Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price

July

Hero knows when Margaret suggests shots that it is a mistake, but tonight feels like a night for making mistakes. She is finished with exams and has submitted all her coursework for the year, now she is home for the summer and, as Margaret tells her, she deserves to let her hair down. The vodka burns through her throat, making a bonfire of all the things she would rather not remember.

"Celebrating?" A voice asks.

"Forgetting," she answers, downing another of the little glasses. She turns, licking salt from her lips and goes still.

It could be the alcohol, but the man leaning against the bar is the hottest man she has ever seen. With eyes as black as sin, sleek raven locks, a jaw set to cut, and a mouth crooked like a promise, he looks like a devil; the embodiment of some wicked, secret desire. Something tugs in her mind, but her thoughts are distracted, wondering how his trim beard would feel under her fingers.

"Whoever you're trying to forget, he's an idiot."

"I need time to discover myself," Claudio's words splinter through her head.

"He is," she mutters and takes another shot.

The stranger tilts his head, eyes studying her. Goosebumps breakout across her skin. "Can I… assist in your forgetting?"

She considers the handsome stranger, the world rippling around them in watercolour. Here is the thing, Hero never flirts with strangers in bars or anywhere else for that matter. Until recently she was in a long-term committed relationship and had been since she was fifteen. But that's over now and if Margaret weren't busy making-out with Borachio, her on-off flame and the bartender (much to the consternation of those waiting to be served) she would probably tell Hero to get some.

Her tongue darts across her lips, they taste of lime and bad decisions. "What did you have in mind?"

She dances with him, bodies moving together under the pulse of the strobe lights. He presses his chest to her back, his hands encircling her waist, sliding over the curves of her swaying hips. She feels her blood turn electric, nerves a tangle of livewires. Sparks shiver through her marrow as he leans in and drags his mouth along her neck. She feels bold and sexy. When Claudio dumped her, she wanted to crawl out of her bones, but now under this stranger's touch she feels like someone to be desired, at least for a little while.

She turns to face him, her fingers fanning over his beard. Claudio's one attempt at a beard was terrible and it didn't last long. This man has a nice beard; it is coarse beneath her fingers and she wonders what it would feel like if she kissed him. So she does.

She catches him off-guard, arms wrapping around his shoulders, her mouth slotting over his, but he recovers fast. His hands tighten on her hips, kissing her with a zeal that makes her teeth rattle, the tingle of spices through her tongue. She clings to him, fingers latching in his hair, and deepens the kiss. Amongst the shadows of the bar, their bodies meld together. His beard burns like satisfaction.

:-x-:

A week later, Hero is still thinking about the stranger from The Ducat. She is not sure she didn't dream the whole encounter, she has certainly dreamt of it since. She has never done that before and though it wasn't more than fevered kisses in a darkened bar, her cheeks burn to remember it, imagining what could have happened if she had been braver…

"Earth to Hero!" A hand waves in-front of her and she startles from touches in the dark to brilliant, blistering sunlight.

"You zoned out again," Beatrice says. "I hope you weren't thinking about Clau-dicko. He's not worth your time."

"Especially when there are far hotter men to ogle right in-front of us," Margaret declares, motioning ahead.

She is not wrong. A heatwave has hit Messina Cove and more than half the town and its tourists are at the beach, spread across the golden sands. Children run and screech, splashing in the shallows and building sandcastles. People sprawl across towels and under parasols. Laughter rolls in with the waves as swimmers paddle in the sea; bikini-clad women and bare-chested men strut around, carrying inflatables and surfboards.

"I'm not looking for another relationship," Hero protests, drawing her knees to her chest.

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Margaret grins. "Just have fun, it doesn't need to be serious."

Hero's thoughts return again to the stranger at the bar and her face warms. Margaret has an idea that something happened while she was making-out with Borachio but Hero hasn't been forthcoming with the details. Beatrice doesn't know anything, having only returned from university a few days ago. Since her break-up with Claudio, Margaret has been encouraging Hero to get out there and meet someone new for a meaningless fling. Hero isn't sure if revealing that she kissed a stranger would appease her friend or encourage her further. But that is not something she is ready to share, even with her closest friends.

"What you need…" Margaret drapes her arm around Hero and already she doesn't like where this is going. "...is a truly mind-blowing fuck to wipe Claudio from your brain."

Hero's face burns and she scrambles to her feet. "Who wants ice cream?"

Beatrice agrees to remain with their stuff while the other two set-off for the ice cream van. Fortunately, Margaret switches the conversation to their favourite baking show and Hero's face no longer feels like it is on fire.

After waiting in the queue, Hero and Margaret are on their return, cones in hand, when someone bellows, "MARGIE!"

Margaret whips around as a hulking mass comes barrelling towards her and sweeps her up into his arms. "BORACHIO!"

Hero hovers on the sidelines.

"You ladies going for a swim?" Borachio asks, openly leering at Margaret in her bikini.

"Maybe later," Margaret replies with a vixen's grin and a toss of her voluminous curls. "Ice cream first."

Hero feels the ice creams begin to trickle, sweet and sticky, over her hands. She licks her own, trying to minimise the melting.

"Well let me know, I'll swim out with you, keep you safe from sharks."

"You're the only shark in these waters, Borachio," someone new grouses.

"Conrade! Mate!" Borachio chuckles. "I thought we were friends!"

"Against my better judgement."

Hero darts a glance across at the newcomer and goes rigid. Standing next to Borachio and Conrade is the man she kissed at The Ducat.

Lightning surges through her veins, threatening a cardiac arrest. He is gorgeous and shirtless, water dripping from his sculpted chest; his swim trunks cling to his thighs looking like a god who has strode from the sea. Under the sun's loving touch, he is even more handsome than he was in the bar and her heart bah-dumps in her chest, skin turning hot. He watches her with those pitch black eyes, devouring her as night does the day. She realises she is next to naked in front of him, wearing nothing but her bikini and fights the inexplicable urge to cover herself, feeling the trickle of ice cream down her wrist, helpless to do anything.

"Hero and I better get Beatrice's ice cream to her before it's soup," Margaret says, stepping into Hero's side.

She is distracted by the way the stranger's expression falters; eyes widening, his focus on her intensifying.

"The spitfire's with you? Hey, maybe the six of us can have a match of something," Borachio suggests.

Something niggles at the back of Hero's mind. If only her brain wasn't so fried from the shock.

"I'd rather not run around in the hot sun, thank you," Conrade gripes.

"Why even come to the beach if you weren't going to have fun! John, you're with me?"

John…

John.

Hero stares at her stranger and sees someone else.

The first-time Claudio broke-up with her, they had still been in school. He had been told some vicious lies about her cheating on him and, for some unfathomable reason, he believed them. It had been the worst month of her life, shouts of slut and whore followed her through the halls. Most of the unpleasantness died down after Claudio realised the truth and took her back, but cruel whispers still dogged her until graduation.

Those rumours had been started by John Aragon, renowned delinquent and half-brother to Claudio's friend, Pedro. Being a couple of years above her, she had known him by bad reputation alone but it hadn't stopped him targeting her over a grudge with Claudio that she never understood. She had never received any acknowledgement from John regarding the harm he caused her. She used to imagine what it would be like running into him again, finally confronting him for the torment he put her through. It never occurred to her that she might meet him in a bar someday, neither of them recognising the other and…

Oh God.

That is John Aragon standing before her. It was John Aragon she made-out with at the bar, whom she had almost gone home with.

Oh fuck.

Her ice cream drops from her hand.

:-x-:

If finding out that her tongue had been down John Aragon's throat was a nasty surprise, her day becomes infinitely worse when she returns to their spot (having practically sprinted there), intending to thrust the remaining ice cream into Beatrice's hand then dig a hole to bury herself in, only to find her cousin in conversation with none other than Pedro Aragon and their friend, Ben. A short distance from them, flirting with a trio of girls that look barely out of school, is her ex-boyfriend, Claudio.

On second thoughts, Hero is going to march straight into the sea and drown herself.

"Is everyone at the beach today?" Margaret exclaims, strolling onto the scene, and Hero can see from the collection of shadows cast across the sand that she is not alone.

"If I'd known this would be a school reunion, I never would have come," Conrade mutters and Hero silently agrees.

"Hero!" Ben's face splits in a grin and before she knows what is happening he has swung an arm around her. "You'll be on my team, right?"

All eyes turn to her; among them she feels the simmer of John's attention, the scorch of Claudio's gaze. Sweat beads on her brow, the sun blistering upon her.

"W-w-w-what?"

"We're gathering players for a Rounders match," Pedro explains.

"I'm going to be captaining the winning team," Ben informs her proudly.

"Oh please," Beatrice snorts. "You'd steer them onto the rocks."

Ben glares. "I hope you like the taste of your words, for you will be eating them shortly."

"Oh, I will eat. But you, I know, will have no appetite after your crushing defeat."

"What would you know? You don't know the first thing about working as a team!"

Beatrice's eyes blaze. "As if there would be room for anyone else between you and your ego!"

"Okaayyy." Pedro puts an arm between them, chuckling. "I think we have our captains. Let's set-up the pitch and sort out teams."

Beatrice accepts her half-melted ice cream from Hero, biting into the cone furiously. "That arrogant prick. I'll show him."

Beatrice and Ben's rivalry is longstanding, dating back to when they were children and a playtime gone wrong. But now Hero senses something more than the usual bickering behind their exchange. If she wasn't so frazzled by her own drama, she might be able to puzzle it out.

A chorus of giggles has her looking again at Claudio and the three women he has hanging on his every word. Her teeth grind together, inhaling through the ache like a broken rib.

The break-up had blindsided her. She had been dating Claudio since she was fifteen and he was sixteen; he was the only boyfriend she has ever had. They attended the same university and were living together, the plan was for them to continue to do so after she graduated. She thought they were planning a life together until Claudio turned around and told her he needed space. She spent the weeks afterwards listening to Heartbreak Playlists and crying her eyes out. Now all their friends from school are here to witness her humiliation as Claudio relishes in his newfound bachelorhood.

"Ignore him," a voice mutters next to her and she whirls to face John. "He's not worth a thought."

"Y-Y-You!"

She expected John to leave. His relationship with his half-brother was fraught in school and from the looks of them that hasn't improved. Plus, he despises Claudio and has never been fond of the rest of Pedro's friends. She can't think of a reason that would compel him to stay; Conrade certainly seems eager to go, though Borachio is keen, sticking with Margaret. Maybe it's the sibling rivalry?

John arches a brow, leaning into her. "Is this a conversation you want to have now?"

Hero's stomach quivers, glancing at the people around them and lowers her voice. "Are we pretending like… like nothing happened?"

"I'll leave that to you to decide."

Her brow knits at these cryptic words.

"The pitch is ready!" Ben shouts, drawing everyone's attention. "Everyone fall in! Time to pick teams."

As the chosen captains, Beatrice and Ben square off. Frank, who has been chosen to act as referee, performs the coin toss to decide who picks first. Beatrice wins.

"Get used to losing," she tells Ben with a toss of her curls and calls out, "Pedro."

A good first choice. Back in school, Pedro was known for being a top athlete and an excellent motivational speaker. Rarely did any team he was part of lose a match. The only person here possibly more skilled than him is Claudio. It is certain Ben will pick him next, for his skill and because they are best friends. She expects she will be among the last chosen. As much as Beatrice loves her, she knows Hero's limitations. She will want to secure the more capable players first. Hero doesn't begrudge her this and has her attention turned watching a seagull. So Ben has to call her name twice before she reacts.

She whips around, wide-eyed as everyone stares at her. "Me?"

Ben nods, motioning for her to join him. He shoots a smug grin at Beatrice and Hero assumes this is another attempt to get under her cousin's skin. Beatrice's mouth tugs down, gaze narrowing. Hero's stomach folds as she moves to stand with Ben, feeling like a pawn caught in a chess match.

"Big mistake, man," Claudio remarks to Hero's consternation. They both know how hopeless she is with a bat but there is no need to say as much in public.

If Ben is regretting his rash decision, he hides it well, smiling at her. "Welcome to the winning team."

Beatrice's eyes sweep over the remaining players. Pedro is saying something to her and Hero can guess what it is from the look of disgruntlement that crosses her cousin's face. Beatrice glances in her direction then forms her resolution, calling out with a scowl, "Claudio."

Ben makes a sound of irritation, but he must have seen this coming. Hero sighs, relieved she won't have to deal with Claudio being on the same team as her.

"Told you," Claudio tells Ben as he joins the other team. As much as Hero doesn't like it, Claudio is right; Ben made a bad choice in picking her first, there are far better players.

Speaking of. She winds a lock of hair around her finger and whispers to Ben, "Pick John next."

He glances at her, frowning. "That bast—" He catches himself. "Umm… he's hardly a team player."

Hero has memories from supporting Claudio at matches; John was as capable and dangerous on a pitch as his brother, if aggressive. "He will want to beat Pedro."

Ben considers, then shrugs. "Alright. John!"

There is a small ripple of surprise but John's expression remains neutral as he joins their team.

He stands beside Hero. "Was this your idea?"

She tucks her hair behind her ear and tries not to turn to liquid at his proximity. "We need every advantage to compensate for my uselessness."

"Imagine the ball is Claudio's face, that's worked for me in the past."

Hero surprises herself with a laugh.

Names keep being called until everyone is sorted into a team. Beatrice finishes with Pedro, Claudio, their friends Dumaine, Logan, and Bart, as well as Kitty and Maria, two of the girls who had been giggling over Claudio. Hero's own team consists of Ben, John, Margaret, Borachio, Conrade, another school chum of Claudio's called Berowne, and Rosaline, the friend of the other girls.

Beatrice's team bats first. Unsurprisingly, Claudio and Pedro send their balls soaring, completing full rounders long before it is returned. Beatrice too makes some impressive strikes, more empowered by Ben's goading than rattled by him. By the end of their batting, Beatrice's team has gained a substantial lead. As they change over, Ben assures his team of their victory. Hero wishes she could share his confidence.

They line-up in alphabetical order, Hero finds herself between Conrade and John. They start strong with Ben, Berowne, and Borachio each scoring half or full rounders. Conrade scores no points on his turn, barely tapping the ball, and Hero is relieved she isn't the only one to struggle with sport.

When she steps forward, bat in hand, Claudio winks at her from his position as bowler, his grin cocksure. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

Her blood blazes but before she can react Claudio throws the ball. She swings —

— and misses. She stares, unmoving.

"RUN!" Ben cries.

Hero reacts, dropping the bat and sprinting for first base. She barely makes it in time as Bart throws the ball to the awaiting Maria. Ahead, Conrade has made it to second base. Her stomach squeezes, ashamed; she has just proven to everyone how worthless she is.

John steps up next, bat ready, his expression focused. Claudio narrows his gaze, adjusting his stance now that he is faced with an actual threat. He throws hard. John strikes. The bat hits the ball with a loud thwack, sending it sailing. Hero is transfixed, watching its trajectory, and doesn't remember to run until John shouts, hurtling towards her. She spins on her heel and races to second base, then to third. The other team scrambles, screaming for the ball. She skids beyond fourth base, John panting down her neck.

Their team explodes into cheers, surrounding him. Ben goes as far as to slap him on the back and quickly retreats as John snarls.

Hero opens her mouth to offer her own congratulations but Rosaline beats her to it, "Nice batting."

Hero closes her mouth.

Ben pats her shoulder as she passes. "Good thinking, Hero. Make them underestimate you, then catch them off guard next turn."

She winces, his faith in her making her failure all the worse. She slinks to the back of the line, collecting her water bottle and taking a gulp. She notices the shadow as it appears next to her own and turns to face John. He doesn't speak and the fluttering in her stomach intensifies. He is more than a head taller than her and it is a struggle not to stare at his bare chest.

She holds out the bottle, her mouth dry despite having just had a drink. "Would you like some water?"

"Thanks." He accepts the bottle, his fingers grazing hers, and raises it to his lips.

She watches as he drinks, her eyes drawn to his throat. She remembers how her fingers traced along it, feeling the tremor of his pulse.

He lowers the bottle and her gaze darts to the sand before he can catch her gawking. "You were gr-great out there."

"I'm not going to let that smug asshole win."

Hero lifts her gaze to meet his own. "Claudio?"

"Don't let him get in your head."

She wraps one arm around herself and sighs. "Easier said than done."

John looks speculative for a moment, then a gleam appears in his eyes and her heart skips. He hands her the water bottle. "Hold this. Pretend it's the bat."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to give you some pointers. Face towards the pitch."

As bewildered as she is, she obeys. On the pitch, Ben and Beatrice are arguing over whether he was in or not as an anxious Frank tries to mediate. She jumps as she feels a touch at her elbow like an electric shock.

"Lift your arms higher. You need a firm grip." He steps into her and Hero stiffens. His hands rest on her arms, easing them higher. "Adjust your hold like this."

She is frozen, heart battering against her chest. She thinks she has swallowed her tongue.

"Relax," he murmurs into her ear, one of his hands rising to her shoulder. "You want to be loose, it will help with the swing."

"No ball!" She hears Frank call far in the distance.

She is not at the beach, but back at The Ducat, John pressed against her, hands roving her body.

"No ball!" Frank shouts again. "Half a rounder to Ben's team."

John's lips brush her ear. "I don't think he likes the taste of his own medicine."

It takes a moment for his words to make it through the static of her brain and the wires connect. He is doing this to get under Claudio's skin. To her amazement, it appears to be working. Claudio curses, kicking up sand, before returning to bowl, his face twisted in a scowl.

She feels a frisson of annoyance with John, for initiating this without consulting her, and with Claudio, for acting jealous when he was the one who dumped her. Not to mention, his flirting with other women right in front of her.

She adjusts her stance and presses into John so his chest is flush against her back. "You mean… like this?"

"Now you're getting it." She hears the smirk in his voice.

She is tempted to elbow him in the balls but decides she doesn't want to cripple their best player. She endeavours not to think about his crotch pressing into her backside or what she can feel there and mimes taking a swing.

"Better. But you want your movements to be fluid." His hands encircle her wrists, guiding her arms. "Flow into the strike, like this."

He steers her through the swing. She fights to stay focused, tries not to think about the fact that they are both half-naked, his skin against her skin, or lose herself to memories of that night at the bar, the things that followed the last time they were this close. She swings again, rolling her hips.

His fingers sear her skin as they spread across her bare waist, his voice a croon in her ear. "Good. Just like that."

Her toes curl in the sand thinking she might boil to death if her blood gets any hotter.

"Ahem," a polite cough interrupts them. Margaret regards them with a cattish grin. "If you're finished with your lesson… it is Hero's turn to bat."

Hero notices everyone is staring at them. She squeaks, springing from John and hurrying forwards to collect the actual bat, certain she is as red as a lobster. Claudio looks thunderous and for a second she feels a curdle of fear. Then she recalls her previous irritation and readies her stance like John showed her.

Claudio launches the ball. Hero swings, feeling the bat connect. She sees the ball go bouncing along the sand and breaks into a run. She passes first, daring for second. There is shouting and she risks a glance behind, almost stumbling; a dog has gotten a hold of her ball and is racing off with it as the fielders give chase.

"KEEP GOING!" John shouts and she does.

She hears her team cheering her name. She makes it past third. Claudio is screaming. His teammates are still trying to catch the dog. Hero dashes past fourth into Margaret's waiting arms. Her friend jumps them up and down, shrieking her excitement.

Ben scoops her up next, swinging her around. "Our Hero of the match!" He laughs. "I knew you would show them!"

"That doesn't count!" Claudio squawks. "The dog — it's cheating!"

He is ignored.

Hero stumbles from Ben and finds herself in front of John. She smiles, butterflies forgotten with the rush of adrenaline, and tucks a curl behind her ear. "Thank you. Your advice paid off."

"I'm not the real-life Disney Princess who can enchant animals to her aid." He winks and her pulse leaps.

He is called to bat before they can say anything more. A slobbered-over ball is handed to Pedro who has taken over as bowler, Claudio needing time to cool-off. The brothers regard each other, tension crackling. Pedro throws the ball. John sends it soaring into the sea.

The two teams remain neck-and-neck for the whole of the match, Beatrice's team maintaining a narrow lead. There are no more animal interventions on Hero's behalf but she is satisfied she makes a respectable showing. There is some commotion when a strike from Beatrice sends the ball directly into Ben's groin, but even with a crippled captain a surprise hit from Margaret propels them into the lead. When Frank announces the final scores it is Ben's team who has won.

Beatrice's mouth shrivels as Ben punches the air, recovered enough from his injury to hug his team. "WE DID IT! DIDN'T I TELL YOU WE WOULD!" He jabs a finger at Beatrice. "IN YOUR FACE, DARLING! EVERYONE, DRINKS ARE ON ME!"

:-x-:

Hero sucks on the straw of her cocktail, half-listening as Pedro tells them about his upcoming boys' trip, and staring across to the other table where Rosaline laughs at whatever John just said, leaning into him. They are seated in Revellers bar situated on the beachfront. Already the place is packed with people coming in after a long day on the beach. Hero isn't out of place in her simple sundress, but she wishes she could have showered and scrubbed the sand from her pores before coming here.

True to his promise, Ben has bought drinks for the whole team, the pack of them taking over three tables, ordering food as well. Most of the other team has joined them, but to Hero's relief Claudio is not among them, never a graceful loser. Beatrice stays too but keeps a distance between her and Ben, who in his cheer is more insufferable than usual. Hero sticks loyally beside her cousin but finds herself glancing frequently across at the other table where John is sitting with Conrade, Borachio, and Margaret. And Rosaline.

Is it necessary for the other woman to sit that close to him?

Hero drains her cocktail and orders another. She is glad when, after she finishes her second, Margaret pounces on her, dragging her and Beatrice onto the dancefloor. Hero laughs, letting herself be swept up in the music, ebullience effusing her veins as the three of them twirl together, arms swinging, hips swaying, her cares melting away in the technicolour lights. Dancing with her friends, she feels self-assured, hands in her hair, heart beating in-time with the rhythm, restless and free.

Someone bumps into her and she looks around. She notices the others have joined them and now her friends are in pairs, Margaret with Borachio, unable to keep their hands off each other, and Beatrice with Pedro more restrained but laughing together. Kitty is dancing with Dumaine and Maria with Logan. Even Ben has found himself a partner though she seems to be growing bored with his efforts to shout over the music.

Hero falters in her dancing, that hollowing sensation of being alone in a crowd sweeping over her. She keeps searching. Revellers has filled-up since their arrival but as if sensing her aim the crowd parts and she glimpses John leant against a post as Rosaline closes the space between them, her hands on his chest. The crowd swallows them again but Hero's heart has plummeted into the pit of her stomach.

She plunges through the crowd, weaving her way to the bar. It doesn't take her long to be served, at least she has that going for her. She sits on a barstool, sipping her third cocktail of the night and in her head curses all men.

As if the universe is playing a cruel joke on her, she hears an overconfident voice sound next to her. "What's a cutie like you doing drinking alone?"

She ignores him, pretending to be absorbed in her drink, but then he rests his hand on her barstool, very near to her behind, and she tenses, stomach pulling inside-out.

"Hey, sweetheart, you should spend less time in your head or you'll miss it when your dream guy is standing right in front of you."

Hero has little experience with these situations. When she was dating Claudio, she rarely went out without him. He scared off anyone who approached her, even the innocent ones from her course. On the occasions he wasn't around, she was usually with Beatrice who could castrate a man with a glance. When she has been cornered on her own, she usually fumbles with her words, trying to extract herself without being rude, until someone comes to her rescue. Now, however, she is put in mind of the last man who approached her in a bar and how he is currently getting better acquainted with another woman after his hands were all-over her earlier that afternoon.

Suddenly, Hero is incensed and she turns on the stranger. "I'm not interested."

The stranger is taken aback. He looks as if he could be around the same age as John, perhaps older. He is nowhere near as handsome and thinking about how handsome John is irritates her more.

"Hey, come on now, babe, don't be like that. A face as pretty as yours shouldn't be spoiled with a scowl. I bet you'd like me better if you gave me a chance."

She clamps down on the guilt his injured tone induces and tries to channel Beatrice through her glare. "I'd like to be left alone, please."

She castigates herself for the please.

The man chuckles and her skin crawls. "God, you look like an angel but you sure are a brat."

He runs his hand along her back, squeezing her ass.

She leaps from her stool. "Don't touch me!"

She makes to escape, pushing through the crowd, but hears him following her. "Learn to take a compliment, fucking bi—ACK!"

Hero turns to see John has caught the stranger's arm and is bending it backwards. "Leave. Her. Alone."

"AH—AH—OKAY, OKAY!" John releases him and the stranger goes scurrying backwards. "Maybe don't leave your girl unattended if you don't want other men approaching her. Jeeze!"

"I'm not his girl!" Hero snaps but the stranger is gone.

John steps towards her. "You alright?"

The question infuriates her and she stalks from him, ducking into the corridor that leads to the toilets.

John follows after her. "Hero?"

"I'm fine." She snaps. "You didn't need to intervene."

She hears John stop and turns to look at him. His face is impassive, the faintest furrow in his brow. "I see. I'll leave you alone."

He turns to go. Hero advances on him. "How dare you!"

He pauses, the furrow in his brow deepening. "Excuse me?"

"You kissed me. The other night at the bar, you kissed me! "

"Is that what you're upset about? I didn't recognise you. If I had…"

"You wouldn't have kissed me?" Hero demands, humiliation blazing into indignation.

"Would you have kissed me?"

"I didn't know it was you!"

"You do now." His gaze darkens like a winter sky. "Don't worry, I won't do it again."

"No. That's clear!"

John frowns but turns to leave.

She isn't finished with him. "Is this how you operate? You kissed me! Flirted with me to piss off Claudio! Now you've moved on to Rosaline!"

John turns back to her slowly, his expression disbelieving. "Are you… jealous?"

"Of course not!"

He arches his eyebrows, fixing her with a considering look. "I think… you're drunk."

OOOH. How dare he! HOW DARE HE!

"I am not drunk! I am sick of men treating women like — like things, as if we're not — not real people with — with feelings You! Claudio! That creep at the bar! I'm sick of all of you!"

"Hero… I'm going to get Beatrice."

She hates how gentle his voice is. She crosses the distance between them, fists bunching in his shirt and she shoves him against the wall. "You're the worst! I hate you!"

Then she slams her mouth onto his.

Her anger evaporates, floating on sunset rays of mellow pink, lavender blue, and golden tulle. His lips are soft under her own and she kisses them with the intent to bruise.

Someone bumps into her and Hero jolts from John, eyes widening. He stares at her, looking stunned, as if — as if he has just been shoved against a wall and forcibly kissed.

She recoils in horror, all those cocktails churning in her stomach. She thinks she is going to be sick, but she doesn't dash for the toilets, instead diving back into the crowded bar. She pushes through the bodies, frantically searching. As soon as she spots Beatrice, she runs to her, grabbing her cousin's arm.

"Please can we go now."

Beatrice breaks from her argument with Ben, takes one look at her and nods. "I'm done here anyway."

Ben protests but Beatrice ignores him. They find Margaret sucking face with Borachio and agree she won't need a ride home. Hero is anxious to leave before John comes looking for her. Unless he is too disgusted to come near her again.

Safe in the car, Beatrice asks her what happened. Hero explains about the creep at the bar but omits any mention of John.

"I'm sorry, sweet. I should have stayed with you."

Hero reassures her and diverts the conversation, asking about Ben. As her cousin launches into a tirade, Hero leans her head against the window and watches the lights of Messina Cove pass. She sees again John's stricken face and wants to slither down the drain. She hopes the rest of the summer is not so cruel.