Read My Mind

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Read My Mind Page 20

by Natasha Preston


  “I suppose. At the time, I thought it was everything. I’m not saying that it wasn’t real or we weren’t capable of those emotions but…”

  Her eyebrows pull into a frown, showing her impatience. “But?”

  “She wasn’t the right one. I couldn’t get lost in her.”

  “That’s what you want?” she whispers.

  “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Next weekend. Are you… Do you want to come to my parents’ house? Phoebe and Callum will be there with Lexie.”

  “Your birthday.” She bites her lip. “You want me to come?”

  “Sure. It’s just for one night.”

  “All right,” she says, and her hands land on my chest, stealing my breath.

  “Mila…”

  Her hands glide down to my belt.

  “I like talking to you, Reid. I like that you always have something to say. I like that you listen to me, and you’re interested in what I have to say, too. Most of all, I love the way you worship my body with your hands and mouth. And when you push inside of me—”

  Her mouth lands on mine and, fuck, I’m lost.

  Thirty-Seven

  Reid

  I know Mila has told her friends that we’ve slept together, but I don’t know if there’s anything else. Have they spoken about how she feels or what she wants? Neither of them look remotely surprised to see her hanging off my arm.

  The bar is quiet for a Friday night, but there’s a new club opening in town, so it could be that. Either way, I’m happy that I can still hear and flirt unashamedly with Mila without feeling like I’m a pensioner.

  Tomorrow, we’re off to my parents’ for my birthday weekend. I don’t know how she’ll be with me there.

  She places her hand on my chest. “Drink up, nerd. I want you good and drunk. You’re almost twenty-five!”

  I raise my brow. “Nerd again?”

  Her big eyes widen. “It’s really sexy.”

  “Would you like me to get some glasses? Black frames?”

  Her lips part. “Yes, please.”

  “How cliché, Mila. I thought you had a better imagination than that.”

  “Hey, you suggested it.”

  “I thought you’d come back with something else.”

  “Well, aren’t you a little game player?” She leans forward and presses her chest to mine. “I have a much better game for you.”

  I wrap my hands around her back, resting just above her arse. “What’s that?”

  “We can play ‘who can get away with the most inappropriate act’.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s exactly as it sounds, Reid.”

  “Rules?”

  She brushes her lips against mine, and a low moan rumbles from my throat. “Loser is the winners bitch for a day. Loser is the one who gets us caught.”

  “Christ, Mila. I’ll lose right now. Let’s go back to mine.”

  “Are we done?” Wren asks, laughing behind her blue cocktail. Mila has the same one and it tastes awful.

  Mila’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “Yes, all done, Wren. For now.”

  I pull Mila to the table we’re standing near, and we sit with Wren and Brody.

  Brody is smirking at Mila when she sits down. I want to know what that’s about, but I can probably guess.

  She narrows her eyes at him, and I know they’ve spoken about me.

  “It’s so nice to do this when Mila isn’t the third, sometimes fifth wheel,” Wren says.

  “Thanks, babe.”

  I don’t want to mention Liam’s name, but I do want to know why he never went out with them.

  “You have to admit that it’s more fun.”

  “Yes, fine. We all know it’s better this way.”

  Is she talking about the fact that she’s not alone or that she’s with me and not Liam? I wish they would be clearer.

  “I can’t imagine you as an extra anything,” I tell her. “Besides dramatic, maybe.”

  “Ha ha, Reid.”

  Wren and Brody laugh for real.

  “I hate all of you,” Mila say, sipping her cocktail.

  “Erm, Mila?” Wren says, looking at something over Mila’s shoulder.

  We all turn. I look back at Mila just in time to see her reaction to Liam being in the same bar.

  Her eyes narrow a fraction, like she’s annoyed to see him here.

  “Do you want to go?” Wren asks.

  “Hell no. I’m not leaving. It’s fine. We’re bound to run into each other at some point, right? I’ll say hi if he comes over, but we’re here to have fun and get me drunk.”

  “He’s coming over,” Brody says, arching his eyebrow at me, as though to tell me we’re in solidarity. I don’t think we’re going to be fighting. And if we were, I wouldn’t need backup with Liam. Still, I appreciate that Brody would take my side.

  Mila groans and mumbles under her breath, “It hasn’t been a year, dipshit.”

  She stands and turns around just as he approaches. “Hi, Liam.”

  He smiles and stops just a smidge too close. “Mila, it’s good to see you. Really good.”

  I roll my eyes, and Wren laughs at me.

  “Yeah,” Mila replies, not shooting that sentiment back. “You here with the gang?”

  The way she asks that is almost teasing. Like they actually refer to themselves as ‘the gang’ and she finds it amusing.

  “Erm, not tonight. I’m actually on a date.”

  Now I turn. I can only see Mila’s profile, but she doesn’t flinch. In fact, she looks pleased, and perhaps a little relieved.

  “Yeah? Good for you. Though, if I can give you some advice, it might not be the coolest thing to chat to the ex during your date. Girls kinda hate that.”

  He shakes his head. “Right. I’m new to this.”

  Mila doesn’t have a poker face, so the pursed lips and wide eyes hide nothing.

  “Well, don’t screw this up. Go, go! Enjoy your evening.”

  His eyes tighten. “All right. Bye, Mila.”

  “Bye.” She waves Liam off and sits down.

  I can see from her expression that she is ready to explode.

  It takes two seconds.

  “Who the fuck approaches their ex for a chat on a date? What is wrong with the guy? She must feel really shitty watching him walk off to speak to another woman. I hope she throws her drink on him. Inconsiderate fool,” she rants.

  “You good?” I ask.

  Her head turns slowly—slow enough that I sense danger.

  “Am I okay? Seriously?”

  I raise my palms. “All right, you’re fine.”

  She looks at Wren. “Men are stupid today.”

  “As if he came over,” Wren says. “I can’t see them well enough to lip read but the date is looking our way.”

  “Subtle,” Mila mutters. “If there’s drama tonight, I’m not holding back on the kebab later.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m trying to be good but if that chick causes any drama, I’m having one.” She picks up her drink. “Maybe I’ll go over there and start something. I fancy a chicken kebab.”

  “Mila, eat what you want,” I tell her.

  “You don’t understand. I need a reason, because if there’s a reason, the calories don’t count. Like, I can eat what I want next weekend because it’s your birthday.”

  “The reason can’t just be because you want to eat it?”

  “That’s right,” she confirms. “Calories, remember.”

  “What?”

  “Let me stop you right there, man,” Brody says, slapping his hand on the table in front of me. “What you’re doing right now, trying to understand the breed with the boobs, is never going to happen. They make the rules up as they go, and they can change them in an instant. Smile and nod, mate.”

  Mila grins and leans closer to me. “Smile, nod, and kiss me.”

  I do just that, but I feel dag
gers in my back from the ex the whole time my mouth is connected to hers.

  Thirty-Eight

  Mila

  As we drive to Reid’s parents’ house, I contemplate throwing myself out of the car. Christmas songs are playing on the radio since we’ve just dipped into December, but they’re not making me feel jolly.

  What was I thinking when I said I would spend the weekend with his family?

  Reid is chilled, leaning back in his seat with one hand on the steering wheel and the other draped on his thigh. There’s a loose smile on his lips. He looks at peace. Meanwhile, I’m sitting dead straight and chewing my manicured nails to the quick.

  His whole family will be at this meal tonight. Parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece. For once, I need to let my brain do the thinking before my mouth does the talking.

  At least I know Phoebe, and she seemed to like me.

  It’ll be fine. If they don’t like me then it’s tough. I’m sure Reid won’t stop talking to me just because his parents don’t want him to.

  “What’s going on over there?” Reid asks.

  I tear my eyes away from the satnav that I made him put on. I need to see how long we have to go: eleven bloody minutes.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re scowling.”

  “People drive like shit.”

  “There are two other cars ahead, Mila, and they’re nowhere near us.”

  I waft my hand. “Well… they’ll probably drive like shit soon.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “You’re kind of a dick sometimes, you know?”

  “They’re going to like you.”

  “Of course, they’re going to like me.”

  “There’s no need for the freak out, then.”

  “I am not freaking out.”

  He smirks. “Tell me, have you ever broken any bones?”

  “What?”

  “I want to know.”

  “Four. My leg, arm, and my wrist… twice.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Leg was proving to my brothers that I could jump over a wall the same height as them. Spoiler alert, I couldn’t. The arm was going over the handlebars of my bike, and my wrist was a trampoline, and then I did it again. How about you?”

  “All my bones are intact. Just a sprained wrist.”

  “Yes, your bones really are.”

  He rolls his eyes, grinning. “What family traditions do you have?”

  “On Christmas Eve we bake gingerbread men and decorate them. Still, even now. We always have two cakes on our birthdays.”

  “Why?”

  “Because two cakes are better than one.”

  He dips his head. “Of course.”

  “And Easter egg hunts. Blue eggs for Hugo, red for Archie, and—”

  “Yellow for you,” he guesses.

  “Yep. I had a stage where I went pink for a while, but by the age of seven it was yellow all the way. You do the weird golf thing you hate, right?”

  “Yeah. We walk a lot on birthdays and at Christmas. Dad has to carve the turkey at the table, and we have to drink one glass of Bucks Fizz in the morning, despite the fact that no one particularly likes it.”

  “You have too many traditions you don’t like.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh God.” My eyes widen as I realise that I only have my overnight bag and alcohol with me. “Maybe I should have bought your mum flowers.”

  “Mila,” he groans. “They will love you. And don’t you have three bottles of wine?”

  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “Right. That wine is for them.”

  Reid shakes his head. “My mum is going to want to keep you. My dad will like you no matter what. You’ve already met Phoebe.”

  He probably thinks I’m a total loser for worrying about this. “Reid?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are we staying in separate rooms?”

  “I believe my mum’s set up the second spare room for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t for one second think that I won’t sneak into that room and make you come, though.”

  I brighten at his words. Turning my head in his direction, I smile wider. “Will you sneak back out in the morning? I really want to watch you do the walk of shame.”

  “I could just tell her that we’ll share.”

  “No, don’t. Come on, let me have my fun. I’ve never had a guy sneak out of my room before.”

  He arches his brow.

  “All right, you did once. Fuck, that was hot.”

  His lip curls at the side. “Yeah, it was.”

  “For a second, I thought I was being kidnapped. Then I saw you and I was instantly turned on.”

  “Mila.”

  His voice is a warning. He still needs to focus on driving for another nine minutes. I snap my teeth together, so I don’t say anything else about that night.

  Not that it’s doing any good because it’s in my head. His weight on top of me, his hand that covered my mouth until he told me who it was sneaking into my room in the dead of night, and his damn addictive smell. I wish I could bottle it and take it everywhere with me.

  I shiver.

  “Christ,” he mutters. “Why’d you have to go there right now?”

  My eyes drop and, sure enough, there’s a bulge.

  “You could pull over and let me take care of that for you.”

  “Mila, fuck.”

  There is literally nowhere to pull over at the minute. We’re on a narrow country road that will only just about let two cars pass each other by without a scrape.

  “My parents’ place is at the end of this road. Fuck.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear so much.”

  “It’s happening more and more around you.”

  “Am I a bad influence?”

  “No, I think you’re just the right influence. Before you, my life was pretty safe. Good job, good friends.”

  I hate that he doesn’t think his life was that exciting before. He’s seen things that most people only get to witness in pictures.

  “Safe? You have the best life and you travel. Reid, you jump headfirst into new experiences. I’m the safe one. I haven’t changed much for you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mila. You’ve changed everything.”

  I take a breath as the sincerity in his words floor me. I’ve done nothing, not in the grand scheme of things, but here he is, acting like I’ve won the lottery for him.

  However, hasn’t he done the same for me? I wouldn’t have spent a month working for Wilson Press and landed a proofreading job if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t have awesome sex. I wouldn’t jump at opportunities, and I wouldn’t have skinny-dipped in a river full of fish.

  “How?” I ask.

  “I like my life, I wasn’t complaining, but it was too quiet. You bring sound… surround sound.”

  “I’m noisy.”

  He chuckles and pulls into a drive. “In the best way possible.”

  I look ahead, and my heart freezes. “Oh shit, we’re here.”

  “It’s fine, you’re fine. We’ll get you a glass of wine soon.”

  “It’s ten in the morning.”

  “It’s my birthday, if that helps.”

  “Birthday rules. That’s right.”

  I get out, and Reid goes to the boot to grab our bags. The front door opens, and that’s the moment I want to sprint back down that little country road.

  “Reid!” Kelly shouts, running to her son. “Happy birthday!”

  I’ve never had a proper conversation with his parents before. It was always a quick greeting whenever I saw them outside their house, but the one thing I notice about Kelly every time is her smile. She never seems unhappy.

  “Hey, Mum.”

  Reid gives her a quick hug and turns to me. “You remember Mila, right?”

  “Of course,” she repli
es, opening her arms. “How are you, Mila? Your parents?”

  I hug her, thankful that my family are huggers as well or that could have been awkward.

  “We’re all good. Thank you for letting me crash Reid’s birthday.”

  She waves her hand. “Not at all. I’m so happy you’re here. Come on in, we have a birthday brunch set up. Phoebe, Callum, and Lexie should be here any minute.”

  Kelly grabs my hand. Reid, smiling, nods towards the house when I look back. My bag is still in his boot but he’s grabbing it.

  “Your house is massive.”

  Kelly drops my hand and leads me through to the kitchen. “We’re hoping to fill it with grandchildren.”

  They have one so far.

  I wonder what Reid would be like as a father. Oh. My. God. He would read his children bedtime stories, and nothing is sexier than a hot man reading to his kids.

  Their kitchen is about the size of Wembley Arena. All right, not quite, but it is enormous. They have a seating area with a large L-shaped sofa in it, too. The ceiling over the seating area and the twelve-person dining table are made of glass, letting a lot of light in. The room leads out to a garden that goes on forever.

  I’m totally judging him for not moving with them. He could get a job around here, surely?

  Wilson Press is a hard place to leave. I understand that first-hand, but I could happily live in this kitchen.

  “Where’s Dad?” Reid asks, wheeling our luggage in. Well, mine. He only has a small holdall. I have four pairs of shoes. For choice!

  Kelly rolls her eyes. “He’s mowing the lawn. It was above two inches tall. Heaven forbid.”

  “Is that a ride on lawnmower?” I ask, spotting something far off in the distance. Reid laughs. “Can I have a go?”

  Reid grabs my hand. “Erm, no. Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

  Kelly is all smiles when I turn back around.

  “I assume Mila’s in the bigger room?” Reid asks.

  “I didn’t think you’d mind,” Kelly replies.

  I bump Reid’s shoulder as we leave the kitchen and walk towards the stairs. “I get the big room. She already likes me more.”

  He smirks. “I never had any doubt.”

  We walk up the grand staircase that forks off in two directions.

  “Am I staying in the East or West wing?”

 

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