Plight(13)

As if Mum shared the same psychic ability she thought I possessed, my phone rang her assigned ringtone: "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals.

I glared at the phone and groaned. "Ugh! WHY?"

Before I could bury it under my arse cheek, Chris scooped it up from the bench.

"Noooo! Don't answer-"

"Hi, Mrs Cunningham," he bellowed with a wink. You son of a bitch!

Chris smiled, proud of himself, but all I could do was drop my head to the bench, lift my hand, and flip him the bird.

He slapped it away and kept sweet-talking my mum. "Why did I answer your daughter's phone? Because her hands are busy, that's why. She's currently practising sign language."

I flipped him some more 'sign language', one I liked to call a double FU.

"I'll tell you what, Mrs Cunningham. How about I put you on speakerphone? That way you can speak to Dani while she busily practises." He poked at my phone screen like the cocky shithead he was and placed it back down on the benchtop.

"OH, THANK YOU, CHRISTOPHER. IS IT WORKING?"

"Yes, Mum, it's working. You don't need to shout. Just talk normally," I explained.

"Oh, hello, dear. So, you're learning sign language as well as getting engaged? Anything else you've failed to tell me?"

I held my fingers to my head in the shape of a gun and pretended to pull the trigger. "No, Mum."

"That's all you've got to say?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Danielle Uma Cunningham." Her tone was low. Disapproving.

Chris mouthed my middle name with a dirty look on his face then burst into silent hysterics, clutching his abdomen.

I glared at him.

"DANIELLE?"

"Yes, what?" I asked, snapping my attention back to Mum.

"Are you going to explain to me how it is that you're engaged to a man I didn't even know you were dating? Look, don't get me wrong; I think it's wonderful news. I'm just a little shocked, that's all." 

Chris silent-laughed even harder and proceeded to place the back of his hand to his mouth, opening and closing his fingers like a duckbill. What the fuck is he on?

I glared some more and mouthed, 'what?'

He pointed to me and kept quacking his hand.

"Um  …  Mum, can I call you back?"

"No! Danielle, I want answers. I'm your mum. I worry about you."

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. I promise. It's complicated."

"Not good enough, young lady."

"Listen, I can't talk right now. I'll call you back, okay?"

Before she could argue any further, I ended the call and then tossed a nearby tea towel at Chris. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Your initials spell DUC."

He laughed and quacked, and then quacked some more.

"Oh my God. Really?" I drawled, sarcastically.

"Yeah. D. U. C. Duc."

Sliding off the barstool I was sitting on, I climbed down from the breakfast bar and headed toward my room.

"Where are you going?"

"Bath."

"Come on, Dani. I'm sorry. I was just mucking around. What about your Milo?"

"I don't want it."

"Sure you do."

I shrugged. "I'm exhausted, and I want my bubbles."

"And your rubber ducky?"

Chris choked on his own amusement, so I raised my hand and flipped him one last bird before exiting the room.





Slowly lowering myself into the perfectly heated, scalding hot water of my bath, I ooh'd and aah'd as my body adjusted to the delicious assault.

"Yesss  …  burn, baby, burn," I cooed, smiling as the hot water and amber glow from my candle flame soothed me. There was nothing quite like soaking in a hot, luxurious bath at the end of a shithouse day.

I closed my eyes and savoured the moment until my phone buzzed not too far from my head. Startled, I reached for it to find a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: I fucked up today. Sorry.





Elliot. It had to be.

Biting my thumbnail, I shook the excess water from my fingers and typed a response.

Danielle: Yeah, you did. What was with that?





He didn't respond right away, so I sunk lower into the water and closed my eyes, seeing only his. Their bright contrast to his jet-black hair really was striking. Captivating, even. My God, he's so damn good looking now.

Elliot's looks had never been lost on me. I'd always found them unique, mysterious, and intriguing. But now, with his broad shoulders, slim frame, and perfectly chiselled face, the sight of him - even behind my closed eyes - was playing havoc with my body.

I squirmed, swishing the bath water over the side of the tub. It had been ages since a man had had that effect on me. The last guy to do so was my then best friend turned fuck buddy turned boyfriend, Alistair. He'd been one of the Bomber's fitness coaches until soon after our split, which was when he traded to another team. He'd assured me that it had nothing to do with our breakup, but I hadn't believed him.