the night. There are no regrets. Even when I think about Elliot. Yes, that fireside kiss was pure bliss, but I'm still a little miffed that he made his move on Joel's time, rather than the endless free years he could have chosen. It makes me question his motivation. All the same, I was concerned that being with Joel would feel like a betrayal. But it didn't. It felt like an entirely separate part of my life, and, if anything, I feel more balanced about Elliot today because I'm no longer quite so far behind in the amour stakes: Now I've had a bit of action I don't have to be resentful of my feelings for him, because this time they haven't stopped me having fun.

A big smile spreads across my face. Apparently it is possible to get it on with a friend and still be buddies the next day. I'd even go one step further: sometimes it doesn't ruin everything, it makes it better!

One of Joel's hands slips over the side of the bed and reappears with a bottle of Evian in its grasp.

'Slurp of Naïve, darling?'

I eagerly rehydrate then ask, 'Are you the mythical perfect boyfriend?'

'As a matter of fact I'm the world's worst boyfriend,' he states, frankly. 'But I do a nice line in do-gooder sex.'

'You should rent yourself out.'

'I've thought about it, but if I did it on a regular basis all my clients would fall in love with me and then where would I be?'

'Loved?' I suggest.

For a moment he looks thrown. And a little bit lost. I try to un-trigger the emotion by joking, 'I have the same problem. Once a man has been with me, no other woman can compare. I mean, you're utterly smitten now, aren't you?'

'Besotted. Being with you is like a drug. You're like those cane toads they lick in South America to trip on.'

'I'm like a toad?!' I splutter.

He responds to my outrage by licking me from shoulder to ear in one slurp.

'Eurghhh! Get off!' I shudder, writhing beneath him. He continues the licking so I start tickling him. Bad idea – now he's licking and tickling me. I can't bear it and squeal in a state of squirmy delirium.

‘Wait!' I say, holding him away from me for a second. 'Was that the door?'

'Dunno!' He grabs me again, pulling me on top of him.

'I'd better check,' I say, wriggling out of his grasp. I pull the sheet off the bed to swathe it around myself but he pulls it back. As we indulge in a farcical tug-of-war there's another knock at the door.

'Joel!' I despair. He still won't relinquish the sheet so instead I have to make do with two of the extra-large pillows – one in front, one behind – so I now look like a cuddly version of a sandwich-board street walker.

'Nice look!' Joel calls after me.

When I get to the door, I have to press the back pillow against the wall in order to free up a hand to open the latch.

'Oh! Sorry!' Elliot looks absolutely mortified at the sight of me – the muss of my hair and flush of my cheeks leaving him in no doubt that naked frolicking has been prematurely curtailed. 'Bad time?'

'Actually your timing is perfect,' I tell him. 'You've rescued me from death by tickling – come in.'

'No, no, I'm fine. I was up early and I just wondered if you fancied getting some breakfast before you left.'

'Of course! Just give us half an hour.'

'Oh.' By the look on his face he wasn't planning on hearing the 'us' word, but he quickly composes himself. 'Okay. Well, no rush. You just …' He waves an arm back towards the bedroom.

I close the door and take a moment to assess what I'm feeling. Half of me wants to run after him and say, 'It's not what you think! Well, actually it is but given the choice I would have rather have been you but you didn't offer and Joel did …' And the other half is saying, 'Now you get to see how I feel every time I see you with another woman.'

‘Dear god, could this be any more orgasmic?' I ask, sinking my teeth into an apple crepe oozing raspberry purée.

'Well …' Joel gives me a naughty look.

Elliot goes cross-eyed staring into the bottom of his coffee cup.

Bless him, I don't suppose he's ever witnessed Lara the Sex Object before. I feel a little uneasy at the level of schmaltz Joel is peddling but I know his excessive flirtation is partly just a last desperate bid to prompt a jealous outburst from Elliot. I'm hoping for something along the lines of 'Step away from the damsel! She can never be yours for she loves only me! This very morning I awoke to find my love for her soars high above the mariposa trees!'