Slow Grind (Men of Mornington)

“The only thing I’m learning is how far you’re willing to go to piss me off,” I growl. The other guys look up with interest as she struts over to stop me leaving.

“What are you talking about?” she says, dropping her voice. She plays innocent so well; I almost believe her. “I was just showing him what to do, isn’t that what you wanted?” Her dark eyes lock onto mine, and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. “You made it clear we weren’t going to happen, so you don’t get to act like this, okay? If you’re going to question every little thing I do, then maybe you should just stay away from me for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. I’m such an idiot; she’s right. What she does is none of my business. I’m making a big deal out of nothing. The only thing I’ve managed to achieve here is letting the guys think there is something going on. I glance back in their direction and scowl at Sam, who is slowly shaking his head in amusement.

“So are you going to run away like a spoilt five-year-old who didn’t get his lollypop, or are you going to learn this routine and help save your best mate’s life?” she asks, hand on hip, determination in her eyes.

“Learn the fucking routine,” I mutter. Way to make me feel like a selfish wanker. “Can you just lay off the grinding?”

“Fine,” she says, grabbing my hand, yanking me back toward the guys.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“If you don’t want me to use them, then I guess I have to use you.”

Fuck. That’s even worse. How the fuck am I gonna mask the raging boner I know I’m gonna get if she goes anywhere near me with that arse? Even more so, how am I going to keep my hands off her?

“Okay,” Aubrey nods, her brow creased in concentration. “You’re getting it. Sam, you just need to bend that knee more so you’re lower to the ground. And Nash, it’s left, right, left, up, not the other way around.”

We’ve been at this for hours, and the only thing keeping me going right now is knowing this is all for Max. He’s been laid back on the couch for the last hour, watching us, looking like he’s about to pass out—or die. Every few minutes, I catch Aubs looking over at him as he coughs up his lungs. When he starts spitting up blood, I know she’s worried about him, and to be honest, I am, too. The guy needs a doctor or something, whether he likes it or not. If we’re not quitting, he can’t, either.

“Okay, I think we’re done for the day. Aubs, can you grab Max his jacket? And maybe a blanket?” She pads out of the room, returning a few seconds later with both.

“Where are you taking him?” she asks.

“To the hospital. No arguments,” I add when Max arks up. I heave him to his feet, throwing his arm around my neck. Sam jumps on the other side, and together we lead him out to my car.

“Here,” Aubrey says, jumping in front of us so she can open the car door. We load him in the back, wrapping the blanket tightly around his shivering body. “I’m going to sit back here with him,” Aubrey says, climbing in next to her brother.

“I’ll come, too,” Sam offers.

“I’ll keep you guys up to date,” I tell Cam and Nash before sliding into the driver’s seat. I glance back at Max. He looks even worse, if that is possible, and I wince as he lets out another dry, hacking cough.

“It’s okay, man. I’ll have you at emergency soon,” I promise him. He mutters something under his breath. I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?” I ask, eyeing him in the rear vision mirror.

“He said he liked it better when you were too focused on other shit to worry about him,” Aubrey pipes up. Max glowers at her, and I laugh.

“Right now, you’re my number one priority.”

We pull into the emergency department of Royal Melbourne Hospital. Sam and Aubs jump out with Max. Aubs disappears for a minute, returning with a wheelchair. Smart girl. She helps Max into the seat, and she and Sam push him into the ER department while I spend the next five hours fighting for a carpark.

Really, it only takes me twenty minutes to find a park, and by the time I’m back in the waiting room, Max is already being seen by a doctor. I sit down next to Sam, who gives me a slap on the back.

“He’ll be okay.”

“But what if he isn’t? What if all this is too late?” I ask. I’m not ready to lose my friend. As selfish as it is, I need him around. Who is going to listen to me whinge about shit? There’s plenty of stuff I tell Max that I couldn’t tell Sam or the other guys. Like when my parents first told me they were splitting, or when I had a crush on Melanie Preacher in ninth grade.

“Don’t think like that,” Sam replies.

Easier said than done.

Two hours later, we are still waiting for news. We’ve heard nothing, other than a five-minute visit from Aubs to tell us they’re running some tests. I watch as she disappears back into the patient area, unaware Sam is eyeing me off.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on there?” he asks.

“What?” I can’t keep the defensiveness out of my tone. “No idea what you mean.” I shrug and slouch forward in my seat, studying my hands intently.

“Come on, man; I’m not an idiot. It’s obvious every time you look at her that something is going on. And then there’s your little tantrum earlier.” He studies my face, a grin forming on his mouth. “You’re fucking Max’s kid sister, aren’t you?”