Dysfunctional Hearts Read online

  Maddie pulls on my hand. Carefully, I crouch down in front of her, trying to keep my dress from touching the floor.

  “You okay, Madds?”

  She shakes her head, causing her ringlets to bounce over her shoulders. “I feel sick,” she replies, her eyes darting all over the place.

  I take her hands in mine. “Oh. Is it like a nervous sick, or you feel ill sick?” I hold my breath, waiting for her to answer.

  “Funny tummy sick.”

  I smile. “Do you want to know a secret?”

  She nods, biting on her gloss-covered lips.

  “We all feel a little nervous. It’s an important day.”

  Her lip quivers ever so slightly. “But what if I trip?” she asks. I see so much of Flick in her, I wouldn’t think they were only half-sisters.

  “I’ll be there to catch you if you do.” I squeeze her hand to reassure her.

  But who the hell will catch me?

  I stand up straight and seek him out, my eyes finding Charlie. When did he become the one I sought out? When did he become…more?

  My stomach does an uneasy summersault, beads of sweat break out. This cannot be happening.

  Charlie

  I sense someone, and sure enough, I catch Sophie’s piercing eyes staring directly over to me. I tilt my head to the side and mouth, “are you okay?”

  She shakes her head. No.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say to Nate, already walking away before he can protest. His jaw drops as I walk past him and make a beeline toward Sophie.

  “Got a second?” I ask her as I approach. She nods.

  “Madds, you wait here with Emelia. I just need to speak to Charlie really quick,” she tells Flick’s adorable little sister.

  Emelia, Flicks mum, smiles and takes Maddie’s hand in hers.

  I gently cup Sophie by the elbow, and we round the side of the house, away from prying ears. Her scent washes over me in a small invisible wave—something floral with a hint of vanilla, like she’s been baking—it’s sweet and intimate and all her.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  She flaps her hands in front of her before dropping them to her sides. “I’m freaking out.”

  “Why? You’re not the one getting married,” I say, and if eyes could kill, I’m pretty confident I’d be dead right now. Humour is not the way forward.

  “Ha bloody ha. I’m nervous. There I was telling Maddie how I’ll catch her if she falls, but what happens if I trip up?”

  I let out a chuckle, trying my hardest to focus on her face and not openly appraise her. “Why would you trip?”

  She stares at me, unblinking. I smile and take hold of her shoulder. “I’ve got your back. I won’t let you.”

  Her face falls. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I rarely get like this. Not anymore, not…”

  Shit. I see her eyes mist over and grab for my handkerchief. Evie insisted we all had them, even though Nate and I snickered. It cost us both a clip around the ear hole, so we took them, no argument.

  “Here.” I pass it to her. Her eyes cast down to my hand then back to my face, as her lips form a smirk. “Just take it, would you?” I say, waving it in front of her and averting my eyes.

  “Thanks,” she says, gently wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Is my mascara okay?”

  I study her face. “Looks like mascara to me.”

  She slaps my shoulder. “I mean, has it run?”

  “Run where?” It’s like I have verbal diarrhoea each time I open my mouth. I grab the hankie out of Soph’s hand and lean closer. Her breath tickles my chin as I wipe away the tiny smudge from under her eye.

  “There, all perfect,” I say, and wink before dropping my hand. “Ready?”

  She straightens her shoulders with a nod, and I can’t help but notice how her chest pokes out. Placing my palm on the small of her bare back, we return to join the rest of the wedding party.

  As we wait for the ceremony to begin, she crouches down and whispers something to Maddie, causing her to smile brightly. When she rights herself again, she takes hold of my arm to prepare for our walk down the aisle.

  “Let’s do this,” I whisper into her hair. Her cheeks beam a soft hue of blush.

  I think of the number of times my dad has married since becoming a widow. Internally, I shake my head. Three failed marriages. It was inevitable, of course, my mum was irreplaceable. But it only made me resent him when I saw who those women were after saying ‘I do’.

  Deep down, I wanted him to be happy again. I hoped he would be the dad I knew before losing Mum—the man who would put me on his shoulders and make me feel like I could reach the moon. My favourite days were ones spent at the beach. As the sun went down, we’d all sit around the fire pit, and Mum would regale us with stories about the meaning of the stars. All his affection towards me left with her. I know a part of him died with her because part of me died that day, too.

  Chapter 2

  Charlie

  The ceremony went as Nate and Flick planned—no hitches—but I know I won’t be able to relax until after the speeches.

  I grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and down it in one quick gulp before placing it back on his tray and taking another. The aftertaste of bubbles tingles my nose. I tilt my glass at him in a thank you gesture, and the corner of his mouth lifts in acknowledgement as he continues.

  Rachel waves Molly’s hand in my direction, and I send a wink her way in response. A roar of laughter echoes, belonging to Flick’s uncle, Gabriel. He’s probably had one too many. I move to intercept him when Flick’s dad comes to the rescue and hands him a bottle of water, ushering him to sit with Maddie hot on his heels, a miniature version of Flick.

  My stomach grumbles when a warm, spicy, and flavoursome aroma wafts towards me. Man, I’m hungry, but it’s photos first. I spot someone passing by with a tray of those little canapé things. “Hey, excuse me,” I say to a server who turns to me and walks over, tray in hand. I grab at a few of the napkins and a handful of puff pastry filled hors d’oeuvres. At this point, I don’t even care what they are. “Thanks,” I say and pop one straight into my mouth. The girl smiles, not taking her eyes off me, and I can’t help myself when I smirk and wink at her. She nibbles on her bottom lip. She’s attractive enough, but her allure pales in comparison to the woman I can’t get out of my head. I turn away and finish off the canapés.

  “Penny for them,” Soph says, as she pokes me in my ribs.

  “Hey, you. I haven’t seen you around in a few weeks.”

  She scrunches up her nose. “You saw me before the ceremony.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” I say, and she knows it.

  She clasps her hands in front of her. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been busy since we came back from Torquay.” She shifts on her feet.

  I suppose there’s not much I can say to that, except I don’t think that’s the only reason. We’ve become close, and it was a little awkward after she woke up in my arms. It was innocent. We fell asleep and woke up to the sunrise. And I can deny it as much as I want, but it was intimate, and we kept it to ourselves.

  “It was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?”

  “One of the better ones I’ve seen,” I say.

  “I know you’re not particularly fond of these things, but it was beautiful,” she says, lifting her chin.

  I elbow her gently and smile. “It was, and I’m made up for the two of them. They remind me of Mum and Dad and how they had a love like that.” My voice cracks. I don’t know where that came from, or why I just admitted it to her. Sometimes, out of nowhere, I remember what I’ve lost and how fucking ripped off we were.

  She touches my shoulder, her gaze holds an understanding rather than pity. But that’s Sophie—empathetic to a fault.

  “It’s rare, but I’ll tell you this… My girl right there,” she says, pointing out Flick in the crowd. “She deserves the best and Nate has proven he’s it for her.”

  While she’s sta
ring at Flick, I watch her face as it lights up with her words. She’s right. Today isn’t meant to be melancholy. It’s about celebrating my best friend and his wife—enough of this feeling sorry for myself bullshit.

  “You look lovely, by the way. I never had a chance to tell you earlier, but you do. You’re…beautiful.”

  She tries to hide her smile and tugs on her earlobe before smoothing out the invisible creases of her dress. A flush creeps up over her face, and I think it might be my favourite colour on her.

  “It was all Felicity. She has good taste.” She draws in her lower lip between her teeth.

  “Don’t be so modest, you’re gorgeous.” I can’t stop myself.

  She chews the inside of her cheek, and her fingers absentmindedly pick at her nail varnish. I noticed that habit when I first met her…that and her nail colour kind of always represents her mood. Today it’s a light pastel, almost iridescent.

  I take her hands in mine and still her. She glances up, clearing her throat to speak. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  And before I can answer, she pulls her hands softly from mine, turns, and drifts away in a sea of people.

  “Smooth,” Nate whispers in my ear, nudging me in the ribs.

  “Shut up, man,” I joke, turning to him.

  “You know, the two of you getting together wouldn’t be the worst idea. You could be as happy as me, man.”

  I shake my head. Here he goes again. “Easy, tiger. How about you concentrate on your new wife instead of playing matchmaker. Oh, look, photo time.” I point out to the photographer.

  He slaps me on my back and jogs over to his new bride, but not before glancing back to me with a smug grin on his face. He ushers over the photographer, and who knows what the heck he’s up to now.

  The photographer claps his hands together with a loud echo. “Okay, can we please have the maid of honour and the best man?”

  I turn in a circle until I see Sophie approaching, and, meeting her halfway, I glance back to an enthusiastic photographer.

  “I warn you, Nate’s in wind-up mode about us again.”

  She shrugs it off. “When isn’t he? Hey…we could always reverse the tables?”

  “Okay, you’ve piqued my interest, what do you have in mind?” Sophie loves a prank as much as I do. I lean in, and she raises on her tiptoes and cups her hand over my ear, her hot breath waking up all my senses.

  “A kiss should stop him in his tracks. Besides, it will teach them both a lesson for always going on at us.”

  I laugh and swallow hard. The thought of us kissing… Even if it’s to wind up Nate, I know I can’t say no. “I’m game if you are. And it’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” I say with a wink.

  She shoves my shoulder when the photographer appears in my peripheral. Reaching out, I grab her around the waist and pull her around towards me. She lets out a surprised gasp, and I glance up to see the photographer positioned in front of us.

  “Act natural… That’s it… Lovely,” he says, his bohemian hair sticking up in every direction.

  I pause, waiting for him to say cheese, but it doesn’t come. I stare down to Soph and see the rise and fall of her chest.

  I cup the back of her neck and place my palm on the small of her back. My fingertips graze her warm, bare skin. And then I dip her backwards as I’ve seen in the old movies—the ones my mum used to love so much.

  It’s like gravity is pulling me closer, and I’m powerless to stop it. When my lips meet hers, I give her neck a gentle squeeze, and a puff of air causes her lips to part. And then we’re kissing. I think a groan makes its way up my throat, but I can’t be sure because I’m so immersed in the moment. A throaty moan escapes her, and my body comes alive. I deepen the kiss.

  It’s only when the faint sound of cheers and hollers comes into focus—followed by a deep wolf whistle—that I break the kiss. Reluctant to pull away, I rest my forehead on hers for a beat before I bring her upright. I clear my throat and try to hide the fact I’m now somewhat restricted in the lower region.

  “Okay then,” she says, her face as flushed as I feel, her breathing heavy. My arm is still around her waist and I feel it when she tenses beside me. No longer making eye contact with me.

  I’m a dick. A grade-A fucking dick. I used the pull between us to take that kiss further when I’m pretty sure she just meant a chaste kiss for the camera. But it’s like at that moment, I couldn’t ignore the chemistry that’s been brewing just beneath the surface.

  I pull her gently into me and place my finger under her chin, tilting her face towards me. She peeks up; my stomach does flips. “Soph, I got carried away, I’m sorry. I took it too far,” I say so only she can hear.

  She sucks in a breath, pulls her shoulders back, and smiles. Her armour’s in place—a barrier she erects.

  “Charlie, chill. What’s a kiss between friends?”

  And that’s when its dawns on me.

  I want to be more than that.

  She pats my arse playfully, and there I go getting aroused again. Down, boy.

  “So, we’re good?”

  She nods with her chin in the air, angling her face in the direction of the photographer. My arm is still wrapped securely around her waist, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me how some of the guys here have been checking her out. Let them think we’re together.

  My heart picks up speed; she appears as calm and collected as ever. If it weren’t for the way she kissed me back, I’d believe she was unaffected. But deep down, I know better.

  The rest of the wedding party file around us for the group photos.

  With an aching jaw from the smiling, we head back to the gazebo, where I grab a glass of champagne, downing it in one gulp before taking my place at the head table.

  I glance down towards Soph, who is fussing over Maddie. I can’t stop thinking about her lips on mine when I should be thinking about the best man’s speech I’m about to give. I’m keeping it short, even though I’ve struggled with how to word it.

  Sod it, here goes nothing.

  I stand, clearing my throat, and tap my knife against the water glass. I’ve been to my fair share to know it never fared well for the champagne flute.

  “Hello, everyone! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Charlie, Nate’s best man. I met him on my first day at secondary school right after I moved here from Australia. Even back then, he was a ladies’ man—always had a girl following him around—but for those of us fortunate enough to know the real Nate, we know there’s only ever been one girl for him… And she is sitting right beside him today.

  He knows better than anyone how I feel about weddings and marriage in general. So, believe me when I say I’ve seen my fair share of failed marriages. I’m in no way trying to downplay what they have. I know when he asked her to be his wife, he meant it. And honestly, I can’t think of any two people more deserving of one another.

  I could stand here all night and tell you about some of the shenanigans he got us into over the years. But I won’t. Instead, I want to say that I’m proud to be part of their big day. Besides, I do need some blackmail material for when they have kids… So please, will you all join me and raise your glasses, a toast to Mr. and Mrs. Davenport! May your future be full of love, health and happiness…but most of all, laughter.”

  Everyone breaks out into cheers, and I can’t help but scan the length of the table, my eyes meeting Sophie’s. Her lips spread into a megawatt smile, which she tries to hide behind her champagne glass. I send a wink her way, and even from here, I see her cheeks begin to glow. And just like that, any worries I had about our kiss evaporate.

  Chapter 3

  Sophie

  I watched Charlie today when everyone else was busy gushing over the bride and groom. I’d find myself migrating my focus towards him, stealing glances here and there. The kiss still lingers on my lips, even now. I’ve never shared a kiss like that. In that moment, everything around us faded to dust. Maybe it was the extra glas
ses of bubbly I snuck, trying to take the edge off. My nerves were on tenterhooks.

  The alcohol left me with a buzz, but I made a promise to myself to be on my best behaviour. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I drink, and before I know it, it gets the best of me. I made a conscious effort to sneak more than my fair share on canapés to line my stomach to soak it up before we finally sat down to eat. But Charlie kissing me had me forgetting myself, and then it dawned on me—how much he affects me—and no matter how much I try to ignore it, everything is changing.

  I’m standing to the side of the dance floor, right next to an actual photo booth just like the one Flick and me used to visit in Woolworths. We’d always have our photos taken before heading to the Saturday morning cinema. Maddie giggles between a pause in the music and I notice she’s standing on her dad’s feet as he glides around the dance floor. My chest aches. Flick had that growing up, and now Maddie does, too. I never did. My parents weren’t all bad—they adopted me, after all—but I don’t think they’re fit to be parents. I guess they thought it was what they should do, not necessarily what they wanted to do. But it also makes me feel guilty, thinking like this; I was luckier than most. Maybe they weren’t tactile, but I had a roof over my head, three meals a day. My life could have been very different.

  “Come on, photo?”

  And just like that, Charlie grabs hold of my hand and pulls me inside. It’s so cramped, I stumble into his lap. Not my most graceful of moments. I reach around me to pull the curtain closed.

  “I think we’ve had enough photos for one day, don’t you?” My cheeks begin to heat, being so close to him again and the thought of his lips on mine.

  “Oh, don’t be such a spoil spoilt.” He gives me a ridiculous pout—how am I supposed to refuse that messed up face?

  “Fine, hurry up then.” I try to move, so I’m not putting my weight all over him, but he shakes his head and pulls me down into his lap and moves my leg, so it’s a little less uncomfortable. Then he presses the button.