Kathy stands from the table as the waitress, Zoe, brings our food over. “Enjoy, my lovelies. I’ll send some more drinks over in a bit.” She heads off back to the bar as we tuck into the house special, a world burger.
When I can’t possibly eat another thing, I head off to the ladies room, and as I return to our table, I see him; he’s talking to Jackson. I continue walking towards our table, then he turns his head, his eyes meet mine and it’s instant. I don’t know what it is, but something moves inside me very slightly and my step falters. It’s such a minor sensation, but I feel it and I don’t like it; it unnerves me. He stands up straight as I approach, and his eyes don’t leave mine for a second; they are the most amazing ice-blue, almost grey, and I can’t help but hold his gaze. I reach the table and finally look away from him, and down at my chair.
Before I can sit, Jax says, “George, this is Roman Peterson, a good mate of mine and a bloody good singer.” I look back up and he’s still staring at me. I suddenly worry he knows who I am and my heart rate increases marginally. “Roman, this is my cousin, Georgia. She’s come to stay with us for a while, all the way from London.” He puts his hand out to me across the table, and I look down at it for a few moments before taking it.
“How ya going, Georgia? This would be a little bit different to London at this time of year; a bit warmer, too, I bet.” My smile is automatic, not fake, it just automatically appears on my face and I try to tone it down a bit.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cold there right now, and everywhere would be busy with the build-up to Christmas.” He continues to smile, making the corners of his eyes crinkle; his skin is fairly tanned and quite weathered. ‘Rugged’ my mum would call it.
“Yeah, I studied in London for a couple of years, about ten years ago now. Christmas is manic over there. What brings you to Australia?” I realise he still has hold of my hand, so I very gently slide my fingers away. He puts up no resistance.
“She just needed a break away from it all and decided to visit her favourite cousins. She’ll be helping out around here and the surf school, so you’ll probably see her around.” Jackson speaks for me, for which I’m grateful.
Roman’s smile widens and he nods. “Cool, look forward to it, Georgia; nice meeting ya. I need to go set up; don’t want Big John after me on my first night back.” He turns his head to Jackson. “Jax, Em, keep sending the beers over, would ya.” He winks and walks away. I realise after a few seconds that I’ve remained standing, watching him as he jumps up onto the small stage and undoes his guitar case. I flop down into my chair.
“Told ya he was hot, George,” I hear Emily say, but I keep staring at Roman. His hair is blond and long, pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. He’s slim, but not as slim as Sean, and he’s muscular, but not as muscular as Cam. He must be around six-feet tall. Why I’m comparing him to Sean and Cam, I have no idea. Jackson says something from beside me, and I drag my eyes away and look at him.
“What?” I ask. He frowns at me. “What did you say?” I ask.
“I never said a word, darl, not a word.” He smiles and I narrow my eyes.
“You did in your head and I heard it. What’s that look for? What were you thinking?”
He gives a little chuckle. “So, you can read minds now, can you, George?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t say I read your mind. I said I heard it. You were thinking something about me, and you were thinking it so hard that I heard it.”
He shrugs. “Okay, I’ll tell ya what I was thinking, but you’re not gonna like it.”
I stare back at him for a few seconds. Dare I ask, knowing how direct and to the point Jackson is? Dare I ask what he was thinking? I drain the last of the wine from my glass.
“Come on then, tell me, for fuck’s sake; what little analytical observation have you made or think you’ve made?” I feel like a science project at the moment, a case study.
He laughs again. “Just go with it, George; that’s what I was thinking. Don’t fight it; if you’re feeling it, then the time’s right. Don’t fight it and don’t beat yourself up over it. Just let it happen and see where it goes.”
I play with the stem of my wine glass as my eyes fill with tears; I don’t want to hear this. Jackson’s hand shoots across the table and stops mine from worrying the glass any more.