by Claire Raye
At the end of my shift, I say good night to everyone and head out to my car to drive home. The streets are quiet, so by the time I pull into the parking garage, it’s only just past eleven.
I head inside, jamming my thumb on the elevator button. It’s down in the basement and takes a sec to arrive, but when the doors open to the parking garage, I’m greeted by Mila, leaning against the back wall, a basket of laundry in her arms.
“Hey,” she says, smiling at me.
“Hey yourself,” I reply, stepping inside. The doors close, shutting the two of us in as the lift begins its slow journey to our floor.
“How was work?” she asks.
I lift a shoulder. “Pretty quiet. Your sister dropped by.”
Mila makes a strange noise and when I meet her gaze in the mirrored doors displaying our reflections, she smirks a little, her tongue now poking out to wet her bottom lip. All of a sudden, this lift feels small and claustrophobic, a weird electricity crackling in the air between us.
“I thought you were coming by?” I ask, needing to break the tension.
She pushes off the wall as the elevator comes to a stop. “Actually, I thought I was stopping by your place after work.”
She wanders out past me and of course my eyes drop to her ass, which is currently covered in tight jeans and looking spectacular. “Did we agree on that?” I ask.
Mila walks down the corridor before pausing outside our doors, facing my apartment instead of hers. “I think it was left open-ended,” she says, smiling at me. “But, I mean, seeing as we’re both here, it seems like maybe someone is telling us to hang out.”
I chuckle, amused at her reasoning. “Right and we’re just hanging out, are we?”
“Well, we could have a couple of drinks,” she suggests.
“Uh huh,” I say, leaning back against my door, arms crossed over my chest.
“I’m willing to offer up something in return.”
“Sexual favors,” I blurt out without even thinking about it. Fuck me, I really need to stop with this flirting when it comes to Mila. Even if she was to offer me exactly what I just suggested, I know there’s not a chance in hell I can take her up on it.
She bursts out laughing, her eyes shining as she looks up at me. Fuck, she really does have amazing eyes. “Well, I was going to suggest food, but I guess we can negotiate.”
I swallow hard, knowing I need to move things away from anything even remotely connected to sex. “Food is good. What have you got?”
“Let me go and dump this laundry and grab something,” she says, reaching behind to open her front door. It closes behind her before I even have a chance to say anything. Exhaling, I unlock my front door and go inside, wondering if this isn’t the dumbest idea ever.
While waiting to see if Mila is actually going to come over, I kick off my shoes and head into the kitchen to grab a beer. Just as I’m twisting the cap off, my front door opens and in walks Mila, a couple of takeaway containers in her hands.
“Oh please, come on in,” I say, half sarcastic, half teasing as she walks into the kitchen, her eyes scanning my apartment.
“Wow, did you just move in or something?” she asks, dumping the containers on the bench as she walks to my fridge and helps herself to a beer.
“No,” I reply, leaning back against the sink.
Mila scans my small apartment and picks at the label of her beer bottle. “Well, I really like what you’ve done with the place,” she says, brows raised as she turns back to me.
I smile, pushing off the bench as I walk over to see what food she’s brought. “Yeah, I do travel around a fair bit you know, so I tend not to accumulate a lot of stuff, because it’s a pain in the arse having to move it.” I pull off the lids, my mouth watering at the enchiladas, corn chips and guacamole she’s brought over. “Fuck, this is awesome, thanks.”
Mila nods in acknowledgement. “How long have you been in Hawthorn?”
I grab some forks from the drawer, pulling out a stool at the bench and taking a seat. I hand a fork to Mila before digging into the enchilada. “Dunno, maybe six months.”
“Where were you before that?” she asks, taking a seat beside me.
“Spent some time in Canada,” I say between mouthfuls. “Before that, I was in Boston, Florida and the Caribbean.”
“The what?” she says, laughing.
“The Caribbean.”
Mila lets out a snort as she says, “Pretty sure it’s pronounced Ca-rib-e-an.”
“Uh huh,” I reply, nudging her shoulder with mine. “Pretty sure I speak the Queen’s, so I’m the one pronouncing it right.”
Mila rolls her eyes. “No, you speak Australian.”
“Whatever,” I say. “How come you moved to Hawthorn?” Even though Caleb asked me not to dig, it feels like the perfect segue to do exactly that. Plus, it takes the heat off me with all her questions.
Mila gives a shrug as though it’s no big deal. “Wanted a change,” she says, stabbing her fork into the enchilada.
She isn’t looking at me anymore and I immediately know there’s way more to this story than she’s letting on. But I don’t push it, knowing what it’s like to have secrets you don’t want to share with anyone.
“Cool,” I reply, feigning indifference.
“Are you staying in Hawthorn?” she now asks.
“Dunno,” I say with a shrug. “We’ll see.”
“Do you think you’ll move back to Australia?”
Fuck me and these questions, which suddenly feel like they are veering dangerously close to territory I do not want to venture into.
“I don’t know,” I reply, exhaling. “One day, sure.”
Mila nods, turning to me now as she says, “How old are you?”
I burst out laughing at this one, taking another sip of my beer. “Twenty-eight.”
Her eyes widen in surprise as she mirrors the movement, taking a small sip of her beer. “Not quite daddy age,” she says with a smirk, before looking away.
I have to clench my jaw at the comment, fighting the stab of pain that lances through me. I know we were joking about it earlier, but right now, with that comment, daddy age, she has no idea how fucking hard it is to hear shit like that.
I take a deep breath, finishing off my beer as I once again change the subject. “So, what are you studying at uni?”
Mila laughs a little. “Uni, so cute,” she says, kicking my foot with hers. “I don’t know yet.”
I glance down at our bare feet, still brushing against each other and sending ripples of electricity up my leg. “What are you interested in?”
Mila shrugs. “I don’t know…I just can’t seem to pick something.”
I chuckle, pulling my foot away and resting it on the bottom rung of the stool. “What’s everyone else in your family do?”
Mila gives her tell-tale eye roll as she turns to me. “Dad’s a lawyer, Mom’s an exec at some finance company, Ruby’s studying counseling, so you know, all fucking high achievers.”
I burst out laughing, nudging her shoulder again. “Feeling the pressure?”
“Feeling like the family fuck up,” she mumbles, dropping her fork into the now empty container.
“Hey,” I say, noticing the sudden sadness in her eyes, “you’re not a fuck up, Mila,” I tell her. “You’re allowed to spend time deciding what you want to do with your life.”
She lets out a long exhale, stretching her arms up and over her head in a way that makes the bottom of her t-shirt rise up. I get a glimpse of bare skin above the waistband of her jeans and it takes everything I have in me not to lean down and lick it.
“I know, I just wish I could pick something,” she eventually says.
“Ok,” I say, tapping my fork against the empty food container. “Tell me what things you like to do, whatever it is, no matter how crazy it sounds.”
Mila gives me a look that screams are you fucking serious right now, making me
laugh.
“Come on stubborn arse, just do it.”
“Fine,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I like working with people. I like helping people and I like biology.”
I have to swallow the sudden lump in my throat, my voice stalling out at her words. Mila continues, oblivious to my brain freeze.
“I don’t want to be a shrink like Ruby though and I’m sure as shit not smart enough to be a doctor. So yeah, that leaves me blanking on the whole fucking career thing.”
I force myself to take a deep breath as I drop my fork and turn to face her. Mila eyes me suspiciously as though she isn’t sure what I’m going to say to her list.
“Well, that’s easy,” I eventually get out, hoping she doesn’t notice the catch in my voice.
“It is?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “Do nursing.”
“Nursing?” she repeats, her brows narrowed in confusion.
“Yeah,” I reply. “You’re working with people, helping them and you have to learn bio. Check, check, and check.”
Mila’s eyes search my face as she takes in my words. “You think?” she eventually asks, her words a low whisper.
“Yep,” I nod. “And if you need it, I can always help you.” The words are out before I even realize I’ve said them, and I instantly wish I could take them back.
“You could?” she asks, her eyes widening. “How? Why?”
I let out a long slow breath wondering if I haven’t just completely fucked up here. “Because I’m a nurse,” I eventually say.
Chapter Three
Mila
The way he announces that he’s a nurse grabs me for a split second. There’s something in his words, a desperation or a fear that clings to what he’s just said, but I don’t push it any further. It’s clear he isn’t interested in sharing how he now works at a bar instead. I know a thing or two about secrets and Adam Cooper has one.
But I wouldn’t dare pry. People share in good time, or maybe never, and it’s not my place to question why. I’m just here for some lighthearted fun. He’s the one who decided to drop a bombshell on me, so it’s time to move things back to flirting and surface level conversation.
But my mind keeps traveling back to what he said, making me want to know what makes him tick. And who moves around like that unless they’re trying to outrun something?
He’s smiling at me when I look up at him, a sweet, simple smile that lights up his face. He’s far too handsome for his own good with hazel eyes that seem to glow with flecks of gold and paired with all his charm, he’s a fucking catch.
“What?” I ask, returning his smile as I feel my heart begin to beat a little faster. I hate that I have this response to boys who are only here to ruin my life.
“You’re nothing like Ruby,” he responds, and my eyes roll so hard I swear they feel like they’re going to fall out.
“I get that a lot,” I shoot back, sounding far more annoyed than I should, but I’m tired of being compared to her.
She’s literally perfect in every single way and it stands out against my hot mess self. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this and while I know people don’t mean anything by it, I still feel insulted. The comparison sucks, and there’s no way I’ll ever be like Ruby. Not to say there’s anything wrong with her either, we’re just different people.
“I like that,” he adds, taking things up a notch, his fingers sliding across the counter to brush against mine. “Different has always been better in my book.”
He can’t say things like this to me, because it makes me want to cross the imaginary line I’ve set up for myself over the last few months.
I move my hand away from his, wrapping it around the bottle of beer, taking a sip, but holding it to my lips for a little longer, making it look like I’ve done more than just sip. I pick at the label, my fingernails slowly pulling back the paper wrapper in the hopes it bides me some time to come up with how to respond.
I’m good at flirting, I know this, but flirting leads to kissing and kissing leads to bedrooms and bedrooms lead to meaningless sex. It sucks because I used to love meaningless sex and I love a distraction. Adam Cooper is definitely a distraction.
“You want another beer?” he asks, not being weird at all about the underage drinking thing.
It’s a simple question, but not so easy to answer. Another beer isn’t just a drink. It’s not something to quench my thirst or something my body needs. Another beer means staying longer, it means more conversation, it means possibly getting buzzed and it totally means I may end up in Adam’s bed.
One answer, far too many scenarios and all things that are forcing me to be far more mature than I want to be. But if my past has taught me anything, it’s to say no, right now.
I’ve put myself in this situation and what I need to do now is leave.
“I think I’m gonna go,” I say, tilting my head in the direction of the door. “I’ve got class tomorrow and it’s getting kinda late.” I feel a steady panic build as I replay my own words in my head. I know I should leave, and hopefully I can. I look down at my watch so I don’t have to look at his face. Seeing his beautiful eyes, all fucking intense and soulful, will make me want to stay.
“You been going to class?” he asks, but there’s no judgment in his question. It’s posed with more concern than anything.
“I mean, sorta,” I reply, sounding like a complete idiot. Adam laughs, standing up and following me over to the door.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I plan on going starting tomorrow, but I haven’t been...yet.” I drag out the last part; the wording is everything.
“Go declare that major and start kicking ass,” he says, reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear. He might as well light me on fire because just the simple brush of his fingers against my skin sends me into a tailspin. I hate that my body is constantly at war with my brain, but it’s exactly what I need to tell my ass to get moving back to my own apartment.
“Okay, Tony Robbins, you got it,” I tease him, reaching over to pat him on the chest, but as soon as my hand touches him, he backs away. Drawing in a ragged breath, he shakes his head a little. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, not realizing that me touching him would draw that kind of response. I look down at my feet, not wanting to meet his eyes, embarrassed that I made him uncomfortable. I should know better. “I’m gonna go.”
I reach for the doorknob, but Adam’s palm lands flat against the door with a small thud causing me to turn and look at him. That panic I felt earlier returns, my heart beating hard against my ribs, and I’m sure my eyes are wide as I take in his face.
“No, it’s me who should be sorry,” he says, stepping closer to me and closing the distance that he created when I touched him. “I don’t know why I...” He stops short, reaching down to take my hand in his.
With our fingers laced together and my skin absolutely on fire, he leans down and presses his lips to the side of my neck. I feel like I should be scared, that I should grab for the door, but there’s something about Adam that radiates comfort and safety. My pulse is thumping hard and fast, his lips dangerously close to feeling exactly what he’s doing to me. But there’s so much simplicity in his gesture, yet it’s still so innately sexual. Now it’s me who feels like I should shy away, my heart racing for so many different reasons, I’m not even sure my brain can figure out what’s happening.
“Good night, Mila,” he murmurs, his tongue dragging across my pulse as he pulls away. Biting down hard on my bottom lip to stifle the moan I so desperately want to let loose, and Adam’s eyes watch my mouth.
“Thanks,” I respond, opening the door to his apartment. “Now I’m gonna have to go rub one out in my bed before I can fall asleep.”
I have no idea why I say that. I’m starting to think this is just who I am: the girl with no filter. Or maybe I’ve just been living with Charlie too long and picki
ng up on her bad habits. I don’t want to lead him on, but that’s exactly what I plan on doing. What I am doing.
“Don’t say things like that to me,” Adam growls, shaking his head slowly, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Why? Because I’m too young?”
“No, because you’re not too young and I...” He doesn’t finish his thought, just shakes his head again. “Good night, Mila.”
“Good night, Adam.”
I’m still reeling the next morning when my alarm goes off at seven. I stare up at the ceiling, the fan letting off a methodic hum as it spins, only adding to the noise inside my head. Our conversation by the door of Adam’s apartment plays out over and over in my mind, thinking of all the things I could’ve said and if I should’ve just closed the door behind me and kissed him.
“Mila!” Charlie’s voice calls out, her hand slapping against my door. “You up?”
“Yeah, what?” I call back, dragging my ass from the bed to open the door. She’s standing there, a smirk on her face, dressed in a pair of leggings and a tiny tank.
“Wanna go to the gym with me before class? You are going, right?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m going to class and yes, I’ll go to the gym with you. Give me five to change.”
But Charlie doesn’t leave; she flops down on my bed, waiting for me to share the details of what happened with Adam last night. She’s nosy as hell, but I would totally be doing the same thing if it were her.
“So,” she starts, trying to be stealthy and it makes me laugh.
“Nothing happened,” I respond immediately.
“Seriously? Nothing? Nothing at all?”
“Shit, Charlie, don’t sound so defeated. But yeah, nothing. We had a couple of beers, talked for a little bit. He helped me decide on a major and then I left.” It’s really just as simple as that if you don’t include that point where he made out with my neck.
“Wait, you were hanging out with a university guidance counselor last night, not Adam?”
