Page 98 of Love, Academically
It was colder today and he zipped up his jacket and turned up his collar against the wind. Dodging annoyingly happy couples out for a Sunday morning stroll, with pushchairs and children, was obviously not what he wanted to be doing right now.
Fuck.
Lila’s surprised face, the O of her plump lips, the awkward way she’d picked at her food. Yeah, he’d fucked this up good and proper. He should have left well enough alone. Lila had said that she wasn’t looking for a relationship and here he was, just likeJason, running roughshod over her decisions. Stopping in the middle of the pavement, he pinched the bridge of his nose. For fuck’s sake.
“Rhys!”
Whipping around, his eyes focused on her, because they always focused on her. Sidestepping a dog on a lead, Lila was a little manic, with her floral coat flying around her, wisps of her hair caught in the wind. She really needed a better hairspray or hair tie or whatever.
“Rhys,” she wheezed, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I cannot believe you made me run. I don’t run.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips.Evidently.
“Well?” she said, hands on her hips. “I’ve runall thisway. Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
“Is that what you want?”
It had to be her choice. It had to be what she wanted, not just to make him happy.
She stood up to her full height (which wasn’t very tall at all), flushed either from the ‘exercise’ of running twenty metres, the bite of the autumn wind, or from asking him to kiss her.
“I, Lila Cartwright,” she put her hand on her chest, “take you, Rhys Aubrey, to be my boyfriend.”
A smile spread across his lips, because Lila was nothing if not dramatic. He couldn’t bring himself to care that people were giving them funny looks or tugging their children away from their spectacle.
“But,” she jabbed him in the chest with a finger, “we are notcallingyou my boyfriend. It’s too much for me, I can’t have that label. I know you need that clarity, the specifics and that’s fine, but after…”
Lila trailed off, an uncharacteristic line again between her eyes, pleading with him to understand. Which he did.
“Yes.” Rhys worked his hand at gently unclenching her smallfist and flattened her palm against his chest. She took a tentative step forward.
“And,” her voice was almost a whisper. “You have to be careful with me. You can’t hide things from me. I make my own decisions.”
Jesus, Jason had really done a number on her. What a prick. “Yes. Of course, yes.”
He reached for her, sliding his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders.
Kissing Lila was the best thing. Softly, with promise. The rumble of traffic didn’t exist anymore, neither did the woman tutting loudly about their PDA, or the crying child in the pram. The only thing that was real was the softness of Lila’s lips against his, the way her hair caught in his fingers.
“Yes,” he said.
Lila
They spent the rest of the day together. Rhys introduced her to his dreary, immaculate grey flat and she fully understood how her house both horrified him and filled him with some strange sense of wonder. Like a bruise that you couldn’t stop touching.
It was depressingly cold in his flat. Functional and perfect, but just so… impersonal. The sofa was more of a punishment for believing you could sit down rather than a hug made of fabric and there were certainly no blankets to be seen anywhere. It was even tough on her skin as Rhys bent her over the arm of it to thrust into her, gripping her bum hard enough to leave a mark.
He hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself as he showed her his black and white galley kitchen, pushing the fabric of her knickers aside so he could gently massage her clit, pressing his front to her back. He had made her come with a sharp pinch to her nipple.
She hadn’t been this horny, or felt thiswantedsince – well, ever.
Rhys circled his thumb on the softness of the inside of her wrist, his fingers slid down the back of her arm, kisses dropped behind her ear.
“Can I pick you up in the morning for work?” Rhys asked.
It was Sunday night and they were back at her house, and she was close to falling asleep in the blanket cocoon Rhys had made for her on the sofa. She hadn’t asked him to stay and he hadn’t assumed. Gentle, careful and slow. That’s what she kept repeating to herself. Don’t rush, don’t go all in, because what if, what if, what if. It already felt that they were free falling too fast to grab onto any tree branches on the way down, probably because of all the time they’d spent together getting ready for his family thing.
“You don’t have to.” She leaned in to kiss him quickly on the lips.
