Page 8 of Love, Academically

Yeah, it didn’t matter what Lila thought of him, whether she was just after his money or not, because they weren’t dating. They weren’t even friends, not really. This was just a business arrangement.

“Who?” Lila turned to look at him, confusion creasing her pretty forehead. “What’s Dall-more International?”

Rhys blinked. He was so used to people knowing who he was, or at least having heard of the biggest construction company in Europe, it was actually quite refreshing that she didn’t. Or it meant that she didn’t watch the news.

“Dall-i-more,” he corrected. “It’s a consortium of businesses centred around the construction industry. Except Aubrey Legal, that my sister runs, which is, like it says, legal work.”

“Oh.” Lila’s eyes widened. “She sounds important.”

“She is and my cousins are too,” Rhys said, shoving his hands in his pockets and picking up the pace a little. Couldn’t she walk any faster?

“Wait, are you the only one who—” Her sentence finished in a high-pitched scream.

She suddenly disappeared from Rhys’s peripheral vision, leg skidding out in front of her and arms flailing like windmills.

Lila landed heavily on the ground on the ground with a damp squelch and another screech. “Ow! Oh my God, it hurts!”

Rhys looked down.

How had Lila Cartwright managed to fall over? Was she a child? She was lying on the ground, pale blue woollen coat splayed around her, hair tie doing absolutely nothing to hold back the mess of blonde hair getting damp on the ground.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whined, sitting up and bending her leg gingerly.

God, this was embarrassing. If she couldn’t walk in a straight line on a normal day, how would she manage at the Dallimore dinner? Perhaps taking Lila as his date didn’t scream ‘success’ like he wanted it to, but was more of a liability.

“What did you do?” He grabbed her arms and hoisted her to her feet.

“I slipped on the leaves. No, no, no! Stop, stop!” she cried and he held completely still.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her face.

Christ, what had he done?

“It’s my ankle, I’ve hurt my ankle,” Lila said, digging her fingers into his forearms for support.

“Should we take off your boot?” Rhys suggested, bending down and reaching for the zip. They weren’t too tall, so he couldn’t remonstrate that they were inappropriate for slippery autumnal leaves.

“Don’t you dare, Rhys Aubrey-Dallmore,” Lila screeched. “It’s really, really sore. Let’s just leave it on, yeah?”

“Dall-i-more,” he corrected under his breath. “Okay, okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Just,” she put her arm around his shoulder, “put your arm around me and help, Rhys.”

“Yes. Right, yes.” Rhys slid his arm around her waist, bending to make sure he got his shoulder under her arm properly.

Lila took a couple of stuttering hops before stopping to wipe her brow. He looked at her incredulously. Really? They wouldn’t get back to the office before nightfall at this rate, and by that point he’d probably be nearly dead from hypothermia.

With a huff, Rhys swept her up in his arms.

Lila

“Rhys! What are you doing? Put me down!” she shrieked.

She wasn’t usually the shrieking kind of girl, but she was hoisted so swiftly and confidently by Rhys that the high-pitched squawk just kind of, well, escaped.

“I’m carrying you, because it will take forever otherwise.”

Could he be any more annoyed? It’s not like she made the leaves slipperier than a thousand banana skins.

“How are you so strong? Is this all the kickboxing?” she asked, as he jostled her in his arms.

“Yeah, not that strong. Can you hold on or something?” Rhys frowned, glancing at her. “You’re not heavy,” he said quickly, “but you’re a dead weight if you don’t hold on.”

Lila smiled. He was so awkward, so aware of his own perceived shortcomings.

She slipped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

He was a strange mixture of minty shampoo and cedar aftershave.

It shouldn’t really go together, but it did, and it suited him.

His strong jaw was covered in a slight dark stubble, and his dusky eyelashes were thick and full.

“What?” he said, flicking his eyes to her.

“I’m just looking at you. Who knew your eyes were more hazel than chocolate brown?” She grinned.

“Okay, whatever.” But there was a flush to his cheeks. She supposed that could have been from the cold, the exertion, or a particularly bad lunchtime taco.

Students scattered from their path, looking on with comical stares. Some of them snapped photos or videos on their phones, but Lila didn’t care. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever have her Richard Gere moment, even if her ankle was throbbing painfully.

“It’s like An Officer and a Gentleman, Rhys! Do you have a hat?” She laughed, throwing her head back.

“I obviously don’t have a hat. Can you stop wriggling?”

Lila pressed her lips together to keep a smile inside. It was ridiculously fun, being carried through the university with Up Where We Belong streaming through her head. Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate her bursting into song.

He looked less than impressed, his jaw clenched and his hazel eyes fixed ahead.

“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” she said as they passed the Engineering Department. Although she didn’t mind in the slightest.

“How else are you going to get anywhere?” His voice was stern, and his eyes singularly focused straight ahead of them. “You’ll need to call your manager – who is it? Sue?”

“Why?”

He flicked his eyes to her, those eyebrows drawn neatly together. “Because you have to go to the hospital.”

“What? No, I don’t.” She tapped him on a muscular shoulder. “Rhys, just put me down.”

“Fine.” He stopped and lowered her slowly to the ground. “Go on then, walk.”

Lila wobbled, and braced her good leg, throwing her arms out wide to keep her balance. He was all challenging and confident, so sure that she wouldn’t be able to move. Well, she’d show his arrogant conker tush.

“Fine,” she echoed, and put her foot gingerly on the floor.

It would be okay if she didn’t put her heel down and if she just hopped a bit, surely?

She took a couple of pathetic steps. Good lord, she needed some painkillers.

The pain shooting up the side of her calf was not a featherlight tickle. She grabbed his shoulder for support.

“See, Rhys, it’s fine,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lila,” he said. “Get your phone out and call Sue. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Rhys, it’s fine” she said. “I’ll get a taxi, or call Maddy.” Or, more likely, wait until Jasmeet was finished and could come and get her after school.

“Stop, Lila. You cannot walk.” His voice was louder than it had been, and his lip curled in frustration. “Call Sue. Now.”

“You are so bossy, Rhys Aubrey-Dallmore,” she grumbled, dragging her phone out of her pocket.

“It’s Dall-i-more, not Dallmore,” he snapped. “I’ve corrected you three times now.”

Everything about him was tense and taut, and a tiny vein was pulsing frantically in his temple.

That flush across his cheeks had dropped into a deep red, and he’d indignantly forced his shoulders down and chin up.

God, she knew exactly how his students felt – lower than maggots.

More like amoebas on maggots. Her stomach was hollow and her mouth dry, but he was expecting a reply.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rhys. Sorry,” she mumbled.

He’d told her repeatedly, and she had repeatedly got his name wrong. She’d been concentrating on not slipping (didn’t do a great job), and trying to take in everything else he was saying about needing a fake girlfriend and ‘Dallimore’ just hadn’t stuck in her head.

He sighed and passed a hand across his chin and his face softened. Was that a bit of contrition?

“Are you calling Sue? Or am I?”

Lila tapped her phone quickly, and Sue answered on the second ring.

“Sue, it’s Lila. I’ve got to go to the hospital. I’ve hurt my ankle,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, but feeling rather brittle after the dressing-down from Rhys.

“Oh gosh, Lila. Is it broken?” Sue asked.

“No. It’s not that bad, but Rhys is making me go. He’s taking me, but I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Rhys scooped her up again, bouncing her against his chest.

“Oop,” she huffed. “Sue, it’s like An Officer and a Gentleman out here!”

Rhys made a rough, disparaging noise in the back of his throat.

“Oh my God, is Rhys carrying you?” Sue gasped, and she could hear the squeak of the wheelie chair scuttling along the floor, probably to the window. “I can see you! Look up!”

Lila waved at Sue’s silhouette in the first-floor window.

“I hope there’s not going to be a sexual harassment complaint. I don’t have time for that,” Sue said.

“Gosh, no. I think I’m annoying him more than anything.” Lila smiled sweetly at Rhys’s profile. His mouth was pressed into a firm line.

“Tell Sue I don’t have any lectures this afternoon, but could she email my students and move my office hours.” Rhys was breathless as they entered the car park. Good. A breathless Rhys couldn’t tell her off again.

“I heard. Let me know how it goes at the hospital, Lila. Hopefully you’ll be back tomorrow,” Sue said, before ending the call.

Thanks for the sympathy, Sue.

“Rhys, you know you don’t have to do this, but thank you. I appreciate it,” she said, resisting patting his shoulder again. He did have nice shoulders, and probably sleeping on them would be incredibly comfortable. Uh, why was she thinking about sleeping on Rhys Aubrey’s shoulder? No.

He gave her a glare out of the corner of his eye, but the tips of his ears coloured pink.

“Petunia is that one over there.” Lila pointed to a sky-blue, teeny-tiny Fiat 500 that Jason would have never agreed to let her buy.

But it was one of the first things she did when they split up, get this pretty little car on finance at the cheapest deal she could. Petunia was beautiful and freeing.

Rhys looked at her quizzically.