Page 60 of The Assist
“But it still can’t happen again.”
That punches a hole straight through my chest. “Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter how good it felt, or how much I want it. What matters is what comes after. The looks. The whispers. The questions about whether I slept my way into this job.”
I turn to her then, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You think I’d let anyone talk about you like that?”
She shakes her head, her eyes are fierce but sad. “It wouldn’t be about what you’d let happen. It’d be about what theythink.And I can’t control that.”
I lean my head back against the seat, trying to catch my breath.
She opens the door, rain drizzling lightly now, and hesitates before stepping out. “I meant what I said on the coach,” she says softly, looking back at me. “This job is everything. But that doesn’t mean you’re nothing.”
And with that, she closes the door behind her.
I sit there momentarily watching her walk towards her front door, staring after her like some lovesick idiot. Like a guy who just got hit by a puck straight to the heart and doesn’t know how to breathe anymore. Because she meant that. And somehow, it hurts worse than if she hadn’t.
The moment over takes me and without thinking, I jump out of the car and follow her up the path. Mia glances over her shoulder, and there’s a gentle hint of smile as she turns to unlock the door. “I suppose I owe you a coffee, and you do need to call that friend of yours to get my car towed.” She pushes the door open and stands to the side, allowing me to pass her.
I nod quickly, as I wipe my feet on the mat. “Coffee would be good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DYLAN
Mia’s flat has a comforting aroma of coffee and lavender. It’s a weird combination, but somehow it suits her. Warm but clean and a little sharp around the edges.
I follow her inside, half-soaked from the rain, my trainers squeaking faintly against the wooden floor. She disappears into the kitchen, dropping her coat over the back of a chair, and I hover awkwardly in the doorway, unsure if I’m supposed to sit, stand, or evaporate.
She’s a little too quiet.
I rub the back of my neck and glance around the small space. The sofa has a folded blanket draped just so, everywhere is neat and tidy. Photos in mismatched frames sit on a narrow shelf; one of her and a woman who looks just like her but older, probably her mum. Another of her and a short grinning girl with curly hair and a bottle of wine between them; Sophie.
It’s her. This whole place feels like Mia. Thoughtful and practical. No clutter, just purpose. Like she doesn’t let herself get too comfortable, even in her own home.
“You can sit down, you know.” Her voice drifts in from the kitchen, a little sharper than necessary.
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Right.”
I drop onto the edge of the sofa like it’s going to bite me. Rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the floor while she clinks mugs around and starts the kettle. I shouldn’t be here. She didn’t reallyinviteme in, not properly. It just happened.
And now she’s second-guessing it. I can feel it in the air.
She walks in with two mugs a minute later and hands me one without meeting my eye. Her fingers brush mine, and I feel it like a goddamn lightning bolt. I grip the mug tighter and take a sip, just to have something to do.
She sits opposite me on the armchair. Legs crossed, mug cradled in both hands like a shield. We’re quiet for a long beat. The rain patters lightly against the window, and I can hear the hum of her fridge and the soft tick of the clock above her TV.
I should say something. I should break the tension. But she does it first. “I shouldn’t have let you in.”
My stomach drops. I nod slowly. “I know.”
She swallows, allowing her eyes to flick up to mine. “But I didn’t want you to leave.”
It’s a huge turnaround from the speech she gave me in the car a few moments ago and it hits harder than I expect. I shift forward, my elbows still on my knees. “You think I don’t get it, but I do, Mia. You’ve got more to lose than I do if this goes wrong.”
She flinches at that, just barely, but it’s there.
“But what if itdoesn’tgo wrong?” I say quietly.
