Read My Mind

by Natasha Preston

  I want to lose myself in him. I can’t help but glance at his toned back and, yes, his butt. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight. I’m drunk on Reid.

  It’s been two weeks. I need to get a fucking grip.

  “What do we do now?” I ask, clenching my teeth as we step out of the water and onto the grass.

  He chuckles, looking ahead and being the perfect gentleman. “Now, we wait.”

  When he let goes of my hand, I wring out my hair and try to ignore the cold prickle all over my skin.

  “We’re air drying?”

  “You could try blowing on yourself, but I don’t think it would be much quicker.”

  “Why don’t you blow on me?” I press my lips together and cringe, dying a thousand deaths inside. Why, why, why? You utter moron!

  He tries to mask his amusement by rubbing his mouth, but I hear the laugh. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, careful not to get a full-frontal view. “If that’s an actual invite, lay down, and I’ll get straight to it.”

  “Very funny,” I rasp. Not funny at all.

  I wrap my arms around my freezing breasts and squeeze my thighs together. Reid bends down to pick up his T-shirt. He’s not at the right angle for me to get a good look between the legs. Not that I would look. Nope.

  “Dry yourself with that,” he says, chucking the T-shirt sideways and hitting me in the stomach with it.

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue, Mila.”

  I run the soft material over my chest and discretely breathe in his scent. My toes curl into the grass. “Thanks,” I say.

  Reid pulls his boxers up when I’m just about finished getting dressed. His soggy T-shirt is on the ground.

  I pick it up once his jeans are on.

  “I’m decent,” I tell him.

  He turns. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed by that.”

  “You’ve had a good visual.”

  “Yes, I have. Come on, I’ll put the heating on. You have goosebumps.”

  That has nothing to do with the temperature.

  We get back inside Reid’s car. He takes his T-shirt from me and throws it into the back. Then he starts the engine and whacks the heating up.

  “Thank you for tonight. It’s been the best.”

  “Anytime, Mila. I mean that.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that. Though, I am going to pack an adventure bag to leave in your boot.”

  “A what?”

  “A bag with towels, a first aid kit, foreign money, flare, parachute, burner phone. That kind of thing.”

  He nods as we drive away from the river. “What would we be doing to need a flare?”

  “No idea, but we could have used the towels tonight. Are we going home now?”

  “You don’t want to?”

  “I don’t want tonight to end,” I admit.

  “You know, there’s a McDonald’s fifteen minutes away.”

  “You are the perfect man. Let’s do it.”

  He turns the radio up, blasting Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do, I Do It for You.

  Sixteen

  Reid

  Twenty minutes after leaving the river, Mila and I are sitting in a very quiet McDonald’s with Big Mac, fries, and a shake—hers, chocolate, mine, strawberry.

  Her hair is still damp, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her smile is bright, and she’s not taken her eyes off me yet.

  I thankfully had a spare T-shirt in my boot from my last visit to my parents’ that my mum just had to wash, so I’m not having to sit in wet clothes.

  Mila takes a sip of her shake. “All right, I need to know… what’s a typical date with you? I used to assume it would be straight up dinner but after tonight…”

  I’m a little stunned that she’s thought of that. “Depends on the woman.”

  “Where would you take Indie?”

  “I wouldn’t take Indie anywhere.”

  Her shoulders slump. “I wasn’t actually asking you to take her out.”

  “I know. I’d take you to an escape room… then for food.”

  She sits straighter. “Have you done one?”

  “Not yet. Have you?”

  “No, but we have to go. I bet we’d ace it.”

  “We’ll go one day. What about you? What’s your idea of a perfect date?” I ask.

  “Honestly, anything other than the same old restaurant, a quick fumble, and fucking Formula One.”

  “Don’t look back, Mila. You’re moving forwards now.”

  “That’s true. I do sometimes wonder how he’s doing. I mean, he knew we were wrong in the end, but I’d like to know if he’s happy.”

  “That’s understandable. Have you contacted him?”

  “No, definitely not. I’d like to think that he’s moved on and one day we can catch up.”

  “Do you think you could do that?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe. He’s one of my oldest friends, but even your best intentions aren’t always realistic. Not many people manage a friendship after a breakup. Anyway, this isn’t putting Liam behind me.”

  “Is he completely behind you?”

  “Yes, totally. I’m learning more and more about myself all the time. I would never settle again. Liam was a great first boyfriend for the first eighteen months. We should have left things after the first breakup… and would you stop making me talk about him?” She laughs and adds, “I don’t want this night to be tainted with my old life.”

  I agree. This night feels so different to any other we’ve spent together. Not just because we’ve been skinny dipping. Something has changed, and I don’t think we could ever go back now. The flirting, the fact that we’ve been naked together. Everything before tonight was the before. Everything that happens from now will always be the after.

  “All right, no more Liam talk.”

  “Will you tell me about your past, though?” she asks.

  I raise a brow.

  “Come on, you know all about my last relationship. Have you ever been in anything serious?”

  “Not really serious. My longest relationship was just over a year. Ellie. She was sweet, liked to read, but we weren’t right together.”

  “Why? Would she not skinny dip in the river at night?”

  “Oh, she definitely wouldn’t have done that. Good thing I have you.”

  “You’re so lucky.”

  I chuckle and pick up my burger. “Modesty becomes you.”

  “You created this monster with your compliments of beautiful and stunning.”

  “Good. You should always think that about yourself.”

  I understand that we all have things about ourselves that we don’t like and are desperate to change, but when I look at Mila, I see perfection. Her flaws are swallowed by her beauty, her fierce nature, and her loyalty to her family and friends.

  “The world would be better if everyone did,” she says.

  I’m not particularly worried about the rest of the world.

  “Do you miss your family?” she asks.

  “I do. It’s easier now than when they first moved.”

  “You didn’t fancy the commute from where they moved to?”

  “It’s another thirty minutes on top of what I travel now.” And I couldn’t leave you.

  “I can’t wait to come to work with you. I want to see you in action.”

  I can show you action. “You’re going to love it. Mel is great, and so is just about every one of my colleagues.”

  “Just about? Who’s the office twat?”

  Grinning, I reply, “Andrew. He works in HR. If you’re not politically correct, you’ll be in his office.”

  “Better reserve a chair in there now.”

  “I don’t know. For a man who prides himself on being moral, he’s a sucker for a pretty face. I think you’ll be fine.”

  “Pretty now, too, huh?”

  “That was underselling it, and I apologise.”

  She laughs. “Do you think people are made for each other?
”

  “Where did that come from?”

  “Ugh, from the earlier talk. I’d always thought so, but now I’m not sure.”

  “People aren’t made for another particular person. If they were, relationships wouldn’t be messy or require work. I think it’s luck, pure luck—being in the right place at the right time—that you find the person you can’t live without.”

  We moved because the company my dad works for wanted him to open a new office here. My dad initially turned it down and they were going to offer the job to someone else. Mum called him at the last minute to tell him to go for it.

  Five more minutes and it would be another family living in my house, and I may have never met Mila.

  “A lot of people get lucky,” she says.

  “A lot of people deserve to.”

  “Do you think those who haven’t found anyone are unlucky?”

  “Not at all. Not everyone finds love early. It doesn’t matter how many years you share with that person; it’s how you spend that time that counts.”

  The smile she gives me takes my breath away. “I like that. I’m greedy, though, and I want at least fifty years spent right.”

  “Of course, you do. Better meet him quick.”

  She picks up her shake. “Lucky is my middle name.”

  I’m hoping mine is, too.

  Seventeen

  Mila

  It’s time to get myself into the gym. That’s right, I’m actually doing it.

  I’ve been sorting out a lot in my life recently. Next week, I start work experience, but my arse needs the same treatment. After seeing Reid naked—memories for a lifetime—I realised how much I want to tone up a bit more.

  Jason greets me as I walk inside the swanky gym. His smile looks more like he’s evil laughing in his head. Fresh meat to punish and all that.

  “Hey, Mila.”

  “Has anyone ever died while training with you?”

  He laughs. “You’re exactly as I remembered. No, they haven’t. I wonder if you’ll be the first.”

  “If anyone’s doing it, it’ll be me.”

  “Let’s get you ready.”

  He’s already shown me around and taught me how the equipment works. We met yesterday after uni, but this is my first proper session with him, and I’m fucking scared.

  When I think about the type of fitness I’d like to do, I always picture a bit of Pilates and then a glass of prosecco in the bar. I’ve signed myself up for actual gym equipment.

  Reid’s name might be mud in ten minutes.

  After dumping my stuff in a locker in the ladies’ changing room, I take my water through to the gym to meet back up with Jason.

  He smiles, leaning against a treadmill. “Looking fine.”

  “Do you come on to all of your clients?”

  He arches a dark brow. “Only the hot ones. Don’t tell Reid about this or he’ll have my balls. Let’s start with a warmup, and then we’ll move to the exercise bike. I’ll start you off easy and we’ll build on it from there.”

  Why can’t we tell Reid? Wait, and what are we building on?

  This was a mistake. I feel it already.

  “Okay.”

  He takes the water bottle that I’m clinging to and puts it down. The gym isn’t particularly busy because it’s mid-morning, so I don’t have to worry about crowds of people laughing at how unfit I am. Though, Reid assured me that that doesn’t happen.

  No one is grunting, so at least I don’t have to worry about bursting into fits of laugher.

  Jason takes me through a warmup, which could be classed a full workout in itself. Since when are press ups included in a warmup? Gritting my teeth, I push myself up one last time.

  “Great. On your feet, Mila.”

  My knees crash to the floor. I look up at him and glare.

  Reluctantly, I follow him to a bike and get on. At least my arms are getting a break while I do this. Jesus, I’m already breaking a sweat. How am I so unfit? My tired legs push the pedals round.

  How long have I been here? Twenty minutes at least, it must be. I glance down at the time on the little screen.

  Fuck me. Eight minutes! That can’t be right.

  “Good,” Jason praises. “Keep that pace for the next five minutes.”

  I give him a sideways glare while my lungs start to burn.

  “You’re doing well, Mila,” he says, grinning.

  “It’s only been eight minutes?” I pant.

  “Don’t worry about the time.”

  Fuck’s sake, I’ve booked an hour-long PT session.

  “I’ve got Reid tonight,” he says.

  I already know this. I gasp for a breath before I can reply. “That’ll be nice for you.”

  “He’ll come home hot and sweaty.”

  My foot almost flies off the pedal.

  I peddle harder, imagining sweat rolling down those rippling muscles. I should come here at the same time one day, just to watch him workout. I bet it’s sexy as fuck.

  We should come here together, and then take a shower… together.

  “Mila, time,” Jason says.

  “What?”

  “Time’s up. You had good focus there.”

  I stop my burning legs and smile. It’s probably not a friendly-looking smile. “Yeah. Well, I wanted to get it over.”

  All right, dirty thoughts about Reid makes exercising go faster. Noted.

  “Great job. Follow me and we’ll get started on some light weights.”

  “You and Reid are kind of an odd match,” I say, sitting down and taking hold of the bar.

  He tilts his head. “How so?”

  “You’re a PT and he’s an editor. Don’t get me wrong, that would make one hot threesome in a porno.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “I’ll tell him you think so.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that.”

  “Reid’s cool. No drama and genuine. There aren’t many people like that around. He’s had his fair share of shit, but it never turned him bitter. I know, without question, he would jump if I ever needed help.”

  “Does he open up to you, then?”

  He nods. “It takes him a while. I have a feeling you’ll find out everything eventually.”

  I hope so. What is this shit he’s been through? Reid will tell me so much about his work and everything positive in his life. I know nothing of his hardships. I’m not Facebook; he doesn’t have to pretend everything is rosy to me.

  “You two are quite different, too,” he says, guiding the bar as I work on my biceps.

  “Yeah,” I say, gritting my teeth as my muscles scream in pain. “Same as you, I suppose. We just get on really well, and we do have books and the desire to travel in common.”

  “Two book geeks finding each other. You know that means you have to get married, right?”

  “Are you marrying a PT?” I ask, lowering the bar that I’m certain is doubling in weight with each lift. My muscles feel like they’re being torn to shreds.

  “I don’t believe in marriage.”

  “What? What kind of bullshit is that? If she dies, how do you know that you’ll get all of her stuff?”

  He laughs again. “I think we could probably just get a will to take care of that.”

  “Why don’t you want to get married?”

  “You’re very direct.”

  “Best way to be.” Shit, I think I’m going to faint.

  “I happen to agree. My folks were unhappily married for thirty years. They stayed together for us, thinking they were doing the right thing. We didn’t have a bad childhood but we knew our parents shared no love.”

  “That doesn’t mean all marriages are bad, and oh my God, when can I stop this? Everything hurts.”

  “Last rep,” he says, smirking.

  I grit my teeth, lower the bar, and I let go. My arms fall to the sides, dangling as if they’re now boneless.

  “Reid will want to get married,” Jason says. “He moans if he ever has to edit rom
ance, but deep down, he’s got a romantic soul.”

  “I’ve never seen him be anything other than calm and controlled. No deep passion, except for books and travel, and no anger.”

  “Oh, it’s there. He’s a higher being is Reid.”

  “You’ve stopped making sense, mate.”

  “I’m just messing. My point being, Reid doesn’t act on emotion unless it’s something he really cares about.”

  “Oh, I’ve just not seen him care…”

  Not seen him care. My heart sinks. But what am I expecting? I don’t really know him.

  “Throw stones at his car. You’ll see emotion then.”

  I stand and almost fall back on my arse. “You’re going to see emotion soon if you keep working me like this.”

  For the next forty minutes, Jason makes me hurt on just about every torture device—or equipment, as he calls it.

  I had to fake a wee break just so I could get two minutes to stop myself from throwing up. Jason would have given me a minute if I’d asked, but I didn’t want to seem weak, and didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle it. So, I did what any other self-respecting woman would do and I played the period card so I could dry heave into a toilet.

  My body better be ripped tomorrow.

  “See you in two days,” Jason says from the reception desk as I make my escape.

  I smile over my shoulder. “Can’t wait.”

  I pray for illness in two days.

  Eighteen

  Reid

  I get out of my car and burst out laughing. Mila is shuffling along the path with her index finger pointed at me like she’s an angry old lady.

  This morning was her first session with Jason.

  “It went well, then?” I ask when she reaches me.

  “You are a knobhead, sir.”

  God, I love her like this. “You think you hurt now? Wait until tomorrow.”

  “Everything is broken. I can’t even sit on the toilet seat. I have to hover. Hover!”

  I cover my laughter with my hand and a cough.