Page 42

“I can practically hear your thoughts racing, Amelia,” he says suddenly, and I realise he knows it’s me. Duh, who else would it be? Smooth move, brain.

I laugh nervously. Well, at least he didn’t hear the circus going on in my head. Yet.

“You gonna sit? Because if you’re gonna just stand there, you might as well leave,” he quips, his tone abrupt.

My goodness. Way to make me feel welcome, Bradley.

“What is up your ass today?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He turns his head slightly, slowly, his eyes sweeping over me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Great, now I’ve probably offended him.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he sighs. “Please, sit.” He gestures to the chair beside him. “Sorry, I’m being a dick,” he adds.

I slowly sink into the chair next to him, feeling his gaze lingering on me the whole time. Eventually, we settle into silence, and I find myself enjoying the peace. The birds chirping loudly around us drown out any lingering thoughts, and being outside in nature’s embrace feels surprisingly serene. So, I close my eyes, soaking in all the sounds with a deep sigh.

“Are you... good?” Bradley’s voice cuts through the quiet, with a hint of amusement.

“Are you?” I respond, keeping my eyes shut.

“Touché.” He chuckles softly.

Opening my eyes, I gaze up at the tall trees above us, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. “What are you—”

“Shh... Just look up and take a moment to appreciate theleaves,” I gently interrupt.

He clears his throat. “The leaves?”

“Yes, Brad. Shh.” We lapse back into silence.

“Listen to the birds, just breathe in the air,” I continue after a pause. “I do this sometimes when my thoughts are racing, or when I feel overwhelmed.”

I wonder if his thoughts are always racing like mine sometimes do. There’s so much I know about him, yet so little at the same time. Over the years, I’ve noticed little quirks of his—how he always straightens his watchband when he’s lost in thought, meticulously adjusting it until it’s perfectly aligned. Or the way he slightly tilts his head when he’s listening intently to someone, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, as if he’s trying to absorb every word.

There’s this faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he’s amused, like he’s trying not to smile too widely. Even the way he pauses before answering questions, like he’s carefully considering his words, reveals layers I haven’t fully unravelled. There’s also how he taps his foot impatiently when he’s waiting, or how he subtly clenches his jaw when he seems frustrated. Like right now, as I watch him sitting on the chair, his brows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched, clearly showing his frustration.

“My thoughts aren’t racing, though,” he counters, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

“Yeah, and I’m a unicorn,” I retort, a playful jab lacing my words.

Bradley chuckles softly, the tension between us easing slightly.

I can’t help but smile, hearing that sound. It’s likea rare glimpse of a softer side of him, a side that’s usually hidden behind his gruff exterior.

“Alright, just stare at the leaves, or close your eyes if you prefer, and focus on your breathing. In and out,” I instruct gently, keeping my eyes fixed on the trees above.

His presence beside me is like a comforting warmth on a chilly day, but I resist the urge to steal a glance, my nerves fluttering like trapped butterflies in my stomach.

“Are your thoughts racing? Feeling overwhelmed?” he asks quietly after a moment.

“No,” I reply softly.Lies.“I’m doing this for you.”

“For me?” he echoes, surprised.

“Yes. Just try it,” I urge gently.

As the sounds of just birds and the rustling of leaves fill the air, a warm breeze sweeps over me, bringing a sense of calm.

“Is it working?” I ask in a hushed tone, barely audible above the rustling leaves. He doesn’t reply right away, and when I start to turn my head to meet his gaze, I find his eyes already locked on mine.