He nods at my chest. ‘One of those girls felt milkier.’
Milkier?What does he mean—one of my breasts is bigger than the other?
A second after that thought registers, my stomach plummets and then convulses into a painful twist. Is Lindsay saying that one of my breasts has a lump in it?
My throat fills with dust, and I spin around to face the ice cream truck, using my free hand to quickly cup one of my breasts and then the other, lifting and squeezing. I don’t feel anything remotely like a lump, which relaxes the sudden spike of tension in my body.Thank god. Lindsay barely touched themandhe’s tipsy, so his perception must be off. Still, the comment has stolen the rest of my appetite.
I step towards the rubbish bin when a blast of cold liquid smacks me right in the chest, sending me stumbling back. My ice cream splatters at my feet, and I stare open-mouthed at my soaked dress.What the hell?
‘Dude!’ Zac snaps at a spotty-faced kid clutching a hose a few metres away. ‘What did you just do?’
‘Shiiiit, babe, your dress is see-through,’ Lindsay says to me while the hose-kid stammers as he explains to Zac that he was just trying to wash the camel dung off the path.
Lindsay also caught some of the water, and he uses his T-shirt to wipe himself down rather than offering it to me to cover myself with.
Meghan gapes at my now-transparent dress and turns away from me with a huff like I did this on purpose.Seriously, Meghan? You think I planned to have this sopping-wet material glued to my body so that everyone can see my underwear?
The hose-kid paces towards me to apologise, with a frowning Zac chasing after him. I assure the poor kid I’m fine and cross my arms over myself, hovering in the direct sun so I can start to dry off. ‘I think this is my cue to bail,’ I say to our little group.
Zac’s gaze flickers down and up my body for a split second. ‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’
The four of us begin a path towards the exit, passing a cluster of teenage boys whose wide eyes zero in on my visible nipples.
Zac glowers at them, then stops to pinch the neck of his T-shirt. He tugs it over his head and hands it to me. ‘Here. Put this on.’
Feeling Meghan’s stare, I thank him and pull the giant T-shirt over my head, closing my arms around it like it’s the most comforting thing on earth. It’s silky-soft and smells divine.
Lindsay rolls his eyes at Zac’s chest. ‘Oh, come on, man,’ he scoffs like he hasn’t spent the last hour shirtless himself.
‘Every guy here is gawking at your girlfriend like she’s their wet dream, so I decided to do something about it,’ Zac says tersely before taking Meghan’s hand.
I have no trouble believing Zac. He’s never been the type to covet attention, no matter how good he looks. I’m more bothered by the fact that it was him who helped me out rather than the guy I’m dating.
Lindsay drapes an arm around me. ‘Come to my place?’
Up ahead, Zac drops his lips into Meghan’s neck while she squeezes him goodbye. When she heads off to her car, he calls out to me. ‘Want a ride home, Jose?’
I look up at Lindsay, my reluctant expression mostly staged. ‘I think I’m just going to go home. I need to get changed.’
His hands glide around my waist. ‘I’ll get you clean and dry, princess. Whatever you need. I’ve got you.’
I stretch on my toes to plant a kiss on his nose, making a vague promise to meet up with him this week.
*
After a takeaway dinner and a hot shower, I hover behind the couch, rubbing my hair dry with a towel. Zac’s changed into a light-blue T-shirt and loose shorts and sits watching his beautiful girlfriend read the news like a seasoned pro while Trouble snoozes in his lap.
‘She’s really good,’ I admit, and he lifts his head to look at me.
‘So are you. That’ll be you one day.’
‘Thank you.’ I return his soft smile.
I don’t entirely believe him, but his support gives me the confidence to flop beside him and watch the remainder of the bulletin. When a closing story about the Newcastle Show appears, and the camera pans past the hose-kid watering the lawn, we share a look and crack up.
The credits roll, and I jiggle my fingers through my damp hair. ‘Do you mind if I change the channel?’
‘Sure. Or pull up something on Netflix if you want.’ Zac holds out the remote, and when I reach for it, he whisks it behind his back.
