I follow Reid to the pen section. “I thought you would have some sort of fancy Mont Blanc pen.”
He shrugs. “I have two of those but I also need some cheap ones for heavy notes.” He reads my blank expression. “First drafts, I always work on by hand. I tend to be very rough.”
Are we still talking about work?
I gulp.
Reid Walker… rough. He looks like a gentleman until his dark eyes do that smouldering black thing. He’s smooth lines, easy on the bad language, and driving me around when I’m at a loss. When I picture him in bed, it’s…
No, Mila. You don’t imagine him in bed.
Although, it’s no different to imagining the Hemsworths in bed. Yes, both of them. Except that I know Reid, so it’s not at all the same.
“You should get them all,” I say, waving my hand over the shelf of pens.
He picks up three.
Is it okay for me to ask if I can watch him make notes?
“Are you ready to go, Mila?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod for effect because I’m a total idiot.
Reid walks to the counter, and I follow, trying to shake off very inappropriate images in my head. I really need to get my lecture over with so I can go out and drink a big glass of wine.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask as he puts my notebook with his stuff on the counter.
“I’ve got it.”
“Reid, no.”
He ignores me and taps his pin number into the machine. Ugh. I wish I’d looked at his pin, memorised it, and used it to buy him a sex doll.
The lady bags our stuff up and hands it over to him.
“Reid, come on. You don’t have to pay. I didn’t expect that.”
“I know,” he replies, walking out of the shop.
I jog to catch up and find him heading towards a coffee shop.
“Jesus, you can move it when you want to. Let me pay you back.”
He side-eyes me. “No.”
“It’s nice of you, but—”
“Mila, it’s a notebook.”
“But you’ve already driven me around all day long.”
He stops outside the coffee shop. It smells so good in there. “I’m not keeping score. Do you want coffee?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Do you want coffee?”
“Are you asking in general, or are you trying to pay me back by buying me a drink?”
“You’re difficult.” I walk past him and push the door open. “I’m getting a latte. What do you want?”
“Mila?”
I don’t give him time to argue with me.
“Two lattes, please,” I tell the barista. “Reid, can you grab a table?” Poor guy looks like he’s several steps behind. “Look, there’s one in the corner.”
He blinks. “Mila.”
“Please don’t make this difficult. It’s the least I can do.”
“I don’t want you to spend your money on me.”
I hold my phone near the reader and smile at him, hearing the little ping of the sale. Too late, buddy.
“I’ll bring them over in a minute,” the barista says.
“Thanks,” I reply.
Giving Reid another quick smile, I head to the table I asked him to grab. He sits down and leans back in the chair. I don’t know if he can read minds, but it sure looks like he’s trying.
“If it’s a staring competition you want, I’m all over that. Just need a quick recap of the rules before we start. Is this first to blink or first to look away?”
His lips curl at the sides. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“Please do share your findings. Ugh, I sounded like my high school science teacher then.”
Our lattes are placed on the table. Reid mutters a quick thanks, his eyes never leaving mine.
I still have no idea what game we’re playing, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t excite me.
Six
Mila
Reid dropped me off at uni and went home when I promised to have someone else pick me up. Liam was able to get off work in time to get me. He fixed my car and my parents offered to pick it up on their way home from dinner with friends.
Carrying my new notebook, I get into his car.
“Hey, babe,” he says, rubbing his dirty forehead.
I hold my hand up. “You need to shower before that mouth comes anywhere near me. You smell of oil.”
He laughs and pulls out onto the road. “I thought you didn’t care whether I was clean or dirty.”
“Well, I’m clean.”
“You bought another one,” he says, eyeing the notebook on my lap. It still has the sales sticker on the front. Reid spent fifteen pounds on it.
“I like stationery.”
I should tell him about today. Guilt clutches at my throat. He would want to know that Reid gave me a lift to uni as well as to the garage this morning. If it were the other way around, I would want to know.
Liam bobs his head in time with the radio.
I’ve always been attracted to him. He’s blonde-haired and blue-eyed, often covered in muck from his job, but he scrubs up well.
It’s not that I don’t love him, because I do. It’s that we’re settling.
“Are you happy?” I ask him suddenly.
He frowns in response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.”
“It sounds like you aren’t.”
“I’m just trying to figure things out.”
“What things?”
“My life. The future. Don’t you think about that stuff?”
“You think about it too much. Go with the flow, Mila. Things will work out.”
I wring my hands. “But what if they don’t? Liam, I don’t want to float through life. I want to do something, go places, be someone. I have dreams and ambition. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life just working and eating out.”
I want to be consumed with love.
I’m begging him to throw me in his cave and hold me hostage. Obviously, not forever, that’s kidnap. But you know what I mean. I want passion.
Liam is passionate about cars.
“You can do whatever you want,” he says.
“I’m now sure that I want to be published, and I want to…” I want to have a relationship like my parents and friends have.
“To what?”
“Be successful,” I say instead of the truth. Though, I do want success.
“You will be. Your stories are great, and you’re acing your assignments.”
He doesn’t know if my writing is any good because he’s never even asked to read anything. He’s supportive, don’t get me wrong, but he has no interest in what I want to do. Not that I’d let him read. Should I want to be an author if I don’t want anyone to read my work?
“Thanks.” What else is there to say? “Where are we going to eat?”
“Luciano’s?”
“We always go there. How about that new Thai place?”
“Do you even like Thai?”
“I’ll let you know later.”
Laughing, he nods. “Okay but be prepared for a stop at McDonald's after.”