Page 58 of The Reality of Us
“Sure,” she said.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The spark in his chest became a full flame.
The five-minute walk back to the apartment was like swimming through honey. A few cars passed them, their headlights lighting up the footpath before disappearing around the bend towards Somers Gully. The air was humming, charged with something that wasn’t there when she was with anyone else. Something equally exciting and terrifying.
“I spoke to Phoenix’s lawyer today,” Owen said.
The energy in the air dipped, weighed down by her past. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground. So, this was what Owen wanted to talk about. “What did he say?”
“Phoenix wants a meeting with you once he’s out on bail.”
Rocks crunched under their feet as they walked down the driveway to the car park behind the office. “Did he say why?”
“Nope.”
She stopped. It had to be the photos. There was no other explanation. “What happens if I refuse?”
Owen paused, the bright white lights from the security lights making his features seem more angular. It also made the shadows under his eyes more pronounced, and her heart thumped against her ribs. She wasn’t the only one who’d lost sleep since the night they were together.
He stepped towards her, close enough that she could smell the masculine scent that had inspired her new candle. “Nothing happens,” he said. “You don’t have to go, but if you did, I’d go with you.”
It was his earnest tone that did her in. Alice pushed her chin forward, one last defence. Asked the question that had to be answered before anything else could happen. “Because you’re my lawyer? I thought you’d be quitting on me after …”
Owen’s eyes darkened at the accusation. He stepped closer, set his bags down, not noticing when one tipped over. A cushion flopped onto the gravel driveway, narrowly missing a puddle from the earlier rain. “Is that what you want? For me to find you someone else?”
She shrugged nonchalantly, but it was pointless. Owen’s gaze never left hers. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, her words as feeble sounding as she felt. Playing chicken with Owen had bad idea written all over it. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She watched as his lips parted, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip.
“I think you do,” he said.
She was shocked to see wariness in his eyes, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth when she didn’t reply. “What do you want, Alice?”
You, she thought, but he wouldn’t make this easy for her. Had she, gulp, hurt him by ignoring him? Alice wasn’t used to telling people what she wanted. Even less so, having them listen to her. “What do you want?” she parroted back.
He stepped towards her, a big hand cupping her jaw. Damn her reflexes for immediately nuzzling into his touch. She’d been lying to herself about how greedy she was for more of it.
“I want whatever you want,” he said.
A soundless laugh escaped her, his other hand landing on her hip. “What does that even mean?” she whispered.
He stepped closer, pushing her back against the brick wall behind her. “You set the rules here.”
“Rules?”
“If you say I’m your lawyer, I’m your lawyer. If I’m something else, I’m something else. Doesn’t have to be one or the other. I’m working on being flexible, remember? Changing my ways.”
The intensity of his gaze stole her breath. “What about your policy against being involved with clients?”
His thumb caressed her cheek. “Maybe it needs to be updated, just for you. No one else.”
“You’ll go along with whatever I say? Play it fast and loose? You’re a planner. I bet you separate your whites from your colours.”
She could tell he was fighting a smile.
“You don’t?” he asked.
Alice snorted. “I chuck it all in and hope for the best.”
Maybe she should do that now: hope for the best.
