Page 106 of Quiet Longing

About an hour later, my phone buzzed with a text.

Charli: Maeve’s been shooting me some aggressive side eye since you dropped off that folder.

Guilt nagged at me. Maybe I should’ve just emailed her the list of properties instead.

Me: Sorry. Would you prefer if I don’t stop by your office anymore?

Charli: No way! You’re my coworker and friend. You’re allowed to come talk to me. Maeve shall just have to get over it I’m afraid.

I smiled at her reply as I typed back.

Me: That’s my girl.

It was only after I hit send I realised how Charli might construe my phrasing. I hadn’t meant it as a possessive statement even if I did have a lot of old feelings stirring for her. When she didn’t write anything back, I worried I might’ve inadvertently said the wrong thing, so I tried a new subject.

Me: I can drop by on Saturday and drive you to the viewings if you’d like?

Charli: Oh, that’s not necessary. You’d be driving so far out of your way. Could we meet at the first property instead? I’d still like you with me so that you can chime in on the location, etc.

I pressed a finger to my chin, wanting to say I didn’t mind driving out of my way for her, but again, I was worried about coming on too strong.

Me: Of course. I’ll let you know the schedule as soon as Janice sends it.

Charli: Thanks, Rhys. You’re the best :-)

For some reason, the little smiley face got to me. If her meltdown in the restaurant on Friday was anything to go by, she’d been through a lot the past few years. Hell, she’d been through a lot for over a decade. It was why I liked being able to make her smile even in text form.

I wanted to make her smile every time I saw her.

29.

Charli

That’s my girl.

I read his text more times than I could count, a fluttery feeling in my belly every time I imagined Rhys saying it in his deep Irish accent. In the end, I had to force myself to stop because I liked him referring to me as “his girl” far too much, but he’d obviously meant it in an encouraging, friendly way.

On Saturday morning, he was already there when I arrived to the first apartment. It was an open viewing, and there was a line of about fifty people ahead of us. His friend Janice had scheduled the open viewings for the morning and would be meeting us after lunch to show us around a few places privately. But if this was the current demand for rental properties, I worried I was going to have a tough time finding a place.

“Oh man, this doesn’t bode well,” I said as I reached Rhys and casually slid my arm through his. The more time I spent around him, the more comfortable I’d been getting, and lately, I couldn’t resist touching him in small ways. I craved his nearness. It was a big change to how I’d been only a couple weeks ago when I’d first arrived. I’d been anxious and tended to give most people a wide berth, especially men. But I didn’t hesitate for even a second to get close to Rhys. After how gentle and understanding he’d been when I’d broken down at the restaurant opening, he’d certainly earned my trust. I felt safe with him.

I wondered if he’d noticed the shift in me.

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting my hand as his gaze wandered over my cheeks that were a little flushed from the cold, the wind blowing tendrils of hair across my face. “You’re in no rush. We’ll find you somewhere eventually.”

His warm, reassuring tone did something funny to my chest.

“I really like this place though,” I said, trying to distract myself from the butterflies that swarmed my belly whenever he touched me. “I was looking through the pictures, and the apartment is super cute. Plus, the neighbourhood seems cool.”

“It is a cool neighbourhood,” he agreed, his attention wandering over the people lined ahead of us as well as those gathering behind. There was a tense, stressed out atmosphere amongst the prospective tenants that was beginning to infect me, too. Sensing my tension, Rhys brought his hand to mine again, placing his palm over my knuckles and giving a soft squeeze.

“Relax, okay? Today is for seeing what’s out there and getting the lay of the land. No pressure.”

“No pressure,” I repeated, nodding to myself just as the line began to move.

It was almost an hour before we got to go inside, and even then, we were only allowed a cursory look around before a harassed looking woman took my details and said she’d be in touch.

“I have a feeling she’snotgoing to be in touch,” I commented wryly as Rhys gently pressed his hand to my lower back and guided me out of the building.

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