Dad, Callum, and I get the drinks and take them into the pub’s conservatory.
Mila is laughing with Phoebe when we approach the table.
“Reid, your sister was telling me about the time she hid your Lord of the Rings book and you cried.”
“Was she now?”
Phoebe presses her lips together and shrugs.
“Oh, I think it’s cute. If anyone touched my books, I’d scratch their face off,” Mila says.
“God, Reid, marry her,” Callum jokes. “No other woman is going to get your book obsession.”
“Plenty of women would, believe me,” Mila replies. She scoots over on the bench so I can sit down.
Callum shakes his head. “Weird.”
Mila turns to my sister. “You married a non-reader, Phoebe?”
“He has abs.”
“Got it.”
Dad scowls and turns to Lexie. I don’t know why he’s going there. The baby is undeniable proof that they sleep together.
“Happy birthday,” Mila says, clinking her prosecco glass against my beer.
“Thank you.”
She holds my gaze, and just when I think she’s about to come to me, Mum calls her.
Mila bites her lip, as though holding something in. At least she’s thinking about what she says around my parents. Not that I would care, but she would want to die if something inappropriate slipped out.
“What was it like working with Reid?” Mum asks.
She puts her drink down. “Oh my gosh, he’s so bossy.”
I roll my eyes, and the girls continue their conversation.
“Got your vest for tomorrow, pretty boy?” Callum asks, lifting his pale eyebrow.
“No, have you?”
“One year, we’ll have to do it for a joke.”
“Dad will have a fit. Let’s do it for your birthday in the spring.”
He nods. “Are you bringing Mila tomorrow?”
I’ve said she can come, but she’s not giving me a definitive answer yet. Plus, she’s currently listing every example of how I’m bossy in the workplace.
I bet she’s also making a mental list about how bossy I am in the bedroom.
“I’m not sure yet. She doesn’t know what the girls are doing.” Mila’s head is slightly tilted towards me, like she’s keeping tabs on my conversation with Callum as well as talking to Mum.
Callum snorts. “She’ll definitely not come to whack a tiny ball when she does.”
“What is happening?” Mila asks.
“Finished bitching about me?”
“Midway. I’ll continue in a minute. I heard you talking about tomorrow.” Mum and Phoebe laugh. “What’s my other option? You seem to think that it’ll be better than golf.”
“Oh, it’s undoubtedly better than golf. Phoebe and I are going to the spa. You’re welcome to join us. In fact, we’d love it if you ditched Reid to come with us.”
I bet Mum would love that. She’s just waiting for her chance to get Mila alone so she can pounce. I cringe at the thought of Mum’s less than subtle questions she must be dying to ask.
Mila’s eyes light up. “I’m not golfing, Reid.”
“No? What changed your mind?”
“Technically, I hadn’t made my mind up yet.”
“The spa sells cocktails,” Phoebe adds.
“There is absolutely no chance of me going to golf.”
“I’m so shocked. You’re going to have a hangover tomorrow and not want to drink.”
She shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing how much you underestimate me.”
“We’ll see.”
To be honest, she’s probably right. Mila mostly bounces back after a night out. I can’t wait to see her hungover in ten years’ time.
“Want to play?” Callum asks, holding up a football.
“Where did that come from?”
“One of Lexie’s bags.”
“Are you serious, Callum? That’s why I could barely fit her spare clothes in?” Phoebe scolds, waving her hand around.
“We always play ball.”
“You usually carry it!”
I put my beer down, squeezing Mila’s shoulder as I get up. “Don’t think I’m going easy on you.”
“Easy on me? Are you kidding? I’ll wipe the floor with you, Walker.”
“Fighting talk for a man who tripped over it last year and almost broke his ankle.”
Mila laughs.
“I didn’t nearly break anything!”
“You sat down for five minutes and massaged it. I thought you were going to cry.”
Callum scowls. “Rematch. Right now.”
“I’ve got time to beat you,” I reply, taking one more swig of beer.
I make the mistake of looking at Mila in that moment. Her wide eyes are full of emotion, her thick lips parted in wonder.
I swallow so I don’t choke, and then I walk away from her, knowing that the farthest I’ll be able to leave her from this moment on is a few metres.