It’s a little over one week since Reid and I first went to bed together, and we’ve been at it like horny teenagers ever since.
It’s just so… normal. Like, good normal—not boring normal.
We hang out, read, edit, watch TV, drink coffee… and have sex. The naked thing feels as natural as the rest. Reid is killer in bed. I love that. I’m not the sort of person to hide in the background, but when it comes to sex, I love a guy to be in control. Most of the time.
I also like it when I push him down and pounce.
Reid has no trouble keeping up. He’s never ‘too full’ or ‘too tired’ for me. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve only just started sleeping together or if it’s because he has a sex drive similar to mine, but I want it to continue.
I’ve just finished uni for the day, and I’m now driving home. It dragged like a motherfucker. All I want to do is go back to Wilson Press, but I have to wait until Mel calls.
This afternoon, I’m doing nothing but watching Netflix. It’s been so long since I’ve chilled on the sofa. After uni, I’ve been going straight to Reid’s on the days he’s home, or I’ve hung around with my mum until Reid got home from the office.
Isn’t it healthy to have some alone time?
Healthy sucks.
I stop at the same traffic lights again because some twat in front of me didn’t put their foot down. We both could have got through there, dickhead.
Taking a breath, I try to think happy thoughts, like the smell of rain and the look in Reid’s eyes when he’s turned on.
My car won’t fare well if I ram this idiot in front of me.
The lights change again, and we’re finally off.
Mum is home when I pull into the drive. Her Mercedes is shiny clean. I think she loves it more than her children. Apparently, it was her gift to herself when we’d all grown up, when we would stop leaving crumbs in it.
Reid’s not at his place, but he wouldn’t be back for another thirty minutes, anyway.
“Mum?” I call when I let myself in the house.
“Kitchen!”
I find Mum at the breakfast bar with a bottle of white wine open.
“You know it’s only four, right?”
“Four is the new five, darling. Want a glass?”
“I wasn’t judging.”
I get myself a glass, and she pours the wine, filling it almost to the top.
“How was uni?”
I tell her a little about my day and how much I’m still enjoying the course but prefer working at the publishing house. I tell her how much I miss it, and she tells me about her day. It’s been a while since we’ve shared a drink together.
“I’ll be glad when I’m done with uni.”
“Then you just have to find a way of making money and not flopping.”
“Yeah, thanks, Mum.”
She laughs. “I’m kidding. You’re really getting your life together, ditching that limp dick and working hard.”
“Did you just call Liam a limp dick?”
“Oh, you know he was. Nice enough boy but a floater. He would sail through life, eating the same set meals each day, having sex on a Friday and Sunday, and getting his hair trimmed every four weeks, on the dot.”
I shake my head. We rarely had sex on a Friday. “All right, I’ll give you that. He wasn’t very exciting.”
“Watching mould grow on that loaf of bread your dad still hasn’t thrown out is more exciting than him, love.”
“I said I get it. We’re done now, Mum.”
“I know. Now you can find someone who is crazy about you and treats you properly. Your dad and I have no patience for another Liam. The next man in your life will need to meet our approval.”
“Sorry, did I turn thirteen again?”
“You didn’t have a boyfriend when you were thirteen.”
My back straightens. “Right. No, I didn’t.”
“Mila Thomas! Who was he?”
I laugh around the rim of the glass, grateful I haven’t yet taken a sip or I would have ended up spraying the kitchen with Pino Grigio.
“Benji.”
“Benjamin Martin? The kid down the street?”
“Yeah.”
“Good thing they moved away or your brothers would have beaten him up.”
I roll my eyes. “They’re ridiculous.”
“You don’t know how many times I’ve had to stop Hugo from knocking on Liam’s door.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that again.”
She goes on to tell me how much she’s looking forward to my graduation next year. I think that’s code for ‘move out next year, too’. I’ll be ready by then.
“What’s that noise? Oh no, the bloody wine fridge has gone again.” She gets up and walks around the island, as if she knows exactly what to do with any household appliance.
“And what do you think you’re going to do?” I ask, craning my neck to see over the side. “You remember that time you tried to fix the washing machine and pulled the door off, right?”
“Yes, thank you. I think it’s just the plug at the back. I had your dad pull it from under the counter so I could clean the top, but I think he pulled it too far. If I can get it out, I can push the plug… save the wine.”
“We should drink all of the wine now. I’ll do that for you.”
“God, this thing won’t budge. Help me, Mila, will you?”
“Sure, I’ll just enable my Thor strength and get right on that.”
It took two men to get that thing in here when she had the double width wine fridge installed.
“Mum, we’re not going to be able to do this, and I had a manicure recently.”
“The wine is warming as we speak, Mila.”
“You have another fridge!”
“I gave you life. Can you not move a fridge for me?”
I walk around the island, taking with me the knowledge that we’re about to fail. If the big, burly men from Curry’s almost popped a muscle getting it in there, what chance do we have?
“Mum, let me get Reid.”
Her head pops up over the counter like she’s a meerkat. “Now, why would you get Reid?”
It was risky, I knew that. The mere mention of his name gets her hysterical. There’s this look in her eyes. She’d tell me that’s she interested. Bloody interested. As if I don’t know her definition of that word.
She’s already planned the wedding. June, so she can wear a classy, knee-length dress, and have nice photos in the venue’s gardens.
It’ll be my future husband’s job to tell her I want to go abroad and get married on a beach.
“He can help us,” I say. “He’ll be home before Dad.”
“What a great idea. You go get him.”
There it is. Instant regret. I should have kept him away from her.
Two visits in a few weeks and she’s going to ramp up the wedding talk.
“He should be home now.”
“Good thing you know his schedule.”
“I don’t know his schedule. He finishes work at the same time every day.”
She beams. “I’m sure he does.”
“He does! People have set hours. That’s a thing, Mum.”
She laughs as I walk away.
Fuck’s sake.