Page 64 of Play Me

“Did you ever!” He grins and winks at me, and my legs instantly feel a little wobbly.

“Come on, I know of a great place you can make it up to me,” I tell him, to distract me from thoughts that would have me forgetting about breakfast and dinner altogether.

“Oh no, I’m going to need some sustenance,” he groans.

“Not that, you perv! Food!” I squawk at him and he laughs until a camera bag thwacks him on the head.

***

“It’s definitely alien.” Sebastian says after a few minutes of rare quiet.

“It’s not alien.”

“Then where did it come from?”

“The sky.”

“Yeah, an alien dropped it.” He insists.

“An alien. Picked up Uluru...and then accidentally dropped it.” I have to repeat it just to make sure I’ve heard him correctly.

“Sure, a giant alien. With slippery hands.”

I have to put my glass down, to keep from spilling it as I hold my stomach with my other hand as I bend over in laughter.

“What? Do YOU have a better explanation?” He asks, looking hurt.

“There are thousands of years of better explanations than that.”

“Well, I guess we’ll never know.”

“I think we know it’s not a giant alien with crappy finger grip that created Uluru.”

“It’s not my fault you have so little faith.” He sniffs, and turns back to observing the stunning horizon.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

We’re sitting on our balcony looking out as the sun sets over the giant red rock, that under the angle of light looks like it’s sprouted a halo, illuminating it against the darkening sky.

We can hear the sound of our neighbors enjoying their own meal and experiencing the unique experience of the sun setting over Uluru.

I shove an olive-oil-soaked piece of break into my mouth; part of the array of food we’d picked up at the store, our makeshift gourmet dinner picnic.

“Hmmm, so good.” I say and dip another piece and hold it out to Sebastian.

He opens his mouth and as I push the bread into his mouth, he clamps his lips down, trapping my fingers and then slowly licks the oil dripping off them.

“Hmm, you’re right, delicious,” he winks at me. My nipples harden instantly and I wonder if there’ll ever be a time my body’s not going to react to him from the smallest things.

He watches me eat for a moment, and I let him, somehow feeling so comfortable in his presence that I don’t really care that he sees me spitting out olive pits and sucking on lamb chop bones.

“When’s the first time you came here?” He asks, picking up his fork and stabbing a cherry tomato dancing around his plate.

“It’s a long story.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be and you’ve sexed me out for a while, so, spill.” He presses, already used to my evasive tactics.

I take a sip of wine and sit back, looking out at the scenery. “When I was ten, my grandmother died after a pretty long illness. After the funeral, we were in the car, and suddenly, my Dad spins the car around and he says, ‘where do you want to go? Anywhere in the world’.”