Gravity by Scot Gardner

arm’s length. ‘Pants? And shoes!’
    I nodded.
    â€˜You did all right.’
    My skin tingled and I wondered where Jeremy was. Bonnie danced and before long I was dancing with her. From the neck down. She moved tantalisingly close and ran her hands over my chest then span away. The flirting went on and it added a welcome heat to the confusion in me. Whatdid Bonnie want? Wasn’t she with Jeremy? It was all happening so fast and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The mini and the lace-up calf-high boots definitely weren’t country, but they were steamingly hot on her.
    We drank and danced until Harry let his woman go long enough to introduce me to her: Nadia. Nadia and Bonnie headed to the toilet together and Harry slapped my back.
    â€˜We’re heading off,’ he said. ‘You going to be okay?’
    I nodded and raised my glass. ‘Thanks. I really needed tonight, hey.’
    He smiled and danced at the bar until the girls returned. He hugged Bonnie and kissed her goodbye. Then, with his arm on my shoulder, he kissed my cheek. He was still smiling as he left and I rubbed where his stubble had scratched my face. Then Bonnie was under my arm, hot and soft. She slipped her hand inside the waistband of my jeans, inside my boxers and dug her nails into the flesh of my bum.
    I jumped and stared at her, open-mouthed, half shocked, half delighted.
    She drew me into a proper hug, her free hand locked around my neck, bodies exchanging heat.
    â€˜I think I’m just about ready to go, too,’ she said.
    â€˜I’ve got . . . my car’s outside.’
    â€˜Okay,’ she said.
    She hung on tight as we stepped into the car park. It had been raining and we giggle-jogged together to Bully’s Subaru.
    â€˜This is it?’ she said.
    â€˜Um . . . yeah.’
    â€˜There aren’t any spiders in there, are there?’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’
    I opened the passenger door for her and she had a good long look before lowering herself into the seat. I let myself in the driver’s door, started the engine – first try – and cranked the heater to the max.
    â€˜What are you doing? You can’t drive,’ she said. ‘There are cops everywhere.’
    â€˜No. No, I was just starting the car to run the heater.’
    She crossed her arms.
    I swallowed. My head was swimming. ‘We could jump in the back.’
    She took a tiny phone from her skirt pocket. ‘I had fun, Adam. Great night.’
    â€˜The swag’s comfortable.’
    She laughed. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

Eleven
    My brain felt bruised when I woke on Saturday morning. The disorientation forced me to focus and I was fully awake by the time I worked out that I’d slept in Harry’s clothes, in the Subaru, alone, at the back of the nightclub. It was early but there were cars parking around me. I needed to piss.
    Emergency.
    I patted my hair and slipped on Harry’s dress shoes. I could see that the cars parked around me weren’t all recent arrivals. Some were still there on nightclub business – utes with damp swags in the back and station wagons with fogged windows. I followed a family over the road to a grassy park that had been transformed into a market while I’d slept. I dashed past the trestle tables and food vans to the red brick toilets. I bent at the urinal and tried hard not to moan with pleasure as the waves of relief washed through me.
    Something bumped my leg. A kid, scarcely taller than my kneecap, stood beside me. He had his pants pushed around his ankles and he sighed as his stream hit the stainless steel. He looked up and smiled.
    I shuffled to give him some more room and smiled back. ‘Bet that’s better.’
    He nodded.
    The kid shook himself before he’d quite finished and I felt drips hit the leg of my pants. Harry’s pants.
    And I didn’t care.
    Wasn’t the first time I’d been caught in the splash