Who Needs Reality? (Team Northwest Sweet Romance Book 1)

by Lia London

  “I had you, didn’t I?” She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, looking like a swimsuit model with her tousled hair and sundress.

  “We’re not siblings.” He needed to get her out of that relationship mode.

  “Yes, we are. Twins.” She tapped his nose playfully, leaning her body against him for just a second. “Practically inseparable.”

  “Joined at the hip.” Did I say that out loud? He stuffed the top of his cone into his mouth to shut himself up.

  Jill snorted with laughter. “Oh, that’s attractive. You look like a cartoon rat.”

  “You’re the one snuffling like a pig.”

  Bumping him with a wide sway of her hip, Jill took a long lick of her cone.

  Milo’s body went on red alert, bracing for a collision of epically embarrassing proportions if he didn’t look away.

  “Everybody ready?” Jill waved her cone in the air. “We have one more stop before we get to go home and swim.”

  “What? What else?” Milo had been looking forward to the pool idea all day.

  Jill wiped ice cream from his upper lip with her thumb and whispered, “We’ve got to get them some new shoes. The one’s they’ve got are thrashed.”

  “Shoe shopping?” Milo’s skin still tingled from where she’d touched him.

  “Don’t worry. These are little boys. They won’t need a photo shoot to decide.”

  “That’s a super sweet idea, Jill,” said Antonio, standing too close to her for Milo’s comfort. “But you don’t need to do that.”

  “Don’t be silly. They need summer running shoes so they can go fast, fast, fast!” She said the last part while grinning in Emilio’s direction.

  Emilio jumped in place. “Antonio, please? These ones are tight.” He lifted a foot for his big brother to examine.

  “We can wait until school starts.”

  “Antonio, you can pay me back if you win. Don’t worry about it. I do this all the time, right, Milo?”

  Milo perked up at his name. “Yeah. She’s like a professional shopper. Just pay her back when you win.”

  Antonio narrowed his eyes, but his smile remained friendly. “And if I don’t win?”

  “It’s your consolation prize.” Milo shrugged.

  Antonio seemed to accept this and ushered the boys back to his car. “Okay, we’ll follow you.”

  As Milo and Jill headed towards his Corolla, he whispered, “This is all really nice, but seriously, Jill … why the sudden mission to help these kids?”

  “I feel like I need to do something. His parents are dead, his sister was shot, he—”

  “What?!”

  “It’s a horrible story. Straight out of the soap scene, but real.” Her eyes watered a little. “I’ve got so many blessings, so much security. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Jill, you are beautiful and good to the core.”

  Her nose twitched in her trying-not-to-cry expression. “Thanks. This means a lot to me.”

  “You mean a lot to me.” I want to show you. Maybe tonight … at the sleep-over …

  “Milo, I don’t know what to do.”

  “About what?”

  “I want to win, and I want you to win with me, but Antonio needs the money more, but I can’t do this without you, and … I don’t know what to do.”

  Caressing her back, Milo murmured, “We’ll find a way for everyone to win, Jill. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out together.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know how to swim? You live at the beach!” Jill teased from her perch on the edge of the pool.

  “Hey, it’s pretty cold at the coast.” Carlos frowned. “You try swimming in the ocean.”

  “Okay, valid point. It’s not sunny California.” She slid into the shallow end and stood with her hands on her hips in her red and blue one-piece. Carlos and Emilio bobbed up and down a few feet away, smacking each other with neon yellow foam noodles.

  Jill turned to see Milo leading Antonio out onto the patio deck. She smiled as they did the hot-foot shuffle over to the water’s edge. As expected, Antonio cut a stunning, bronzed figure in his cut-off shorts. She had not expected, however, how good Milo would look. With pleasant surprise, she watched him dive smoothly into the deep end and glide to her in one breath.

  She exhaled a soft laugh as he surfaced and stood beside her, glistening in the late afternoon sun. “Impressive,” she said with a shy smirk. “Have I seen you in a swimsuit this year?”

  He swiped his hair back from his eyes, bringing a stop to her heart for a second. “I think it’s been about a year.”

  “I guess so.” Splashing him, she dropped to sit on the floor of the pool and squeezed her eyes shut. Milo was no longer the pencil-necked, pimply boy who used to play Marco Polo with her five years ago. He had changed a lot—and continued to blossom before her eyes even in the last few weeks.

  The whoosh of another body in the water made her open her eyes. Milo floated in front of her, his hair stretching wildly around his head like a plasma ball.

  He said something to her, bubbles rising from his nose and mouth.

  Jill shook her head and kicked off to surface. He came up beside her a second later.

  “Are we going to teach these kids to swim, or what?” he asked.

  “How about we teach them to swim and to what?”

  Milo moved his eyebrows in a comical wave. “What and what?”

  “You know,” said Jill, adopting a diving pose. “All the waterplay what.” She plunged downward with her hands, thrusting her legs straight in the air in an underwater handstand. Any second now, Milo would try to tickle her feet as he had a thousand times, so she fluttered them. But instead of little pokes on her toes, she felt his hands grasp her by the knees and sweep gently along her skin to her toes.

  She felt the air leave her lungs at his touch and let her hands release. Her legs folded down into the water, brushing against his body. When she burst up for air, she hoped he wouldn’t see her breathing harder.

  “Come on. Let’s start with the basics, Aqua Girl.” He laughed and led her in the direction of Carlos and Emilio. Could they see that part of her was on fire even though she was soaking wet?

  The next hour was one of breathless, laughing wonder for Jill, as she filled her mind with snapshots more beautiful than any fashionable dress: Carlos cannonballing, Emilio chasing a noodle across the shallow end, Carlos pumping his fists in victory when he learned to doggy paddle, and Emilio floating on his back as Milo dragged him in big, slow circles. Milo. The sun shimmered on his skin as he cheered the boys on. He pulled himself from the deep water up onto the diving board with lean muscles and sat there chatting with Antonio about a show on Netflix.

  Jill blinked and sank onto the steps in the corner of the shallow end, hoping the water would hide the pounding of her heart.

  Too late. He heard it. Milo had turned, and their gaze locked. His lips curved up in a shy smile, and he rolled himself playfully off the board like an otter splashing into the ocean. He emerged with only the top of his face showing. With his sparkling eyes never leaving hers, he glided across the distance until he knelt in the water just an arm’s length away. Something beckoned in his eyes, and she lowered herself off the steps to kneel opposite him.

  Was the water wafting her to him? She felt her arms lift, float. His hands met hers, not clasping … just drifting together like sea kelp on a soft current.

  Milo lifted his lips out of the water and smiled. “Aren’t you that TV star?” His voice rumbled softly, barely louder than the dragonflies buzzing.

  Her breath shuddered with an unexpected thrill. “I’m just your Jilliet.”

  Milo’s brow flickered up, igniting a gleam in his eye. “My Jilliet.” His fingers laced through hers, drawing her closer—

  “Cannonball!” Carlos crashed into the water beside them, rocking them off balance.

  “Okay, everyone!” called Mabel from the patio door. “Dinner’s on!”

  J
ill sighed. As good as Mabel’s cooking was, that wasn’t what she was hungry for.

  That night, when the house was quiet, Milo pressed the button on his watch to light up the face. 12:03am. Was Jill asleep? He pictured her lying in his old bedroom, her cheeks resting on his pillow. The image in his mind shoved him off the couch and started his feet padding up the stairs, skipping the fourth from the top because it creaked.

  In the hall, he hesitated.

  A soft sigh came from inside his room. The door, open only a few inches, revealed no movement. Moonlight from the window framed the shadowy outline of the bed and night table.

  “Jill?” he whispered. “You awake?”

  “Milo?” Her groggy voice hinted that she may have been dreaming. She pushed herself up on her elbow. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”

  In a swift move, he came and knelt beside the bed, leaning his arms on the mattress beside her. “A little wired up about tomorrow’s filming, I guess.”

  Her hand reached to him. “You’re so sweet to care about the others like you do.”

  Milo’s breathing stopped and he leaned his cheek gently into her hand. “You started it.”

  Their voices were so soft, he wondered how he could hear them over his fast-pulsing veins.

  She lay her head back down, letting her hand fall to his shoulder. For a while, neither spoke, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Shifting carefully to sit, he positioned himself so that his face was close to hers.

  Jill ruffled his hair and retrieved her hand, tucking it under the pillow.

  Disappointed, he gazed at the way the faint light played over her bare shoulder and arms. His eyes returned to hers, almost shrouded in shadow. “Jill.” He didn’t know how to vocalize all the feelings in his heart. If he could just touch her, would she feel them? His hand brushed her cheek.

  Jill untucked her hand and clasped his. “Milo Halsey, you are a good man.”

  She sounded so sleepy. Too sleepy to burden with a confession of love. With an aching tightness in his chest, he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead, cherishing the silky sweetness of her skin. “Goodnight, sweet Jilliet. See you in the morning.”

  Milo peeked in the bathroom as Jill finished brushing her teeth. “I like what you did with the kids’ hair. Any chance I can get a private salon moment?”

  Jill gave a thumbs-up and spat the toothpaste into the sink.

  “Sexy,” he teased.

  “At least the tongue I’m sticking at you is minty fresh.” She winked and rinsed her mouth out, feeling Milo’s eyes on her the whole time. Normal people would get grossed out, watching her foam at the mouth. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

  She guided Milo to sit on the rim of the bath tub and sifted his hair thoughtfully before adding product and styling it. Has it always been this soft? He smiled up at her the whole time, as if he had some big secret, and for a second, she stopped, studying the glint in his eye. “What are you up to?”

  Did he blush? “Just enjoying the scalp massage. I should have been a puppy.”

  She tickled his ears. “You are, Milo.”

  “Woof.”

  With her fingers grazing his jaw, their eyes met and her mind flashed back to the hazy memory of him at her bedside. Had that been real? A tingling on her forehead whispered yes.

  She turned to the bag of hair products, aware of heat rising in her cheeks. With concentrated effort, she knelt on the tile floor and adjusted his wayward locks. They were surely close enough for him to identify the brand of toothpaste she’d used. His soft breath brushed against her skin and her heart thumped with unexpected urgency. Jill’s mouth fell open with surprise, and his eyes flickered to her lips.

  “Does it look all right? My hair?” His husky morning voice short-circuited her brain for a second, and she forgot to move.

  “It’s perfect.” She quickly turned on the water to rinse her fingers of the styling crème.

  Milo stood behind her, watching their reflection in the mirror. “Thanks. You’re so good to me.” His hands slipped around her waist for a brief side hug before he parted, and Jill was left splashing cold water on her face and trying to remember how to breathe.

  ***

  The studio’s van pulled up to the playground at 7:55am, three minutes after Milo’s car. Parker stepped out with a clipboard, took one eyeful of Antonio walking with his little brothers towards the swings, and cast Milo and Jill an inquisitive smirk.

  “His brothers,” explained Jill.

  “He’s their guardian. Like in the fired waiter scene, but for real,” added Milo.

  “This’ll be … interesting.” Parker banged the side of the van. “Ned! Today already!”

  The side door slid open and Ned emerged with his gear. He saw Jill and a sleazy leer distorted his face. “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming today.”

  Parker ushered Ned toward the play structure. “Go check out angles on that thing. Let’s get creative with this.”

  “Are the kids in this? Who are they?”

  “Just think of the kids as live action props.” As Ned trudged across the grass, Parker wagged a finger back and forth between them. “You two are up to something.” She gave a sly nod. “And I approve. Now get out of here and let me work. You’re not supposed to be watching each other’s shoots.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry.” Parker cut Jill off. “I understand the angle. Very Olympic.” She winked and followed Ned across the grass. “Go. You’re not supposed to watch each other’s featurettes being made.”

  Milo harrumphed. “But I was hoping to watch both Antonio and Amaya.”

  Jill bristled. “Amaya, too?”

  “Well, I kind of promised her I would.” He gave an exaggerated shrug. “She asked.”

  “How close are you and Amaya, anyway?”

  Milo stiffened. “How close are you and Antonio?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jill rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She didn’t need her motives questioned. If he wanted to go scope out Amaya, so be it.

  But it wasn’t like Milo to break the rules

  “Why don’t you watch, and I can take Jill and the boys for lunch,” suggested Antonio. “I owe her for the shoes.”

  “But …” Milo didn’t like the sound of that option at all. “Aren’t they tired of all this stuff? You can take them home.”

  Jill folded her arms. “I thought we were doing lunch all together.”

  “It’s still early.” Why was she resisting so much? “It won’t be that long, will it?” Milo noted the distance in Jill’s eyes.

  “Nah, you go watch Amaya,” said Jill with a clipped tone. “Even though Parker said we’re not supposed to see each other’s Olympic moments.”

  It wasn’t like Jill to worry about little rules when supporting friends. What was wrong with her? Did she really just want more time with Antonio?

  “I … okay.” Milo raked his fingers through his hair and tried to read her face.

  “We can meet up here when you’re done. Just text me.”

  Nothing she said had been unkind, but Milo felt as if he’d been slapped. Had he imagined the close moments they’d shared in the last few days? Was he the only one feeling anything at all? Was he just a hormonal wreck who needed a girlfriend fast?

  Maybe.

  Probably.

  He sighed. “Okay. See you soon.”

  “We’ll grab something to go and be over there at the park. No worries.” Jill walked off across the grass.

  Milo stared at the ground. She hadn’t offered to pick up lunch for him. Not that he expected her to buy his lunch, but …

  He trudged over to the high school and checked the doors. Seeing no one in the lobby, he stealth ran down the hall, a little silly in broad daylight. He had to go around two corners and almost to the end before he found a marked door that opened into a tiny dark passage with metal stairs leading up. The light booth. Would there be technicians up there for this? If not, he’d
have a perfect view of the stage. Half-way up, he stopped cold, hearing a woman’s voice.

  “I’m sure he looked dreamy, but he can’t get his hopes up too high. There’s really no room for taco trucks on the marina, you know.”

  Kamilah!

  A man laughed. “No little Raza uprising, then?”

  Ned.

  “I doubt it. That’s not the base viewership. He won’t last long.”

  Milo felt an icy chill. He had spent the last twenty-four hours nurturing a jealous enmity towards Antonio, and suddenly that vanished away. He might not like competing with Antonio for Jill, but in the show? That was a different matter. It should be fair.

  He chewed his lips shut to keep in anything that might fall out. Profanity. Vomit. What was the matter with these people? Did they just see Antonio as a faceless number? A diversity quota to be filled but not valued?

  Carefully turning in place, he kicked his legs out and slid down the banisters on his hands, landing in a crouch at the bottom. He made his way to the door that led backstage. With Ned in the light booth for now, he figured he could climb up into the catwalks above the stage. As he reached the ladder, he heard movement behind him.

  “Milo?”

  “Sh. Hi, Amaya. I came to watch you, but I’m not actually here, if you know what I mean. I’m just a figment of your imagination, here to cheer you on.”

  She took his hand in both of hers. “You are so sweet. Thanks, Milo. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck. Or break-a-leg. Or whatever you say. What are you going to do?”

  “Dance.”

  “For a soap opera competition?”

  “This may be my one shot to be on TV. I’m using this for me, not Who Wants to Be a Soap Star?”

  “That’s genius! I hope some famous talent scout sees you!”

  “Aw, thanks.” She gave his hand a soft squeeze and pulled him in close to kiss his cheek.