This is my last day—last hour—with her. Next week, my usual schedule resumes and Mila will be in another office.
“You really don’t need me here at all, do you?” I ask her.
“Mel should fire you and hire me.”
“That’ll never get your book finished.”
“Ugh, why did you have to mention that?”
“Push through. I want to read it.”
“That reminds me; I still need to finish that manuscript that made me cry.”
“Are you coming over tonight?”
Her cheeks turn pink, but she doesn’t look away. “That was the plan.”
“I thought so. You spend more time at mine than your parents’.”
“You have all the books. I have one room. My bedroom will only fit three bookcases in it. It’s all very depressing.”
I put my phone down. “Interesting. When do I get to read your books?”
“You want to come up to my room in my parents’ house like we’re fifteen?”
“I really do,” I say with a wide smile.
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re being unfair. You owe me.”
Groaning, she slumps her shoulders. “Fine. One day.”
“Excellent. Now, how much more do you have on that manuscript?”
“Two chapters left. Are you going to delete my comments when you read it next week?”
“No, I’ve seen your notes before. I know they’ll be good.”
“I’d better finish then. Don’t distract me again.”
I raise my palms.
Mila reads for the next forty-five minutes, carefully adding any notes and fixing grammar along the way. I’ve noticed a few things about her when she focuses hard. Firstly, her dark eyebrows pull together so slightly, you wouldn’t be able to tell if you weren’t watching like a creep. Secondly, she rereads parts she really likes at least three times. I’ve watched her trace the curser back over paragraphs. Thirdly, and my favourite, she pulls the expressions she reads from the characters.
I’ve found it difficult not to laugh.
She clicks save before turning to me. “All done.”
“And so are we. Let’s head out. What do you want to eat tonight?”
She picks up her bag then freezes.
I notice my mistake immediately. “You said you were coming over. I assume you’ll want feeding.” I keep my voice light despite my stomach growing heavy.
“What if I want something completely new? Something we don’t know whether we like.”
“Is this a riddle? Move over while I shut down the computer.”
She steps out of my way. “It’s not a riddle.”
“We’ll know if we like it or not once we eat it. What did you have in mind? Cockroach tacos?”
“Ew, no.”
“Do you try to frustrate me?” I ask, watching as the monitor turns off.
Laughing, she shakes her head. “No. It’s Friday. I want us to chill. You never let me help you in the kitchen.”
I grab my phone and slide it into my pocket. The office is almost empty now, but we wave to the remaining few as we leave. “Do you want to go out?”
“No, I want to stay in. Can we order… sushi?” she asks.
“Do you like sushi?”
“I’ve never tried it. Always seemed weird to me.”
“You want to order weird food?”
“And fries.”
I unlock my car. “Sushi with a side of fries it is.”
She turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “You’re not going to put your foot down to that?”
“I like sushi, and I like fries. If you’d said you wanted anything with quinoa, we’d have a problem. Get in the car, Mila.”
While I drive, she stares. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Her expression is unreadable. My guess is that she’s figuring something out.
It takes longer to get home thanks to the Friday traffic, and most of the journey is silent. She’s spent a lot of time in her own head.
“What are you thinking?” I eventually ask as we pull down our road.
“Nothing much.”
I glance at her. “Really?”
“Fine. I was just thinking about how you’re not always easy to figure out.”
“Ditto.”
“You need a little mystery sometimes, right?”
I pull into my drive. “I’d prefer not.” I pass Mila my phone. “Start the order from Just Eat while I make us a drink.”
“Rum?”
I smirk as she takes my phone. “Sure.”
We go inside.
Our evening routine quickly takes shape with Mila having a glass of rum and coke on my sofa, and me pouring through channels until she finds something that doesn’t ‘suck’, only to end up on Netflix.
The takeaway containers sit on my coffee table. Mila’s officially a fan of sushi.
“The uncle killed her, I’ll bet my car on it,” she says.
“No one would want to win that bet.”
“I think you secretly love Hilda.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“You’ve never even been in my car.”
“There’s a reason. It’s ridiculous.”
I smile as her frown deepens. She slumps closer to me on the sofa. Her arm almost touching mine. “You’re a horrible person.”
“You keep coming back.”
“I’m an idiot with a ridiculous car.”
“Acceptance is the first step—” I jump away, laughing when she tries to take a swipe at me.
It takes her thirty minutes to talk again, and it took every ounce of self-control not to laugh. We watch episode after episode, both dozing off here and there, neither of us wanting to put an end to the night, despite the long hours that pass.
I rub my eyes and tap my phone. It’s almost four in the morning. I’ve probably had about three hours of broken sleep.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Mila stands suddenly and folds her arms over her chest. “Take me out.”
“Take you out?”
“Yes, Mr Spontaneous.”
At four in the morning, I’d rather take her to bed. Her eyes are tight and challenging. She doesn’t think I’ll do it. I get the impression that she’s set a few tests up for me, whether she’s doing it consciously or not. I’m nothing like Liam, and she knows it.
I’ll show her who I am and hope that she wants me, too.
“All right, get in the car.”
“I’ll drive Hilda.”
“You’ve had four rum and cokes tonight. Not a chance.”
She frowns again, as if she’s completely forgotten about drinking. “Right. It’s technically morning now, but you’re right. You didn’t have anything.”
“Hence why I’m driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“You asked for this, little adventurer, so you tell me.”
She raises her chin in defiance. “I’ll give you directions.”
“Do you know where to?” I ask, grabbing my keys and wallet.
“I do, actually.”
An hour later, we’re at the fucking beach, chasing the sunrise.
“This beach needs a serious injection of cash but Indie loves it,” Mila says as we stroll down towards the sand. It’s still dark. We’re about fifteen minutes from sunrise.
“I like it.”
“I don’t think it gets very busy, so it’s pretty much a win for her and her famous fiancé.”
The place is completely deserted since it’s only just after five in the morning. “I prefer it like this.”
She takes my hand and pulls me towards the steps. “Me, too. Come on.”
I hold her hand tightly and let her pull me onto the sand.
Mila takes a breath. “It’s so pretty.”
“Can the next thing off your list be after nine a.m.?”
“Sure, just for you,” she replies, swinging my arm as we walk across the sand. “Can’t have yo
u missing your beauty sleep now, can we?”
I squeeze her hand. “What do I look like now? A gargoyle?”
“Oh, I love Quasimodo.”
“Amazing.”
“You don’t look bad, like, ever.”
We come to a stop before the water touches our toes. The crisp air makes her shiver.
Mila looks out to sea. “I want to do this in every country I visit.”
“Watch the sun rise over the sea or get me up at the crack of fucking dawn?”
She laughs. “I might do both.”
“Where are we going next?”
“I don’t mind. Somewhere far away with sandy beaches and endless cocktails.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She sighs as if that will only ever be a fantasy. I’d use every day’s holiday I had to travel the world with her and see that look of wonder on her face.
“We’d need to bring some books,” she says.
“Naturally.”
Deep orange sunlight peeks over the horizon, and I’m suddenly grateful that we’re here. I haven’t watched the sun rise over the ocean before, and I love that I’m doing it with her.
Her hand tugs on mine as she steps closer to the sun.
“We’ve swam in cold water already,” I point out.
She looks back, beaming. “Get your feet in, Reid. It feels so good.”
I do as I’m told.
Twenty-Six
Mila
Reid and I stand with just our feet in the ice-cold water. There’s wet sand between my toes and a man I can’t help dreaming about by my side.
It feels nice against the warmth of the slowly rising sun. Besides, the heat from Reid’s hand is stopping me from truly freezing.
“It’s funny; I know a lot about you… what you read, your job, your favourite food and drink, and your routine…” I say.
“What else do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything, huh? We might be here a while.”
“I could be here forever.”
He pulls me closer and drops his hand to wrap his arm around my back. With a thudding heart, I sink against his side. This is probably the closest we’ve been besides play fighting in the river. Why do we only seem to get close when there’s water involved?
I smile into the distance, my heart content.
“What did you want to be when you were younger?” I ask, laying my head against his chest.
“There was the obligatory astronaut and vet phase. After I turned ten, I knew I wanted to do something within the publishing industry.”
Right, he only started reading then. There was some event that made that happen. The way he avoided my previous question about it shows that there’s more to the story. I’m dying to ask. I would usually come right out and demand that he tells me.
“What about you?” he asks softly, staring at sunrise. His eyes glow, the orange of the sun turning his usually dark eyes a shade closer to mine.
“Stripper.”
His lips curl and his body shakes with gentle laughter.
“I was going to be a pilot,” I tell him. “My parents took me to Gran Canaria when I was five. I was fascinated with the plane.”
They took me abroad a lot while growing up. I’ve seen all of the mainstream, touristy parts of every place we’ve ever been to.
“Interesting. Most kids would say the air steward.”
“Hell no, I wanted to fly the thing.”
“You would probably paint it yellow.”
I nudge him, but I’m too comfortable to really move. The sun rises higher, leaving the sea behind.
“That was worth getting up for,” I whisper.
We’ve pretty much been awake most of the night, though. Reid’s sofa is my new favourite place to sleep.
“Yeah, it was.” He looks down into my eyes, and my heart stills.
I wish I could frame this moment and see that look of pure peace whenever I want.
“Do you have any big regrets?” I ask.
“One.”
“Can I know it?”
I feel him shake his head against mine, and his body stiffens.
“I should get you home,” he says.
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“Breakfast?”
“Is anywhere open?” I ask.
“Does McDonalds ever close?”
He wants to take me for a Maccies early breakfast. He’s definitely not real.
“You need to promise not to judge me for ordering pancakes on the side of my bagel.”
“So long as you don’t judge me for ordering a bacon melt on the side of my muffin,” he counters, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, all right.”
I pull out of his embrace, which is now my most hated thing to do, and I tug his hand. Reid follows me out of the water, and we carry our shoes with us.
I can’t believe Reid has only been in my life for a little under a month. In that time, I’ve grown rather… obsessed. Yeah, I can admit it. He’s the person I look forward to seeing the most. The one I think about as soon as my eyes open in the morning.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind. Will you share?” he asks as we reach his car.
“Absolutely not.” I get inside as soon as he unlocks it.
Reid climbs in and starts the engine. “You once accused me of being evasive.”
“And I was right. If you can do it, I can, too.”
“Ah, that’s how it is.”
I nod. “Totally equal.” I’m never going to accept anything less again.
“All right,” he replies, smirking.
For fuck’s sake, he’s really not going to tell me his thing. I bet I was totally transparent anyway. He probably guessed that I was thinking about him. It’s all that’s in my head at the moment.
“Do you have plans this weekend?” I ask.
“Actually, I do.”
My heart drops.
He’s busy. For how long? I could go see the girls, but I don’t think I can go a whole weekend without spending time with him.
Let’s all say hi to the Reid junkie.
“Cool. Anything nice?” I try so very hard to sound casual, but one glance at his unmoving smirk and I know I’m being anything but that.
“Phoebe is coming over for the day tomorrow.”
Okay, his sister’s visiting. I can work with this. He said Sunday, too, so I can spend all of today with him. “Well, that’s definitely nice. Are her husband and baby coming?”
“No, just her. Callum is taking Lexie to see his parents for the day to give Phoebe some time to herself.”
“Huh. She chooses to come and visit you on her free day.”
He glances at me quickly. “You visit me all the time.”
“I’m not judging the woman, but I would totally head to a spa or take a book and sit in a beer garden. Morning in the spa, and then the pub thing, actually.”
“You know you don’t have a child so could do that any weekend you like, right?”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
“Thanks,” he mutters dryly.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun catching up with your sister.”
“Want to come over, too?”
“I’m sure she just wants to see you alone.”
His grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Mila.”
“Okay, fine. Yeah, I want to come over. I never really spoke to Phoebe.”
“You never really spoke to me, either.”
I grin at him. “But aren’t I making up for that now?”
“You sure are,” he replies with humour in his voice and light in his eyes.
Twenty-Seven
Mila
I stand in Reid’s kitchen with crazy butterflies in my stomach.
Why am I nervous to meet his sister? It’s not like I’ve never seen her before, even if we’ve never spoken.
Reid turns around and slides a latte towards me. He�
��s wearing a little frown that I know has him wondering why I’m on edge.
“Thanks. Shouldn’t she be here?”
“Anytime now, why?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go? She’s visiting you, and she doesn’t even know me.”
“She used to live here, too.”
“That was ages ago.”
“Mila, it’s fine. You’re not in the way. You and Phoebe will get along.”
I sip my latte, feeling very much in the way. I do want to get to know Reid’s family. He’s important, which means they are, too.
The doorbell rings, and I almost jump out of my skin.
My eyes widen when Reid puts his drink down. “Hey, I’ll go out the back door. She’ll never even know I’ve been here,” I tell him.
“You’re aware that you’re not my mistress and my sister isn’t my wife, right?”
Get a hold of yourself, you fucking idiot.
“Well, obviously.” I take a breath and wave my hand. “Let her in then. You’re being rude.”
He double takes, and then goes to open the door.
I hear muffled voices after a moment, and I get up so I’m ready to greet her. Phoebe always seemed cool, though she’s older than me so we never hung out.
Phoebe walks ahead of Reid, smiling when she sees me, as if we’re long lost friends. “Mila, hi.”
She has the same shade of dark brown hair as Reid, only hers has highlights through it. His eyes are darker, too. I love his eyes.
“Hey, Phoebe. How’s it going?” I ask.
“Good. Reid tells me you’ve been working with him.”
“Well, it’s more like him working with me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s like.”
“Hey, I prevented you from reading so much shit when you opened submissions, mister. Do you know how many writers out there think they’re the next Stephen King? Too many.”
“You write as well, don’t you? Have you submitted to Reid?” Phoebe asks.
“I do, but hell no. My stuff isn’t to his taste anyway, but I don’t think I could take him seriously now.”
“What does that mean?” he asks, frowning.
I hold my fist out and raise the first finger. “I know you don’t like romance.” Another finger. “I know you prefer it when there isn’t a happy ever after. I know you can’t edit every round on a screen. I know—”
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