Beachside Banter

Ropes snaked along the arrivals gate; a crumpled sign read Mr Hugh Jarse. Britt craned her neck, tiptoeing to see over the crowd.

“Very funny,” Britt turned to see Max smiling in amusement.

“My original version said I have herpes, and you might too,” she said shoving the crumpled paper into her pocket and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Always a charmer.”

“You love it. That’s why we’re friends.”

Fighting through the crowd, they weaved their way through the airport. Britt stole a look at Max who’d filled out a little since the last time she’d seen him, the traces of boyhood now gone.

“It’s really good to see you, I’m glad Freya let you off the leash long enough to come,” she teased. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the taxi pulling up.

--

“Shit view. I don’t know how I’ll survive three days, especially with the company,” Britt voraciously sucked at the remnants of a Pina Colada.

“God, I hate paper straws, I know they’re better for the environment, but they suck, or don’t more to the point.” she said tossing the soggy tube.

“So much hostility. And it’s hardly better for the environment if you throw it on the ground.”

“So, you never told me what happened,” Max said, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Why are so many pools shaped like a kidney?” She had been bracing herself for his question. The question echoed many times over the past few months. She still didn’t have the right words for the real answer, especially for not Max.

“Don’t deflect Britt, I speak to you every week and you don’t tell me your engagement was called off, what happened?”

‘I think,” she paused. “I think he realised my heart belongs to someone else,” she said dramatically.

“Really? Who?”

“Duke.”

“Duke? As in your dog?”

“Men simply can’t compare with dogs. Quite a cruel joke from mother nature.”

“Britt, it was three months before your wedding. As a Bridesman, or Bridesperson, I feel like I have the right to know.”

“Dodged a bullet,” she shrugged jumping to her feet. “And don’t pretend you’re not happy I could move the flights back so you could come hang out, how good is this place?”

She seesawed her shoulders in a little dance.

“Let’s see if mine are still bigger than yours. Cannonballs I mean.” she said with a cheeky smirk, launching backwards into the pool.

He paused, watching her emerge from ripples on the surface, flicking back her rope of dripping hair. His eyes were drawn to her chest, her swimsuit twisted, a whisper of fabric all that was covering one side. Following his gaze, she swiftly yanked the suit back into place. He darted his eyes down to the textured concrete, his face flushed.

“Sorry, nearly gave you an eyeful. My bad. Are you getting in or what?”

 Rising to his feet he took a running leap, launching into the pool, greeted mid-air with a beachball to the head.

“That’s it, you’re going down Furley,” he said laughing as he propelled the beachball with force. Britt ducked as it caught the wind and sailed over her head.

“Unlikely,” she said teasing as he began a splashing attack.

--

“Shit that’s a nasty cut,” the receptionist winced. His name badge read Daryl and Britt wondered if he’d stolen it from his dad.

“Do you have a medical officer at the resort?”

“Well, it’s kind of me, I mean, I have a first aid certificate,” Daryl shrugged.

“Never mind, do you have a first aid kit?”

Max was sprawled over a lounge in the foyer, fingers laced over his head, blood and water mixing as it streamed down his shin.

Daryl returned with a first aid kit, laying it out on the floor.

“Are you a doctor or something?” he said peering over her shoulder.

“Nurse Practitioner actually."

"You won’t need stitches; I’ll just clean it up and put on a bandage. Um, also, Daryl – there’s some glass near the pool, you might want to get someone to clean it up.”

“So maybe Slam Dunk Jaeger Bombs weren’t a great idea?” Max groaned.

“Maybe not for unco people.” Britt felt Max’s gaze as she worked.

Britt glanced up at Max, a cylinder of light darted across his face, she’d never noticed his amber eyes had a celestial quality with tiny flecks of brown and gold. Their eyes locked on each other; her breath caught. She quickly shook off the tightening in her chest, suddenly aware of his muscular legs as she looped the stretchy bandage.

“So, it’s not bad?” He groaned.

“Nah still need to amputate, Daryl, pass me the hacksaw!”

---

They perched beside the open-air bar, an amber glow split the horizon.

“Excuse me!” Britt laughed after a hiccup. “Just adding to the ambiance.”

“Day drinking will do that to you,” Max held his drink in salute.

“Thanks for fixing up my leg. I’ve always found the whole nurse thing kinda hot.”

“Um, what?”

“Um, no....I mean...like in general, medical, and....naughty nurse, like generally.”

Britt was staring at him with furrowed brows, chewing her straw.

“If you’re about to tell me Freya has a costume, please don’t.”

A DJ appeared in a tiny booth beside the bar and the thick beats of hip hop music vibrated the floor. Britt sprang to her feet as the signature autotune of California Love rang out.

“Come on Max, you love this song! Or has Freya banned all fun?”

Max slapped his elbow like a sprinkler before attempting the stationary jog of the running man, stumbling when his thong caught on the floor expelling his foot. Brit snorted loudly, bumping into Max as the broke into hysterical laughter.

The DJ mixed the track until the throaty tone of Pony let out its pulsating beat. Britt sang every word while rolling her body with the music, noticing Max was watching her with an intensity as he edged closer. Their eyes met, their movements becoming more slow, sensual and deliberate as they closed the distance between them, hips now touching, bodies intertwined. Britt’s heartbeat quickened, their mouths sharing oxygen, a palpable tension awakened, and she could feel his legs tremble. Max gently ran his fingers down Britt’s arm, his other hand sliding across the small of her back, her face flushed as bolts of energy followed his touch. Max leaned in, putting his face next to hers, her cheek tingled in places their skin met.

“I broke up with Freya,” he said, breath hot against her ear.

Pulling away she was suddenly aware of their surroundings, her head reeling. The DJ changed the song, picking up the pace, and Britt used the welcome diversion to pull back, edging towards a boisterous hen’s party joining them on the dancefloor. Britt shook her chest in unison with a woman wearing a satin bridesmaid sash, eventually dropping into the splits, the rowdy crowd let out a whooping cheer.

“Ah geez I think I pulled a hammy.” she said rubbing her thigh.

“Can we go somewhere, to talk?” Max laced his fingers with Britt’s and led her out of the bar.

Britt dropped heavily onto the sand, hugging her knees into her chest. She marvelled at the stars and felt Max’s eyes on her. She peeled back her upper lip revealing her teeth and crossed her eyes.

“Britt,” he murmured unimpressed.

“What’s gotten into you today? We are here to have fun, insert fun here,” Her head was spinning from the heated dancefloor encounter, she desperately wanted to lighten the mood.

“I just told you I broke up with Freya and you have nothing to say?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I guess I was a little shocked, and drunk. Are you ok about it?”

It was hard for her to talk about Freya, drunk or otherwise. Britt had barely seen Max since they’d started dating, she could tell Freya was jealous of their friendship, slowly pushing Britt out of his life. Freya’s influence on Max made him so serious, cold even.

“It was a long time coming. She could be quite controlling,” Max said cupping the sand.

“Yes, not to mention the most humourless person I have ever met, if her personality was a colour, she'd be beige.”

“Well not every 25-year-old appreciates toilet humour, especially outside your nursing circles.”

“The day you’re too old to find farts funny is the day your soul dies. Ask my niece, fart jokes are her life.” 

“I broke up with her when I found out about you and Dom.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d been unhappy for a long time, when I heard about you and Dom, I was relieved.”

“Well shit, great friend you are.”

“I was relieved because I realised, I never had the chance to tell you how I feel,” he said swallowing hard. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time Britt, not just as friends. I was going to tell you so many times but never worked up the courage, then you met Dom and things moved so fast, I thought I wouldn’t get the chance.”

There was a thick, heavy silence as they stared at each other, her face hot, heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

He leaned forward to place some stray hairs behind her ear then cupped her face, gently pulling her forward into a kiss. Their mouths crashed together urgently, pressure building and awakening something between them. Their tongues met and caressed each other as they rose to their knees, hands desperately pulling each other closer. Britt pulled away, breaking the glue binding their bodies, leaving them both panting.

“What the hell was in those cocktails?” Britt steadied herself, rising to her feet.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to get to bed before I turn into a pumpkin."

“Wait, Britt!” Max pleaded. “Shit!” he groaned running his fingers through his hair.

She paused for a moment, almost turning back when Max shouted after her, choosing the cover of shadows.

--

Britt and Max sat in silence, the massive tour boat rose and fell with the waves. Britt cursed the decision to drink heavily the day before an early boat trip on choppy waters.

One last weightless lift followed by a steep crash down onto a wave sent Max running for the toilet, where he remained barricaded until the boat docked on a pontoon.

Britt shot up as the boat halted, the sudden lack of air stifling as she limped to the open-air section at the front of the boat. She heaved, then vomited over the side, the lack of airflow causing the vomit to slide down the front of the boat.

“That’s really nasty, it’s just smeared down the side,” Max said leaning on the railing beside her, flinching as she turned to smack him playfully.

“Some people christen boats with champagne; I use the fermented contents of my stomach. It’s probably got the same alcohol content.”

“Do you still want to snorkel?”

“Of course, the Great Barrier Reef is a pretty good place to die of a hangover.”

--

The waitress arranged their plates on the table, scowling as they clawed at their burgers, shovelling food into their mouths. 

“Great day, how good was that giant clam,” Britt said, unfazed by her full mouth.

“Great until I basically harpooned myself. Thanks for fixing up my bandage.”

“To be honest I was a bit worried you’d attract a shark so was getting ready to use you as a human shield.”

They sat in an awkward silence, Britt felt strangely nervous.

“So um, how do you feel about last night?” Max asked. 

“Aside from full of regret about my life choices?” she said shoving a chip in her mouth.

“Which part do you regret?”

“Probably the part I left down the side of the boat. It was that bloody tequila before the DJ came on.”

“And, what about the beach?”

“I don’t remember much, tequila induced amnesia” she lied.

“How much is not much?”

“As in nothing, and enough.” She avoided his gaze that threatened to burn a hole into her face.

“Sorry but I’m exhausted, are you ok if I turn in?”

“Sure,” he said with a sigh of resignation.

--

Britt made it to the summit of the cliffside walking track, panting with her hands on her hips. Max was a few meters behind, bent over his knees.

“God is that the top, or is there more?” Max said breathlessly.

“I think it's definitely the top time, how amazing is that view?” she said jumping over some jagged rocks embedded in the path. Max jogged, sweat beading on his forehead as he fell back to Britt’s side.

“It’s been so nice having this time with you. It feels like the old days when we lived together, just hanging out.”

Fat drops of rain thundered down sending them scrambling for cover under an umbrella of foliage. Steam rose off the rubbery shrubs surrounding the path as they waited, watching the rain.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Max said, almost blurting the words out.

“I know you may think you’re a god, but you aren’t responsible for rain Max,” Britt teased.

 “No Britt, I’m sorry for what I said. You and Dom only called your wedding off a few months ago and the last thing you need is your friend professing feelings, let alone shitfaced.”

The rain was coming down in silky sheets around them, their foliage shelter surprisingly effective, puddles forming at their feet.

“I have to tell you something,” she said taking a deep breath. “Dom and I broke up because he overheard a conversation my sister Katie and I had and got in his head about it. Katie asked me if I still had feelings for you.”

“What do you mean still have feelings?”

“I guess I didn’t realise how I felt. I tried to ignore it, and one of us always had a partner, so I focused on being friends. But when Freya the friend slayer came along, I missed you so much, I realised you mean so much more to me.” Britt fought back tears.

Max gently leaned forward and caressed Britt’s face. Their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, a tender exchange that spoke volumes. The power surge reignited, and she pulled him close, deepening the connection.

Max pulled away after a few minutes searching her eyes.

“I think a part of me knew when I asked you on this trip that I wanted this, wanted you. Dom knew before I did.”

“Can we give it a try? I mean we’re kind of past the point of no return on the friendship side of things.”

“Yes, but maybe take it slow? I still have to sort myself out, and that kiss was hot but it’s still a bit weird cos it’s, you know…you.” She grimaced.

“Yes, there’s no rush, let’s take it as slow as you need.”

They stood for a moment, taking each other in.

“Freya the friend slayer?” Max laughed.

“Yeah, it turns out I had a contact saved as Ass Face in my phone already,” Britt smirked pulling Max close to watch the rain.