I push my plate to the side. I can’t possibly fit anything more in if I’m going to enjoy another of those sweet, tangy drinks. My cheeks feel flushed from the alcohol and I’m starting to relax a little when Malakai, our hottie bartender, appears by my side.

“How was your meal, gorgeous?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“It...it was good. Thank you,” I reply, shyly tucking a flyaway hair behind my ear. Why must he speak to me, can’t I be invisible like I’ve always been with Randall? Seen not heard, that’s what he expected of me.

Malakai winks at me. “Sing out when you're ready for your next drink.”

“I think he's got a thing for you,” Missy says as he walks away.

“Oh, please! He's clearly trying to make me feel more comfortable, you know, given I'm not good at hiding my out-of-this-world discomfort.”

“You should feel good,” she says, goading me. “You're free, starting again, dressed in my sexy wardrobe, and you've met a local hottie! Plus you're having your first margarita. Things are looking up, baby.” She raises her glass to mine in a toast. I’m pretty sure she is hoping that all her words of encouragement will eventually take hold and I will feel something other than lost. Something more than fear.

It does feel damn good to know I’ve made a step in the direction of freedom though. I’m just not sure if I would ever have the balls to walk in here without her. She is my security blanket and I will only have her with me a few more days.

Missy is good at reading my mind and places her bank card in front of me. “Go order another few drinks.”

My eyes widen in horror. Fear settles in my gut. Before I can say a word, she continues, “Once I'm gone, you'll have to do this on your own, Callie. Each step you take toward claiming back your life, the closer you are to true freedom and finding yourself again.”

I know she’s right, but I’m not ready. I can see what Missy is doing, and I appreciate her efforts but it’s going to take more than a few days in a car to regain my self-worth, establish some confidence and attempt to put my past behind me. I won’t reclaim my life overnight. My heart pounds in my chest as the realisation dawns on me. I can’t do this.

“Callie, breathe.” Missy covers my hand with hers and gives it a subtle squeeze as she realises that I am not okay. The pity I see in her eyes quickly dissipates and encouragingly she adds, “You can do this. It’s just a drink order. Think of it like going to the supermarket checkout to pay for your groceries.”

I wait until nobody is standing at the bar. I hear a wolf whistle as I move slowly and deliberately toward the dark oak counter. A myriad of different colour liquors, bottles and glasses lining the shelves behind it. I blush without even knowing if I was the one being whistled at.

I’m pathetic.

I make it without tripping up, and I mentally pat myself on the back. I smile internally at the ridiculousness of the situation. I am almost thirty years old, and a few guys in leather and patches make me cringe. Being seen is nothing short of humiliating. Being noticed is not something I’ve ever experienced.

“Sounds like you have an admirer,” Kai announces. I watch him for a moment as he wipes down the stainless-steel bench in front of him then reaches for two more cocktail glasses.

“Two more of the same?” he asks as if he knows the answer.

“Please.” I smile.

He stops for a second and watches me. At a guess, I’d say he is younger than me by a few years. Definitely outgoing, flirtatious and his two-day growth around his jawline makes my legs quiver in an unusual way.

What the hell?

For years my only thoughts of a man involved fear, escape and gut-wrenching misery. Now I’m standing in a bar, weak at the knees, lusting over a bartender.

Lust — is it possible that’s what I’m feeling? A sudden attraction so soon after leaving Randall?

“That smile looks good on you,” he says seriously before one of his own spreads across his face. Is he flirting with me?

For years I’ve remained emotionally detached. Sex hadn’t been pleasurable for most of our marriage. It was more like a filthy chore; one I detested. My attraction to Randall died so long ago that I even forget how it felt when we first started dating.

I simply stare at Malakai. Words are stuck in my throat as I try to process the way my body is reacting. I turn back to look for Missy, but she is engrossed in conversation with some local girls playing pool.

“So, what's your story, Callie? What brought you to Coomera?” Malakai tries to make small talk as he mixes our drinks.

Fuck.

“A new start, I guess.” I distract myself, running the tips of my fingers over the rubber bar mat.

“You living with your friend over there?” he asks with a pinch of a frown, possibly frustrated at my lack of conversational skills.

“No, Missy lives on the Sunshine Coast,” I tell him. “She's just helping me settle in.” I glance around the room taking in the other men and cross my arms across my chest; it’s an old defensive stance. Protecting myself from any lingering looks.

“Well, I'm a born and bred local, moved away for a few years but recently returned, so maybe I can help get you acquainted with the area. What do you think?”

“Um, thank you. That—”

“Sounds awesome! Thank you, Kai.” Missy barrels into the conversation to save me from any further humiliation. “Where's a good place to look at furnishings for the new place?”

“Depends on what you're looking for exactly,” he advises, placing our drinks on the bar. I’m too quick to reach for my glass and my finger grazes Kai’s slightly. Heat spreads like wildfire up my arm at our inadvertent touch and I supress a shudder. He smirks knowingly at me, while waiting for an answer. Only I can’t remember the question.

I sip my margarita and tap the card to pay before I remember and reply, “I left with pretty much my clothes and a few personal items, so anything and everything I guess. The place is partly furnished. I have a bed, fridge and washing machine, but not much else.”

His eyes narrow at my admission as if he is thinking of what to say next. “Why don't you let me pick you both up tomorrow morning and I'll show you around. We can do some shopping.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Missy answers for us, but his eyes are stuck on me.

I smile at him. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” My anxiety takes hold, we don’t know this guy and he works in a biker bar for fuck’s sake, not the kind of company I want to keep. “I’m not sure that’s necessary though...” I start to say when Missy clutches my upper arm in a death grip. Reflexes kick in and my arm jerks out of her grip, fear is rampant within, threatening to bubble to the surface. Immediately, Missy realises her mistake, silently her eyes plead for my forgiveness. She moves closer and wraps her arm lovingly around my waist.

Embarrassed by my reaction, I swallow back the tears which threaten to pool in my eyes and the lump ascending from my gut which is now lodged uncomfortably in my throat.

“Perhaps after we’ve gotten to know you a little better?” Missy explains. Kai nods, distracted, probably confused somewhat by my reaction and Missy’s sudden change in attitude.

We move back to our seats as a crowd begins to gather at the bar. Kai needs to serve, not just flirt with the newbies. Missy introduces me to Becca and her friend Josie, who are playing pool, badly, but they are having fun. I try to forget what just happened and the impending feelings of doom that have begun to fill the pit of my stomach.

“We should play a game of pool,” Missy whispers, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. She is excited by her suggestion. I gulp back another mouthful of margarita and shake my head a little too enthusiastically. Missy slumps slightly on her stool across from me and I feel awful for making her feel uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry, Callie, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Missy, really. I wasn’t thinking,” I tell her, trying to shrug it off.

“Clearly neither was I. My only thought was a hot guy offering to help you out and get to know you. I can’t stand the idea of leaving you here all alone without knowing anybody. I was being selfish. I worry, you know that.”

I understand Missy worries about me. She always has. Very few things in life get to her, but her concern for me and my relationship with Randall has always been hard for her to deal with. I know she’s doing what she can to stay extra positive and upbeat about this whole situation. She just doesn’t realise she’s pushing me too hard, too fast.

“I know you meant well, honey, but I need to take this at my own pace,” I explain softly and she nods.

“So how about that game of pool with these girls then?” she asks again, nodding her head in their direction. Their laughter draws me in. They’re having way too much fun and part of me wants in on the action. The other part is cemented to my stool listening to the devil on my shoulder telling me I don’t know how to have fun; I don’t deserve it. Missy watches my mind tick over, desperately trying to push aside all my feelings of doubt.

“Okay, let's do it.” I need to know I can even if every fibre of my being is telling me I can’t, or I shouldn’t. The smile Missy gives me is worth the effort. God, I love her. What the fuck would I do without her in my life? Most likely I’d be dead in a ditch. Without her waiting in the wings for me, encouraging me with her weekly phone calls, I would have given up, given in to Randall and let him end my suffering. Deep down, I always knew I’d make a run for it and do my best to make a life for myself without him.

If only it hadn’t taken me so damn long.

Missy breaks and coloured balls scatter across the green felt. She hands me the cue and I momentarily close my eyes, mustering up the courage to take my shot. Firstly, I take another long sip of my margarita.

I take it back. Becca and Josie are talented pool players. I, on the other hand, have no hand-eye coordination it seems. The game looks easy enough, point and shoot. Except aiming was the key, and I was shit out of luck with that.

Almost an hour passes and we are still playing the same game. Yes, that’s how bad we are. Thankfully, the bar has emptied out, and there are only a few tattooed bikers in the corner, minding their own business. Outside, another few were riding out. The ground beneath my feet vibrates as their Harleys leave the lot. If I’m being honest, it sends a thrill through me.

I was past tipsy now, but only on my third drink. I’m a complete novice at this drinking game and my pool game is worse, but I convince myself the natural sway of my body will help me pocket the ball I’m aiming for. Stretched out over the pool table, I feel my shirt rise away from the waistband of my jeans. Heat scorches my sides and electricity fires through my body as hands brace either side of me. Skin to skin. My body jolts in surprise, but oddly, fear doesn’t follow. Instead, my body hums under his touch. I can’t say why, but I didn’t have to look to know whose hands were touching me. If I wasn’t slightly intoxicated, I know I would be overthinking all of this and possibly end up freaking out. No, I would definitely freak out. There’s something about his touch that’s different. His hands are a little rough, but the way he touches me is soothing. A sense of calm washes over me.

My body simmers beneath him. It’s an odd feeling and a strange realisation. Normally a man’s touch would make my skin bristle, but not with Kai. His touch warms my insides and satisfies the depths of my fear. “Let me help you out with this one,” he says smoothly, slightly shifting my hips and changing the position of my cue. Oddly, I relax into his body outstretched over mine, his touch gentle but purposeful. Pinned between him and the pool table, the last thing on my mind now is playing pool.

Hell, I can’t even think straight. I’m not even sure I am still breathing.

With precision, he pulls the cue back, his hand now placed over mine and he guides me to take the shot.

“Holy shit, it went in!” I scream, jumping around like a crazy person. In all my excitement, I throw my arms around Kai's neck without thinking. He returns the hug, lifting me off the ground. When he puts me down, I quickly pull back, embarrassed at my show of affection. Terrified at what he must think of me.

Perhaps tequila in a strange place for the first time was a bad idea. I’m not feeling myself at all. Yet, I love the easy going, carefree feeling it gives me.

Soon after my outburst of affection, we give up on our half-finished game and leave. It is time to unpack the groceries and get some much-needed sleep in my new bed.