Page 27 of Love, Academically
Lila massaged her hands as he drove. The five minutes it had taken to get to the car park were the longest of her life (well, not really, but still). Her palms burned. Perhaps she had some blanket fabric at home to wrap around the handles to make them softer. All the better if it was rainbow sparkly.
Rhys obviously didn’t feel the need to talk and turned the radio up a couple of notches from a button on his steeringwheel. Nothing so dull as a knob on the dash for Rhys Aubrey. It was some kind of politics talk show, with a bonging clock to signify changes in topic. His dark eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he listened, making a ‘hmm’ noise in agreement every now and again. He was still in his shirt sleeves. He’d literally dropped everything at the office to look after her.
“Rhys.” She put her hand lightly on the bend of his elbow. He glanced at her. “Thank you for today.”
“Yep. I’ll have to pick you up in the morning.”
“I appreciate it and I’ll make it up to you. I can bake cookies!”
Rhys didn’t quite laugh, but she’d take that little curve of his lips as a win.
It was about twenty minutes in traffic before Lila directed Rhys down into the new build estate and onto her little cul-de-sac.
“You can park in the driveway,” she said, indicating Petunia’s parking space. “Don’t hit my plant pots.”
He gave her a disdainful side-eye, as if questioning his driving skill was sacrilegious. She pushed down a smile because Rhys wasn’t half as scary as he thought he was.
Opening the car door, she swung her legs out, hovering her injured one just above the ground as she levered herself up, securing her handbag over her shoulder. Lila took two tentative shuffle hops and waited for Rhys to appear with her crutches. Instead, he rounded the car and swept her up in his arms. Again.
His jaw ticked with effort, and dark smudges had appeared under his eyes.
“Rhys, it’s literally four steps. Pass me my crutches,” she protested, but making absolutely no move to get him to put her down. She could get used to this.
“Lila, those four steps will take you half an hour and I can’t cope with the slowness.” He stopped at her front door for her to dig her keys out of her handbag. Tissues, pens, book, phone, oh that’s where that nail varnish was, ah, keys.
“Okay,” she said, but he didn’t put her down.
Rhys marched her into her tiny house, right into the open-plan room on the right and plopped her on the sofa, wiggling his arms out from under her. He angled the ottoman so she could rest her ankle on it and pulled a blanket with a unicorn on it onto her lap. There was something strange but comforting about Rhys helping her, trying to get the unicorn blanket just right. She pressed her lips together and frowned to keep the giggle from coming out.
“Stay here, I’ll get your crutches.”
She could not sit there in her work stuff. Having a sprained ankle and sitting on the sofa called for warm, comfy lounging clothes and her house wasn’tthatbig. Throwing off the blanket, Lila hobbled her way to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out some fleecy bottoms and an Oodie from the tumble dryer. She lowered herself gingerly to the floor and wriggled out of her work trousers, shoving them in the washing machine and dragging on the softest bottoms ever made.
The front door slammed.
“Where are you? The fish and chips have arrived,” Rhys called from the front room, the sharp tang of vinegar (double, just as she liked it) filling the house.
“Don’t come in the hallway. I’m getting changed!” Oodies were the best things ever invented, but a little unwieldy and who knew having a sprained ankle was so debilitating? Finally, she levered herself up from the floor and shuffle-hopped back to the living room.
“I’m not even going to ask why you’re getting changed in the hallway.”
Rhys stood behind the sofa, clutching the bag of fish and chips. “Can I move now?”
He was such a drama queen.
Not waiting for an answer, he headed for the kitchen.Grumpy, conker-assed Rhys Aubrey-Dallimore definitely needed something to eat.
Lila positioned herself on the sofa (leg up) and foundAn Officer and a Gentlemanto buy for £5.49 on Amazon Prime. So worth it. How had Rhys gotten to his mid-thirties without seeing Richard Gere and Debra Winger in this 1980smasterpiece?
“Here.” Rhys reappeared as the opening credits came on, putting a tray of fish and chips on her lap. “I’ve left the gravy on the side for you, because chips and gravy is an abomination.”
“Abomination? You wound me, Mr Aubrey.”
Rhys sat next to her, a tea towel across his knees so he didn’t get his trousers greasy. Bless him.
“What is this?” He gestured vaguely to the TV with a chip.
“Since you are a heathen, I thoughtAn Officer and a Gentlemanwould be essential viewing to start your education.”
