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I spied a bottle of Scotch behind the punch bowl and swiped it and a plastic cup and headed in the opposite direction to Ainslee’s known location, and the homestead.
“Trouble in paradise, lover boy?” Pete said, stopping in front of me.
“What?” I spat, twisting off the cap and pouring until the cup was half-full.
Pete sipped his beer, eyeing me carefully. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” I swallowed a large mouthful and coughed.
“Ha. Didn’t look like nothing when you answered the door wearing a cushion over your dick and a look of regret on your face.”
I groaned and drank some more. The burn of the whisky was good, even if it was a blend rather than a single malt.
“Although it sounded like everything was better before we knocked.” Pete chuckled and took another swig of his beer.
“You heard us?”
“Pretty sure Stanmore heard you two going at it.”
I groaned again and downed the last of the whisky, coughing again.
“Rosie’s back. I mean, she’s here. She was crying.” I wiped my mouth. “Not that I care.”
Pete eyed me again. “Well, you’re friends. Thought you’d care if she was upset.”
Why was I talking about Rosie?I scrubbed my face and slumped onto a low boulder, watching the party in the shed.
“I’m not in love with Ainslee. At all. I made a mistake. We’re not even dating. I haven’t even talked to or seen her in months. And then suddenly she’s on my doorstep offering sex, and then I find out she’s been planning this party with my mother for the last two weeks.”
“Oh.” Pete swallowed a large mouthful of beer. “Shit.”
“Yes, that’s one word to describe this mess.” I caught the look on Pete’s face. “What is it?”
“You should probably know then that Ainslee has been talking about you at uni as if the two of you are going out. Like an official, solid couple.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Sorry, mate. I’d just assumed it was true because you two had been together. If I’d known you weren’t together … well, I don’t know what I could’ve done, but I would’ve let you know.”
I stood up and paced in front of the rock. “She’s broken up with her fiancé, too.”
“Ainslee has a fiancé as well?” Pete spluttered.
“No. Rosie. It ended with her fiancé … badly, I think. I think that’s why she’s crying.” I stopped pacing and stared at the homestead.
“Always thought Rosie was a stunner,” Pete mused. “And she’s single, hey? Maybe I’ll say hello tonight and try my luck.”
Pete’s jumper was in my fist in a second, and my face in his, breathing hard. “Don’t you dare try anything with her.”
“I see how it is,” Pete whispered, wide-eyed.
I let go of Pete like he was made of lava. “What do you mean ‘you see it how it is’?”
He patted his jumper down and then pointed his beer bottle in my direction. “You have a thing for Rosie.”
“No,” I said automatically, followed by a hollow laugh. “Not at all. She was upset and has just ended her engagement. She’s … she’s …”
What was she, exactly? An ex? We’d lasted barely two weeks in secret, and even then, we hadn’t made a commitment of what we’d been.
