Page 40 of Handle with Care
Then we all stand smiling at each other like my awkwardness is catching, like say a touch of plague.
“Right.” I carefully take the box with the print inside, now that Tessa’s finished packing it up after our earlier inspection. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.”
Before I say anything rash or worse, actually do something rash, we head out into the sunny afternoon to the waiting Land Rover, parked in front of her mews home and studio on a secret London side street. Will opens the back and secures the box in place with care. Then we both notice we’re standing shoulder to shoulder, not quite touching.
And I think he’s actually blushing.
“It’s hot out,” I blurt.
“Very hot out,” agrees Will, looking unusually shy. But he gazes at me, and this time, he doesn’t look away.
Is he actually flirting with me? Well, shit.
Act smooth, Dylan.
“You could get sunstroke like that,” I say. “Probably not great for migraines.”
“Probably not,” he agrees.
“Maybe we need to cool off.”
Then we shuffle, me suddenly fascinated by my fingernails, and him busying himself with closing the back of the Land Rover. When we’re inside, Will flips on the air conditioner, which isn’t quite what I was I hoping for in terms of cooling off. I pretend to study something fascinating on my phone, which is Russell’s text that he’s out with mates after work and I’m welcome to join. I debate texting regrets because I’ll be doing something with Will involving ice cubes or ice cream and?—
“Dylan?”
“Yeah?” I practically jump, definitely flushed now. I drop my hand to my lap with the phone and give him a sidelong glance. Will stares straight ahead.
“I’d, er, suggest we go for a drink after work. But I have something to attend to.” Is it my imagination, or does he look genuinely disappointed?
“Right.” My shoulders sag ever so slightly before I catch myself. “I was hoping for ice cream, actually.”
“Dylan?” he asks again.
“Yeah?”
“I… I feel we should keep things professional…” Will says, unable to look at me. “But…”
“But?” I glance over for real this time as he holds on to the wheel. He hasn’t started driving yet. Charli XCX sings in the background while the air-conditioning whirs.
He draws in a slow breath. “I’m admittedly attracted to you.”
Before my brain has a chance to ruin the moment, I grin broadly at him. “Is that your way of saying you like me?”
Will blushes for real then. His mouth opens, then shuts. “Er, I probably shouldn’t have said that. Especially since we need to keep things above board.”
“Right. Professional.” I nod, but my heart’s thundering more loudly than the song that plays. “Totally professional.”
“Yes.”
“Will.”
“Yes?”
“I’m admittedly attracted to you too.” And I’m rewarded by him daring to glance over at me despite his death grip on the wheel.
“You are?”
