Free Reverb by Lisa Swallow

wheel. “Shit, you’re funny! Well, I enjoyed it anyway.”
    He doesn’t elaborate on ‘it’ – the evening or the kiss?
    “It was different,” I say, relieved at the cool air coming through the open window.
    “Shame we can’t do this again sometime. I’m away and then I’m touring. I’m back in the UK late March, if you want to catch up?”
    Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Three months is a long time to wait for a second date.”
    “True. Oh, well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
    “I don’t think the odds are in our favour, no.”
    Bryn takes my face in both hands, his huge palms covering most of my cheeks. “Shame. I like you, despite the fact you poured soup on me as an excuse to get into my pants when we first met.”
    “Ha-Ha.”
    I attempt to move my head but I can’t; instead, I wrinkle my nose at him.
    “Anyway…” Bryn places his lips on mine, briefly, before looking back at me with a softness I find strange. I could do it. I could kiss this man. Again. My heart bangs against my chest, but the giddy reaction I had to his kiss last night won’t override the nausea. I pull back and he lets my head go.
    “Take care of yourself, cariad.”
    “You too.”
    Bryn hugs me again, his jacket cool against my cheek. This is weird and getting stranger.
    “Right.” I extricate myself and open the door. “Bye, Bryn.”
    As I climb out, he blows me a kiss. I stagger to the path leading to my parents’ two-storey house, glad the snow has been cleared.
    “Don’t forget to tell everyone!” he calls through his now open car window.
    I pause and look back. “About what?”
    “About Bryn Hughes giving you a Screaming Orgasm!”
    His voice carries across the street and I look around. Nobody else is outside apart from Mrs Peters scraping ice from her car, three houses down and who I hope didn’t hear.
    “Oh, my God!” I yell. Without thinking, I grab a handful of snow, teeter back to the car, and before he gets a chance to say anything else I pull his T-shirt forward and shove the snow down his chest.
    Bryn catches the snow and throws it out of the window before catching my arm. “Still trying to get my clothes off?”
    “No! God, Bryn, please. Stop.”
    “That’s not what you were saying last night!” he says loudly and waves at someone behind me.
    I take a sideways look at a middle-aged man walking his snow-covered poodle.
    “You’re not funny!” I hiss, distracted by the way the damp patch from the snow defines his chest. Yes, definitely a good job I passed out last night.
    “Ah, but you love me really.” He catches my wandering look and raises an eyebrow. “The offer’s always open, cariad.”
    Bryn’s red BMW pulls away and travels slowly along the street while I stare in disbelief. What the hell just happened? – Then, last night, the wedding – pulled into Bryn’s life for a little over a day, and I have memories that will last a lifetime. I doubt I’ll ever see him again, in March, or anytime. A knot of disappointment joins the nausea as I walk into the house and close the door on the weirdest night of my life with the strangest man. Strange because Bryn Hughes is the opposite of anything I expect from a stratospherically famous rock star, and everything I want a man to be. 

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    BRYN
     
    Christmas, a time of year for family, and don't I bloody know it. For weeks leading up to the day, Mum calls and hassles me about going home. I always do and I expect I always will. Apart from one Christmas, about five years ago, I missed out because I was overseas. Luckily, the heat of the States took away from the Christmas feeling, but an odd emptiness I never expected took its place.
    Three days after my weird night out with the strange girl, who I can't shake from my mind, and I'm here on Christmas Eve. My three older sisters are spread around the country with their husbands and kids, but my youngest, Tegan, still lives at home. She finished her A levels, took a year