An Endless Summer(91)

My heart beat faster as he dragged the moment out. He finally ended the torture and exposed his brilliant line of white teeth with a wink.

“I’ll let you know.”





Chapter Forty-Three



Mercifully only Chris and Max were around when Sean dropped me off. But still, I didn’t want them seeing me, either, especially not Chris.

“Just pull in around the back,” I said, my eyes darting across the car park.

Sean grinned from ear to ear as he watched me fidget nervously in my seat.

“You don’t have to enjoy this so much.” I glowered at him.

“What was that? Drop you off out the front?”

“Don’t you dare!”

It was my only hope that no one was loitering in the beer garden or still finishing up some tasks left over from the working bee. I had devised a clear-cut, meticulous plan for Sean to drop me off by the back entrance so I could cut through the beer garden and scarper through the back entrance and up the back staircase and be fully dressed again with no one the wiser. I prayed the door had been left unlocked. God, please let it be open.

Sean turned the ute to the right to sweep around the back and he slowly pulled to a stop under a big towering gum that shielded us from the blistering sun.

He killed the engine but kept his arm casually slung over the wheel, his eyes trailing over my attire with an air of amusement.

I folded my arms and tilted my head, combatting his amusement with a dirty look.

He snickered and shook his head. “It always seems that every time I bring you home you’re missing some article of clothing. Shoes. Shorts. Shirt. Seems to be a pattern with you.”

“Only around you it is,” I said.

“I can’t help it if you can’t keep your clothes on around me,” he teased.

“Oh, ha ha!” I said sarcastically. “So Tammy Maskala went home unscathed, then?”

Sean’s eyes narrowed, all humour disappearing from his face. “What’s with all the Tammy questions?”

“Nothing; just seemed like you two hit it off last night.” I looked back out of the window, suddenly finding the roof line fascinating.

“Well, we played pool,” he said.

“Really badly,” I threw in.

“Really badly.” He nodded. “And then I went home. I had to give a bloke a quote this morning and fix up some roof flashing that moved in that storm we had a few weeks ago … but why am I explaining all this to you?” he said in frustration.

An awkward silence filled the cabin. I could see in my peripheral vision Sean staring at me as I looked down into my lap. Why was I asking these questions? Why did I always shoot him a sarcastic jab about all the girls he would be rendezvousing with, or who he chose to invite into his house? It wasn’t exactly like he cared if Stan had walked me to my bedroom or anything – he hadn’t asked, so he obviously didn’t care.

I breathed in a sigh of relief, grateful that Tammy hadn’t talked me into anything as ridiculous as telling Sean how I felt. Not that I knew exactly how I felt. I knew I didn’t like Sean looking or speaking to Tammy, and anytime he got close to her I could feel my blood boiling under the surface. Tammy had obviously suspected something in the five minutes she had been on the scene, and Adam made no secret in taunting me any chance he had. Chris and Mum certainly didn’t approve of us hanging out.

“Why do you care what I do, Amy?” Sean asked seriously. It was so direct, so unexpected. He wasn’t playing games, he was calling my bluff.

My face flamed and I wished the ground would open up so I didn’t have to answer him. Maybe I really was that spoilt, immature little girl who used to loiter on the stairs and eavesdrop on everyone’s private business. Maybe I was just a busybody by nature and that’s why I had to know.

But I knew that was a lie. Above all, I did want to know about Sean and what he was doing and who he was with. I held my breath every night hearing the front door of the bar open and secretly hoped he would walk in. In the beginning he had annoyed me, infuriated me to the point where I wanted nothing more than to get away from him. But I never really did. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was desperately addicted to Sean Murphy and I didn’t know how to process that revelation.

The one thing I would do for myself now to stop from feeling so exposed was to lie through the skin of my teeth.

I met his eyes, unblinking. I replied in all seriousness, “I don’t care what you do.” Of all the lies I had been telling of late, that was the biggest one of all.

I thought he might have said, “Good!” Or at least nodded his head, or sagged in relief at my admission, but his stone-like expression never changed; he didn’t even so much as blink as he looked at me.