Dream of Us
Chapter Sixteen

Denali’s POV.

She looks beautiful today. I mean, she always looks beautiful, but today happiness is radiating off her. She obviously enjoys her job but she’s more relaxed in this setting, it’s good to see. She’s wearing this floral dress that shows off her shapely legs and enough cleavage that I have to stop my eyes from continually dropping down to get an eyeful.

I finally met her boyfriend, what a boring sod he is. He looked miserable for the full hour he was here; I could hear him complaining to Dyani across the garden. I don’t know how she puts up with him, just overhearing their conversation was enough to bum me out. I don’t understand why she is with him; she must feel sorry for him or something.

We stand in front of the drinks table, assessing the spirits and mixers. I pick up a passion fruit liquor and assess the bottle. I don’t know much about alcohol, the little I drank before everything happened was at house parties and it was mostly vodka or beer.

“What were you drinking before?” I ask her.

“A cocktail of some sort,” she replies, eyeing her cup with intrigue. “I think it had vodka and fruit juice in it.”

I’m glad she’s as clueless as me, hopefully she won’t judge me when she realises I have no idea what I’m doing.

“This makes me want to take one of those cocktail-making masterclasses. You know the ones where they teach you to make fancy drinks in an hour?”

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open in shock. I momentarily wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Oh, my god! I’ve always wanted to take one of those!”

“Really? I have no idea about cocktails, I’d like to be able to make something at least.”

She laughs as if she can’t believe what I’m saying. “That’s so funny that you want to take one, too. I booked a course for me and my boyfriend, but he didn’t want to do it, so we never went.”

I frown at her. “That’s annoying, why didn’t he want to do it?”

“He thought it was pointless.”

“Apparently not because we’re both stood here with a table full of drinks, not knowing what to do,” I joke, and we both laugh.

“Yeah, looking back on it, I should really have gone alone without him.”

“Probably. For now, Google will have to do.”

I pull out my phone and search up popular and easy cocktail recipes. With a bit of help, I whip together a Woo-Woo. I take a sip and nod in approval. Ani looks with interest; I hold the glass out towards her.

“Want to try it?”

She blushes and shyly says yes, drinking from my glass. It’s the most intimate thing we have done in ten years.

“That tastes really good.”

“It’s so easy, that’s why. Want me to make you one?”

Dyani watches me as I show her how to make her own Woo-woo. When we’re finished, we find a vacant table with chairs and sit down together. I assess my pinkish-red drink and grin at her.

“Not the most masculine drink, I’ll confess.”

She giggles and shrugs. “You seem pretty comfortable in your sexuality and identity; I don’t think your ego is fragile enough to be threatened by a pink drink.”

I smirk at her. “I certainly hope not.”

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Ani’s POV.

Why is he so attractive?

I can’t stop my eyes dropping to his chest, where the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. The tempting triangle of dark skin is hard to stop looking at.

“How long are you staying here till?”

My phone is burning a hole in my pocket. Jaymie is waiting for me at home, he’d love me to come home sooner than later. But I don’t want to leave, I’m having a much better time here than I would at home with him.

“Another couple hours probably, I haven’t got anything else to do today.”

Adrian frowns. “What about your boyfriend?”

I glance away, unable to lie to those army-green eyes. “He has a lot of work to do, he probably won’t even notice how long I’m gone.”

“Oh, okay.” When I look back, he’s smiling. “I guess that means I get the pleasure of your company for a bit longer.”

“Yeah, I guess you do,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. “How long are you staying till?”

He grins. “As long as you’re here, I’ll stay.” I blush at his reply, and he laughs. “I’ll be honest, you’re the reason I came.”

“What?” I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“When Sian mentioned you were coming, that’s what sealed the deal for me and made me decide to come.”

I should be freaked out, shouldn’t I? This guy is too flirty, too smooth, too interested. I can’t bring myself to be put off by it though, it’s flattering to feel wanted.

“Why?”

His eyes darken and he gives me a smile that is pure seduction. “I wanted to get to know you, outside of being my waitress.”

My waitress.

“What do you want to know? I’m not very interesting.”

He shakes his head. “I highly doubt that. I want to know everything. For example, your childhood, what was that like?”

I grimace at the mention of childhood memories. Everyone always has at least a handful, if not more. I always feel like there’s something wrong with me because I can’t remember anything before I joined my foster home, which was when I was fifteen.

“Um, I’m not too sure really. I can’t remember a lot of it. I was taken into foster care at fifteen and adopted by my foster mum, I have a lot of good memories with her growing up.”

“You went into a foster home?” He asks with interest. “My parents died when I was ten.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply empathetically. “I can relate. My parents died when I was fifteen, that’s why I was taken into foster care. All I know is they were in a car crash; I don’t remember them or it happening. I just woke up one morning and I was in a foster home, I don’t even remember how I got there.”

“Wow,” he murmurs, his eyes wide. “That’s intense.”

“I know,” I laugh awkwardly. “It might be easier to talk about you. What was your childhood like?”

“It was awesome if I’m honest. I’m an only child but I had two friends that I called my brothers because we were so close. We grew up together, we spent every waking moment together and hung out all the time.”

“Are you still in contact with them now?”

His face becomes shuttered, and sadness appears in his eyes.

“They’re on the other side of the world, so we’ve lost touch,” he says and swallows thickly. “I’m hoping to reconnect with them soon.”

“Aw, that’s a shame, I hope you see them again.”

He nods, smiling at me. “So do I. When you’re as close as we were…not much can keep you apart.”

“Exactly. I bet when you see them again it will be like no time has passed.”

He laughs at my comment. “We’ll probably look quite different from when we last saw each other, but I agree with your sentiment, it will be like nothing’s changed between us.”

“Do they have social media? Can you stay in touch that way?”

“They don’t actually, the three of us were never big on social media, we preferred in-person contact.”

“I understand that,” I reply knowingly. “I’m not on any social media, it just doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Me neither.”

Once again, I’m struck by how similar we are. Nearly everyone I know has some sort of social media account.

I look down at my glass and realise it’s empty, I’ve been sipping away as we’ve talked. Adrian has finished his drink, too.

“Do you think it’s time for us to attempt to try another cocktail?”

He nods and grins. “I’m thinking sex on the beach.”

I get to my feet, turning my nose up at him. “Won’t that mean getting sand in places you never want sand?”

He laughs at my terrible joke, making my stomach flutter at the deep, baritone sound.

“I’ve always wondered why it was called that. Sex on a beach doesn’t really appeal to me, but the cocktail does,” he replies.

“Me, neither. It does sound like a recipe for a sand disaster, doesn’t it?”

We joke some more as we help each other make another fruity cocktail. Across the garden, Sian catches my eye and gives me a look that translates to ‘Look at you, flirting with Adrian’. I smile and pretend to be oblivious to what she is trying to convey. I turn back to Adrian and focus on him instead.

I know I’m flirting with him. This is the most I’ve smiled in a long time and my cheeks actually hurt from all the smiling and laughing I’m doing. It’s disrespectful to Jaymie and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I’m having too much fun.

The buzz of alcohol starts to hit me as I drink my next cocktail, listening to Adrian tell me tales of what he and his friends got up to as children. It strikes me that alcohol and Adrian are probably not a good mix for my susceptible body and mind, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.

Might as well go with the flow.

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