Page 7

NOAH

I’ve got a proposal for you

Millie’s big, brown eyes widen as she drinks me in, her mouth parting in surprise.

When she’s not standing on a cliff-edge or soaked through from the ocean, she looks different.

Curls pile atop her head, flyaway hairs sticking out of a burnt orange headband.

My gaze travels down her legs, across denim shorts showcasing the definition in her thighs, to her spotless white sneakers.

If we hadn’t traded verbal blows with one another yesterday, I might find myself speechless from her cuteness.

Next to me, tension rolls off Dan’s shoulders.

“You didn’t have to come,” I remind him.

“Bullshit,” Dan spits. “You need a full-time buffer to stop you putting your foot in your giant mouth.”

Dan knows me better than I know myself. He can tell what I’m thinking before I’ve even registered what’s happening.

Sometimes I wonder how different recent events would’ve played out if I’d listened to him sooner.

He’s nearly always right and the fact he’s not thrilled about me showing up to talk to Millie should make me second guess my decision to come here.

But something about this idea of Mack’s I can’t shake. It’s played on my mind since he suggested it yesterday and I went to bed stewing on the concept, wondering if there was some sense to his madness.

Despite me ducking home to Australia, the chatter about my debauched antics hasn’t simmered down.

I thought if I disappeared for a while, the press would find something else to talk about, but instead, people are making up whatever they feel like.

As my recently reinstated manager and agent (I fired him temporarily whilst drunk), Mack has pointed out I don’t have the luxury of time.

Gossip about my partying antics won’t fade before the surf season picks up again unless I do something drastic.

According to my late-night internet stalking, the blonde woman next to Millie is Ellis, Millie’s cousin.

She attended St. Xavier’s, but was a year above us.

I don’t remember much about her, other than when she punched the bully who picked on Millie.

Ellis’s social media isn’t on private, so I gained a lot of information on Millie without really trying.

Ellis’s captions and photos on her social media consistently describe Millie as selfless, kind, funny and hardworking, helping Ellis navigate the death of her mother.

Ellis post from this morning was of Millie’s smiling face, hair drenched and water droplets dotting her face from our encounter yesterday.

The caption read: Drowning in whiskey while this bitch was actually drowning.

The best thing in my life. After my dog. ILY @millieschofield

Sure, the view could be biased, but I think it’s safe to say Millie is a genuinely good person, despite how she might feel towards me.

Millie’s eyes narrow with suspicion as she makes her way across the room, her gaze darting to Dan before landing back on me. “Two times in two days?”

I grin. “Some might say you’re a lucky gal.”

“Some might say you’re presumptuous.”

Touché. I should’ve known that was coming. “Millie, this is my best mate, Dan.”

Dan reaches out a hand and Millie shakes it. “Hi, Dan. I’m thrilled to learn Noah has friends, but what are you both doing here?”

She’s caught off-guard by our presence and the flush of her cheeks gives me hope she’s not immune to my smooth-talking.

“I came to check how you were doing,” I explain. “After yesterday.”

She folds her arms. “I’m fine, thanks.”

And still pissed. She’s hot when she’s pissed.

I dig into my back pocket and pull out a wad of cash. “I know it can’t replace your camera, but hopefully you can find one that works for you.”

Millie stares at my hand. “You’re giving me cash?”

“I said I’d replace it.” I shrug. “I don’t have any idea about cameras, though. I didn’t want to buy the wrong one.”

“I can’t accept that, Noah,” she says, rubbing her arms. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary.”

I take a step closer and lower my voice. “I heard it was the anniversary of your aunt’s passing yesterday. I’m sorry. Please take the cash.”

Her big brown eyes glisten. “How do you know about my aunt?”

“Google,” I admit.

Her eyebrows spring up. “You Googled me?”

“Well, I had to learn about the local business owner who’s helping me reconnect with my roots,” I explain.

Millie’s eyes narrow. “You failed to mention you’re a goddamn international superstar.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?”

She makes a noise of disgust. “You’re more arrogant than I remember.”

“And you’re more annoying than I remember.”

Dan coughs next to me as Ellis approaches us, a wariness in her eyes. “Can we help you, gents?”

I flash her a smile and note the way she softens slightly. “I was checking in on Millie, after yesterday.”

“Ah, yes. The near drowning you caused.” Ellis’s eyes flare with warning before darting to the cash in my hand. “Are you paying her hush money?”

“What? No. This is for the camera.”

Ellis frowns. “The camera?”

Millie runs a hand over her face. “I lost the camera after I fell.”

“Oh, Mill. I’m sorry.” Ellis rubs Millie’s back before glaring at me. “My mum gave her that camera.”

Way to go, King.

“I’m really sorry.” Guilt threatens to bubble as I clear my throat. “Please take the money. It’s the least I can do.”

Ellis holds out her hand and I give her the wad, which she snaps up without hesitation.

Millie’s mouth drops open. “Ellis?—”

“You heard the man. It’s the least he can do.”

Millie sighs. “We really need to get back to work. I’ve got tables to shift. Coffee beans to grind. Thanks for stopping in.”

“You guys own this place?” I ask, ignoring her dismissal.

My gaze travels around the open space, dotted with sanded tables filled with goods and gift-sized trinkets.

Shells and magnets, photos of the local beach.

A giant surfboard hangs on the far wall with the words Welcome to Beans crafted from copper wire.

“She’s not much, but she’s ours,” Ellis says, turning to look around the room. “A parting gift from my mother.”

“It’s awesome,” I say.

Millie snorts. “It was Donna’s idea of one last joke as she left the living realm. This place needs a total overhaul. Nothing’s changed since the nineties.”

“Nothing wrong with the nineties,” I offer.

“There is if it’s making you bankrupt.”

Bingo.

Millie’s smart, hardworking and has bills to pay. If I could make her an offer she can’t refuse, maybe she can help me get into the public’s good graces and save my ass for the tournament next year. Mack’s idea is starting to look like an actual solution.

“Could we take this outside?” I ask Millie.

Her eyes widen. “Take what outside?”

“This conversation.”

“No, you need to go.” She starts shooing me towards the exit.

I grin down at her as she bumps into my chest. “Are you always this combative?”

“ This is combative?”

“Dan could help with the tables that need shifting while we talk,” I suggest.

Millie narrows her eyes, but Ellis saves her the trouble of answering. “Head out to the balcony. I’ll use Dan’s muscles while I have him.” Ellis signals for Dan to follow her and he obliges, shooting me a glare filled with violent warning.

Millie reluctantly leads me to a large outdoor balcony overlooking a patch of clustered gum trees, the sound of birds chirping and singing echoing through the valley below. When she spits to face me, she plants her hands on her hips. “Cut the crap. Why are you here?”

I smirk in surprise. “Can’t a jock come by to check on an old nerdy schoolmate he helped out yesterday?”

“Give me a break, Noah,” she scoffs. “Your cash offer might’ve fooled Ellis, but like you pointed out, I’m a know-it-all, and I know you’re not here for me.”

A sharp jolt spasms in my chest, but I ignore it. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“You remember a lot more about me than you let on yesterday.”

“Yes, well, it didn’t take long for the memories to come flooding back,” she says, her cheeks reddening. “You were self-centred, obnoxious, loud, cocky?—”

“Confident, charming, witty,” I interject. “Please, enough with these compliments already.”

Millie groans. “What do you want?”

“It’s a little unorthodox, but if you hear me out, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

My gaze travels to her hands, where she’s repeatedly pinching the skin between her thumbs and forefingers. “I already don’t like it.”

I clap my hands together. “I have a proposal for you.”