Page 53 of Wanting Mr Black
“I want you to be happy, Luce; everyone deserves that. Just … be careful.”
“I will, I will,” she blusters, leaving me with little confidence.
I know her, and I can tell she likes Big Steve more than she’s admitting.
“And I want you to be happy too.” She smiles and turns to me. “What Art did was bad, but he’s done his time for it, and what happened to your dad is in your past. If you let those things affect your future, you’ll never move forward. And you should. Together. You love him, and he’s in love with you, whether he’s told you or not. You’re happier with him than I’ve ever seen you.”
My throat tightens with emotion, and I take a sip of water to stop myself from crying. I love him more than I’ve loved anyone. There, I’ve finally admitted it to myself. I’m totally in love with him and utterly scared that my heart won’t recover.
“I don’t want to finish things with him,” I admit. “But I need some space and time to get my head straight before we have the discussion we need to have. Coming out here with you was the right thing to do. If I’d stayed at home, he would have tracked me down again and bulldozed his way through, like he always does, distracting me and getting his own way.”
She frowns. “Bulldozed?”
“He has his ways of distracting me.”
A sly smile creeps across her face. “I bet he does. Have you told him about Theo?”
My eyes close at the mention of his name. No one knows the worst things Theo did. Not even Lucy.
“Bits.”
“Well, maybe you should. You’re asking him to be honest with you; it’s only right that you do the same.”
Why does she have to be so right all the bloody time?
“I know, and I will.”
The beat of a thumping dance tune starts up in the distance, and I lazily open one eye. “What’s that racket?”
Lucy shoots up like’s she’s been shot and drains her cosmopolitan in one mouthful, jumping to her feet. “That’s the pool party starting over in the other pool. Come on.”
I glance about at the other guests lounging on sunbeds in peace and quiet and feel envious. “Can’t we stay here?”
“No, come on,” she insists. “Cocktails, music, hot men.” She catches the doubtful look I throw her way. “Okay, you just look at the hot men then. More for me!”
I’ve never been to a pool party in my life, and I’m not sure I’m in the right frame of mind to go to one now. “Luce …” I begin, but she grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, clearly in no mood for resistance.
“Come on. I’m determined for you to drink something more than bloody water today. It’ll be fun.”
Twenty-Seven
Lucy’s words ring in my ears as we cross the well-tended gardens in the sultry Spanish sunshine to the noisiest of the hotel’s four swimming pools.
The pool area is filled with semi-naked bodies frolicking and shrieking against a backdrop of a dance tune blaring out from DJ decks set up on the far side of the pool. The men are all muscly and sporting brightly coloured swim shorts as they chat up women or splash about in the pool. The women are split into two groups; they’re either working very hard to act demure – perched on the side of the pool, trying not to get wet – or they’redancing to try and attract male attention, wearing very revealing swimwear. Neither activity appeals to me.
Lucy shoves a glass of champagne in my hand before I can say no. “Have a drink and enjoy yourself.”
I take a swig of the fizzy liquid and watch as her eyes light up at the sound of her phone beeping yet again.
“Ooh, it’s Steve.” She beams, and then I watch as her face falls. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
Her eyes widen with shock and lift to mine. “He says he likes my bikini.”
I frown as the meaning behind the words sinks in. “How can he possibly know what you’re wearing?”
She spins round, her eyes scanning the pool area. “Because he’s here.”