Page 58 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

“You also haven’t turned it down, which you are of course completely within our right to do.” He holds the door open. “But until then, I’ll assume that I’ll see you Friday. Or Saturday. Or, honestly, both, if you want. I'm flexible."

“Oh yeah? Is that what you've been told?"

He gives me an overexaggerated wink. “Maybe it's what I'm hoping you'll find out. Just don’t be surprised if you see me doing some stretches in the break room.”

I laugh at his cockiness, a welcome change from being in my head all day. I'm about to fire back a retort when I see a figure across the hallway.

Rhys is leaning against the wall, going through a stack of papers while someone fires questions at him. He looks up and catches my eye, holds it — then his face hardens, and I turn to see Craig coming through the door behind me, still doing up his jacket.

"Can I walk you back to your office?" Craig says, gesturing down the hallway. "We can continue our conversation about how impressive I am."

"Craig," Rhys says, stepping forward, cutting off whoever he's talking to mid-sentence. "Got a minute? Wanted to run something past you."

"Now?" Craig throws me a confused glance.

“Won't take long. Unless you're busy, of course. I've got an idea for your application."

Craig's face lights up with eagerness. “Sure. Not busy at all. Look forward to hearing it."

"Great, after you," Rhys says, gesturing to an empty room. We watch Craig go, and then Rhys turns to me, a hand on his chest. "So sorry if I interrupted something, Ms Riley.”

I glare at his retreating back. I might not know him as well as I used to, but something tells me Rhys isn't as sorry as he wants me to think.

I'm starting to get used to the dark sky greeting me when I leave uni. It's encouraging though, that even after just over a week, the nights aren't closing in as early as when I first got here.

I'm halfway home when I realise a dark grey car is tailing me. Rhys. I'm not surprised, somehow he's managed to leave work at the same time as me almost every day. But today when I drive past our street and head to the local supermarket instead, he's still with me.

It's a busy Tuesday night, and when I finally find a park, I don't see his car. Good. I'm still not sure what to make of what happened earlier when he saw me with Craig, and I'd rather not talk to him before I know what I'm going to say.

I grab some reusable bags from the backseat and walk to the entrance, only to see Rhys standing there, hands in his pockets. His tie is off, top button undone, sleeves pushed up to the elbows. A little more wrinkled than usual — end-of-day Rhys, rather than the pressed version of the morning.

"Small world," I say, and push past him into the store, with no intention of continuing this shopping trip with him.

"Ran out of milk," he says, falling into step beside me.

Good enough explanation. People run out of milk, even uptight, seemingly emotionless ones.

I head for the baskets, but he beats me to the stack. I reach for one anyway, but he grabs one first. "I've got it. Big enough, or should I get a trolley?"

I frown. Is he shopping with me? "I don't need that much. But I can carry it."

"You could. Or I could. And I'm already holding it."

Good argument, I guess.

"Other than milk, what do you need?" I ask.

"I'll know it when I see it. You lead the way."

I start at the fruit and veg, because starting anywhere else feels sacrilegious. Whenever I reach for something, he gets there first, and, honestly, annoyingly, he's better at picking than I am. When we pass the cherries, I linger longer than I should, knowing I'm not actually getting any — it's the off-season and they're basically a dollar a cherry. But they're my favourite, and if I can't buy them, I can at least devour them with my eyeballs.

"Do we need more ginger?" Rhys asks from further down the aisle. "For your tea?"

I nod. "How did you know?"

"I live with you, remember? I know things about you no one else does.”

I think there’s an almost imperceptible cocking of his eyebrow, but he’s focusing again on the pile of ginger before I can process it.