Unsuitable

“What, go on say it?”

“Just—” Enough drama for one night. Reece let it go. He’d expected Polly to dodge.

“Smarter than I am? She sure is. More intelligent, and a pack more fun than anyone I’ve dated for a long while.”

They looked at each other, both of them silhouettes in the dark.

“You’re not going to screw her over then, because she’s Audrey’s friend and—”

“I’m going to try not to screw her over. I prefer her under me when I do the screwing, but you know, I don’t have a good track record at not screwing up with chicks, so I’m not making anyone any promises.”

Polly was being genuine. “I like it.”

“Doesn’t sound like you do.”

“It’s unexpected. I was worried.”

“Yeah, that it was some kind of joke. Because she’s not my usual pole dancer.” Reece let that go too and Polly went on. “I didn’t come in here to talk about me.” He pointed in the direction of the bed. “What’s with you and the goon squad?”

“I’d only had a two beers. They were on something. Wouldn’t stay the fuck down.”

“You hurting?”

Reece grinned. Polly had come in to do what he’d always done after a fight—to check on him. “I’m a little sore. It’ll be worse tomorrow. Nothing broken.”

“Hands?”

“Fine.”

“Head?”

This time, this question was different. It was about his mental state, not whether he might have concussion. “She looked at me like she didn’t know me, Pol.”

“Should’ve taken a fall.”

Reece nodded. He’d made it look too easy. It was easy when you had the training, the experience he’d had, when you were sober and your opponents were half out of their tiny minds. When you were doing it to protect the woman you loved. If he’d taken a fall she might not have seen him as so much of a machine. She’d looked at him as if she didn’t know him, as if he’d beaten her affection for him to a pulp and juiced it all over scorched earth.

“I don’t want to be a dickhead all my life you know. I really like Les. Exactly as she is. But I don’t know what I’m doing in this deep, with someone so different, so if you don’t work it out with Audrey you know I’ve got zip chance of keeping Les.”

Reece pulled his knees up, curled his back to relieve an ache there. “I thought I knew what I was doing.” But he wouldn’t be alone in Polly’s spare bed if that was the case. He’d have Audrey in his arms, and the stiffness in his lower back would feel like nothing.

“Shit, man. Get sleep. It’ll look different in the morning.”

From his unanswered texts to Audrey, he figured it would look worse.

When he woke, hands stiff and sore, bruising over his torso and back, muscle strain in one thigh and across his lumbar, Audrey had responded. She was fine. Mia said Snapper missed him. That made him smile. He should take the day off to rest.

All perfectly reasonable. But it made him ansty. He called. Got voicemail and stuttered a message about nothing sensible. He wanted Audrey’s real voice, real responses. He was tempted to simply lob over there. He hung up and rang again. Mailbox again. If he lobbed, he was making a thing out of it. She was well again, in theory his weekends were his own now. In theory, he didn’t need to use her guest room, but they’d avoided dealing with that.

Fuck theory. He was going over there. He’d spooked her. He’d put it right.

He drove home to Charlie’s. In the mood he was in he could make things worse with Audrey. Neeva met him on the verandah, on her way out in a netball uniform. “Muuum, Reeeece,” she yelled back down the hall.

“Hey.”

They high-fived and she grabbed for his hand and poked his knuckles. “So you beat up dudes.”

He rescued his hand with a grunt. “What did Flip tell you?”