‘Yeah, I remember.’
‘And I’ve told everyone no gifts.’
I rub my forehead. ‘It’s a birthday. They’ll bring one anyway.’
‘But I told them not to.’
‘Well, no one wants to be the arsehole who shows up empty-handed.’ I look back at Kylie and find her watching me. ‘I gotta go.’
‘Of course. Enjoy your… lie-in.’ She hangs up before I can respond.
I put the phone down and look around for my boxers. Thankfully they’re within reach. I really don’t want to have this conversation naked.
‘Sorry about that,’ I say as I pull my boxers up beneath the sheet. ‘If you get dressed, I’ll give you a lift wherever you need to go.’
The cute smile on her face vanishes, replaced with embarrassment. ‘Wow.’ She takes the sheet with her as she climbs off the bed. ‘I see.’
This isn’t going to go well. ‘Listen, Kylie—’
‘It’s Carly.’
So close. I go to fetch a clean T-shirt and jeans from the cupboard. As I’m dressing, I notice my knuckles are red and swollen. I turn to Carly. ‘What the hell happened last night?’
‘You don’t remember getting into a fight?’ She tugs her singlet down. ‘Troy Baroud knocked Heath’s drink out of his hand, so you knocked out one of his teeth.’
Heath is Pete and Sue’s youngest son, and Troy Baroud is a local twat. And now that she mentions it, I do recall Troy falling backwards over a barstool. ‘Ah.’
‘The bartender threw you out. I babysat you while Heath was convincing the manager not to call the cops.’
It seems she babysat me a little too well. ‘Do you live locally?’
She pulls her jeans up with angry jerks. ‘Are you seriously asking me that? I’m at that pub every Friday night, and we’ve had multiple conversations about where I’m from.’
‘Well, I’m not great with faces.’
‘Or names,’ she mutters.
I grab my keys off the table by the door and wait for her to put on her shoes. She casts a death stare in my direction when I start jiggling the keys.
‘Heath told me you were a nice guy,’ she says as she heads for the door. ‘Guess he lied.’
Heath would have thought he was doing me a favour saying that. I sigh. ‘I’m not trying to be a dick here. I just have work today.’
She yanks the door open. ‘Go work, then. Heath can give me a ride home.’ Looking over her shoulder, she adds, ‘He knows where I live because he pays attention when I talk.’
The door slams shut.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next. Maybe follow her out, apologise, and insist on driving her home. But I don’t have it in me. It’s easier to let her hate me. Then if I’m ever allowed back into the pub, she won’t waste her time.
My gaze falls to the leather band on my wrist, and guilt hits. It shouldn’t, but it does. I suspect last night’s drunken antics were less to do with Troy being a dick and more to do with the news I got about Annie yesterday. Sammy ran into Tamsin on the weekend. She told him Annie got baptised. That snippet of information landed like a punch to the stomach.
Moving to Brisbane was a fool’s mission, and now it’s time to let go.
I guess Carly was my first attempt at doing that, and Troy… Who am I kidding? I probably would have punched him in the face anyway.
When I step out of the bungalow, I come face to face with Pete. He’s got that disappointed father look going on. I’m about to cop a speech of some kind. I’m really regretting the booze right now. The blinding sun has my head spinning and stomach turning.
‘Carly left in a hurry,’ he says, glancing in the direction of the car now pulling away from the house. ‘Why’s Heath driving her home?’