She sighs, rolling onto her back.
I can’t stop myself. My arm moves as if she is demanding it. My fingertips gently glide across her skin, burning at the physical contact. I caress her collarbone and neck. My stomach coils with the need to taste her.
“Mila,” I say again, my voice thick with lust. I picture my mouth where my hand is, licking and sucking.
Her head tilts backwards, giving me more access to her neck.
Christ, she needs to wake up.
Stop, you fucking creep!
I retract my hand and curl my fingers into my palm. Damn it, I can’t touch her in her sleep.
Her eyes flicker open, and she takes a deep breath. “Reid,” she whispers.
I clear my throat. “Morning.”
She sits up, her fingers brushing over the path mine just travelled. “We fell asleep watching serial killers.”
“It’s seven. How long do you need to get ready?”
She groans. “My mum is going to say so much this morning.”
“About the walk of shame you’re about to take?”
“Can I shower here and borrow your clothes? I’m never going home.”
“Fine by me.”
She sits forwards, running her hands through her hair. “We’re working together from today.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to be nice?” she asks, and I shake my head. “Should’ve guessed. I’m not being your PA, Reid.”
I stand. “Let me make you a coffee and you can go get ready. I’ll drive today.”
She follows me through to the kitchen. “I don’t have time to drink a coffee. Unless you want me to turn up at the office looking like this?”
“What’s wrong with how you look now?”
“Really,” she mutters.
“I have a travel mug. I’ll send you on your way with a latte.”
“Are you the perfect man?”
I look over my shoulder. “Yeah. We had a vote, and I won.”
“Funny.”
She watches while I make her coffee, leaning against the counter with her arms folded. Too often, her gaze drifts to me. It reminds me of last night when she watched me cook. The kitchen was thick with tension. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Uh-huh. Are you?”
“Yes.”
The way she asked that is like she’s asking an entirely different question. I can see it in her eyes. She wants to know what this morning was about. I’ve never touched her like that before. She hasn’t told me to keep my hands to myself, so she can’t be pissed off about it. Mila would absolutely say if she didn’t like something.
I finish the drink and hand it to her. She wraps both hands around it, her eyes never leaving mine as she breathes out a, “Thanks.”
“I guess I should go and get ready,” she says.
“I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.”
“You don’t have to drive me.”
“I want to. Thirty minutes, Mila.”
Her eyes widen before she spins and dashes out, shouting, “Thirty fucking minutes isn’t enough!”
I laugh, hearing the front door slam.
She’ll probably curse me the entire time she’s showering and getting dressed.
I down a quick coffee, shower, and I dress in dark jeans and a casual shirt.
When I’m ready, I still have ten minutes left.
I can imagine her running around her room, yanking clothes off their hangers and blow-drying her hair with gritted teeth.
Last night was the first time she’s stayed over. We slept together… on my sofa. It’s not quite how I pictured it, but I know tomorrow is going to suck when I wake up alone.
With three minutes to spare, I get in my car and pull up outside her house.
A heartbeat later, Mila walks out. Her hair is tied up neatly, and she’s wearing a navy dress that sits just above her knee. It clings to her body.
Today is going to be a long one.
“Hey.” She gets in and closes the door. Leaning back in the seat, she sighs as if it’s a relief to be back. “I was going to wash your travel mug and bring it back, but you gave me thirty minutes to get ready, so you’ll have to wait until after work for that.”
I pull out onto the road. “Morning, Mila.”
“You said that earlier.”
“Did your mum say anything?”
“She said everything. Made me promise we’re being careful.”
“You told her we’re having sex?”
“No! But she didn’t believe me. She thinks we’re going at it.”
Great.
She laughs, while I try not to panic or crash the car. “Don’t worry, my mum is cool. She knows I’m an adult and that adults have sex. Growing up, I thought it was so embarrassing that she was open about everything. I think I was the only toddler she knew saying penis and vagina because she never covered anything with softer words or half-truths.”
“Do you still find it embarrassing?”
“Depends on the situation.”
“You’re quite open, too.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely her fault.”
We make it to the office on time, and Mila follows me into mine. Mila’s chair sits at my desk. Mel must have moved it here from her space.
“Morning, guys. Meeting in an hour, Reid,” Mel says.
I nod. She tells me this every Monday and Friday morning, except for Monday when Mila started. We’ve had those meetings almost every week for the last three years. Not once have I forgotten.
Mila waves, and then Mel is off.
Mila spins around and grabs my wrist, her big eyes bulging. “What’s with her? Is the meeting bad? Is it about me? I’ve done something wrong.”
I nod sympathetically. “Yes, she thinks you’re shit and wants to know the best way to fire you.”
She folds her arms and fires daggers from her eyes.
“It happens every week. We missed Mondays this week because you were starting. It’s the reason I can’t work from home on Mondays and Fridays.”
“You have a lot of meetings here.”
“Tell me about it.” I sit down, and Mila does the same. Her posture relaxes now that she knows the meeting isn’t about her.
“Mel wants to make sure we’re all on the same page and that no one is walking around here wondering what’s going on.”
“I do that most of the time,” she says.
I fire up the desktop. “Not really. You’ve only been here four days, and you’re already someone others rely on. Didn’t Ruby ask you to proof that novella yesterday?”
She moves her chair closer and leans across to see the screen. “Yeah. It was fine. I only found one issue.”
Her reply comes easy, as if our close proximity isn’t affecting her at all.
“Did you like it?”
“You read it and hated it, didn’t you?”
I open the word doc we’ll be working on today. “Why do you say that?”
“I’ve grown accustomed to your tones and what they mean.”
“Have you now?”
“What did you think of it?”
“I’m not a fan of romance.”
“That’s your nice way of saying you think it’s shit.”
“No, that’s—”
“It’s fine. I think it’s shit, too. I’ll make us a coffee. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the caffeine in the world, working with you for the next six days.”
I watch her walk out of my office with a smile on my face.
Twenty-Four
Mila
I check my phone while the coffee beans grind. I’m waiting on a text from Indie about wedding cakes. She wanted my opinion because Spencer keeps telling her to do what she wants. Wren is going to insist on a chocolate cake. I think she should have five layers with five different flavoured sponges.
Their wedding is coming up scarily fast, and there’s still a bit to do
, but Indie isn’t worried because she just wants to marry Spencer. The rest of it is just noise.
There’s a text, but it isn’t from Indie asking about cake or bridesmaid dresses.
It’s from Liam.
That wipes the smile right off my face. What is he doing? We’re not supposed to reach out until next year.
With my heart pounding, I open the message.
Liam: I know this is basically illegal, but I couldn’t help myself. I want to know how you are.
Well.
What. A. Dick.
He’s breaking his own bloody rule. This isn’t supposed to happen. I know with a certainty I feel deep in my bones that I will never run back into his arms. But is Liam starting to have second thoughts about our breakup?
Should I reply?
Hell… no.
“Sorry, I didn’t stop to chat before,” Mel says.
I startle, almost dropping my phone. I spin around to see Mel laughing.
She places her hand on her heart. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“God. You almost killed me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah—was just in another world.” I slide my phone into the pocket of the best dress ever. Liam’s text will go unanswered. “Would you like a coffee?”
“No, thanks, I’ve had three this morning. Are you sitting in today?”
“Sorry?”
“The meeting?”
I gasp. “I can?”
“Of course. I love your enthusiasm, by the way. My meetings usually get a collective groan now.”
“Reid said you have two a week.”
She nods. “I’ve worked in places where only a select few are clued in. It doesn’t make for a successful work environment. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to Reid. I’m sure he’s dying to start with you.”
She walks away wearing a shit eating grin.
Well, that had a double meaning.
I can see how it looks. Reid and I spend a lot of time together… and this morning was different. He woke me up with his hand gliding over my skin. When I opened my eyes, I thought he was going to pounce. But he didn’t. I was too shocked and, I’ll admit, turned on to do anything.
I grab our drinks and walk back to his office with my phone burning a hole in my pocket.
Reid is staring at his screen when I reach his door. His lips are pressed together, head tilted slightly to the side in concentration.
I almost stumble at the sight of him. That’d be right. My first week and I drop coffee, smash mugs, stain carpets, and probably scald myself in the process.
But I don’t. I make it to the desk like a pro.
Reid looks up and stills. His eyes bore into mine with a hunger that almost makes me drop the coffees for a second time.
I put the drinks down and sit, trying to act like he’s not making me hot all over.
“I hope this is to your liking, coffee snob.”
“I’ll drink it to be polite.”
“Dick. What are we doing then?”
“We have thirty minutes before the meeting. You’re going to reply to Faye Brook. She’s a good author but struggling with her latest manuscript. She’s sent the synopsis. Have a read. We’ll chat about development then get back to her.”
I shuffle in my seat, getting comfortable, and I lean over to turn the monitor towards me.
Reid’s earthy aftershave washes over me, and I hold my breath until I sit back again.
He’s so close. Why does this office feel so much smaller than Mel’s when they’re all the same size? Our chairs are almost touching. I should scoot away but then I won’t be able to see. He could move… but he’s not.
I swallow and look at the attachment he opens, with my heart flying in my chest.
I never thought a Friday would drag, but sitting next to Reid made time go in reverse. It was maddening to smell him and listen to his voice. At one point, I thought I was going to jump him in the office and finally get myself fired.
Now, thankfully, I’m in a bar with my girls.
Indie and Wren both have a glass of wine. I opted for rum and coke, pretending it’s not because I have it at Reid’s. Yeah, I really need this girl time.
“So, you’re both still okay for the bridesmaid dress appointment? It’s cutting it so last minute, and if you can’t make it I don’t—”
“Breathe, girl. We’ll be there,” I say, stopping her from going on before her face turns red. “We’ll get it done.”
She blows out a breath. “Okay. The cake is taken care of now, so I’m almost there. Anyway, tell us how the work experience is going.”
“With the sexy editor,” Wren adds.
“I came here wanting to forget about him for a while.”
Wren’s blonde eyebrows shoot up. “And why is that?”
Indie adds, “How often do you think about him?”
My obvious mistake was thinking they wouldn’t soak this up.
I shrug a shoulder and take a sip of my rum, wishing I’d gone for a double. “We’re just together a lot and it’s messing with my brain.”
“Brain or vagina?” Wren asks.
I laugh, and it quickly turns to a fake cry. “Help me. Things are getting weird but not, like, weird-weird in the sense that we’re… weird or awkward.”
They’re wearing identical WTF expressions.
“I slept over last night and nothing happened. We were on the sofa—calm down. I woke up to him stroking my arm and neck. Nothing has ever felt that erotic before. After all those years and all that sex with Liam, and Reid almost makes me come with the lightest touch on my arm. What is that about?”
Wren holds her hand up. “All right, back up. I have questions.”
I roll my eyes. “Go on.”
“Let’s start with the sleeping over thing,” Indie says, sipping her wine.
“We were watching serial killers on Netflix, and we fell asleep. I was at one end of the sofa, he was at the other.”
Wren’s shoulders slump.
“Sorry, there’s no juicier gossip for you.”
“Not true,” Indie says. “You were hot and bothered over this stroking thing.”
I take a breath. My skin still tingles where he touched me every time I think about it. “Yeah, that. It felt so erotic, especially when his fingers skated over my neck.”
“Oh, Mila,” Wren says, whistling. “You’ve got it bad, girl.”
“It’s not been like that. We’ve stayed strictly in the friendzone. It’s just that in the last few days...” Probably longer, let’s face it. “I guess, there’s been flirting. I just go to his house now as if I fucking live there. I turned up on his doorstep and waited. His actual doorstep! That’s not even an exaggeration. He got home from the gym, and I was there. We spent the evening together, he made us dinner, and we fell asleep in front of the TV. It was a Liam night without the pizza, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be. What is that?”
“The routine wasn’t the issue with Liam. The person was,” Indie says, as if it’s obvious.
Wren nods. “Me and Brody do pretty much the same things through the week, and I’m never bored.”
“But… the same thing.”
Wren pats my arm. “The same thing doesn’t feel so monotonous when you’re with the right person, babe. The days are similar, but the conversation isn’t. Or the sex.”
Indie pouts. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of monotony.”
“Spence isn’t going back to LA for a while, right?”
“No, thank God. What are you going to do about Reid?” Indie asks.
“Nothing.”
Wren slaps her palm against my head. “You all right?”
I bat her hand away. “I’m fine. I’m absolutely not doing the chasing again.”
“You want Reid to come to you?”
“No. Yes. Stop asking hard questions. It’s too soon for anything like that after Liam.”
“Is it, though?” Indie asks.
“Maybe. Look, I’m fin
ally standing on my own two feet, or at least I will be when I’ve finished uni and move out. My point is, I’m handling my shit now. I like how my life is going, and I’m not ready to jump into another relationship. And it has nothing to do with Liam.”
I still haven’t told them about his text. I was going to, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. They will worry that I might get back with him. I don’t want them to look at me with their pretty wide eyes and ask what’s going on with him.
“No feelings left there?” Wren asks.
“Romantically, no.”
“You’re not ready to date?”
“I… well, yes, but I don’t think I could just date Reid. He’s not the type of person you walk away from. Have you seen all his books? His abs? That muscular back and—”
“We get it,” Indie says, laughing. “I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who would plan your whole life and stick to one known road, though. The man travels. That means he gets restless, too.”
I swig my rum. “He’s at least seen places. I’m restless and still haven’t moved.”
“Yet, girl!” Wren says, shaking her head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. No one else is living your life. You’re the one who decides what you do and when you do it. If you want to live with your parents until you’re forty, that’s no one else’s fucking business.”
“I really don’t.”
“My point being, you’re the one running the Mila show.” She wiggles her brows. “And I have a feeling it’s about to get X-rated.”
Groaning, I drain the last of the rum.
Heaven help me.
Twenty-Five
Reid
Mila is reading the manuscript with a smile on her face. All week, we’ve worked on Faye’s book. The first half, anyway, since she’s struggling with the last.
It’s great having her here. She’s completely competent, and I’ve barely had to do a thing. I’m being paid to stare at the woman I love. This is, without exception, the best week I’ve ever had at work.
I lean back and check my emails on my phone since I’m not getting near the desktop for a while. We only have an hour left, anyway.
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