‘Have you ever watched television?’ I ask as Miller makes himself comfortable on the sofa, ready to veg. I can’t imagine Miller watching television, just like I can’t imagine him doing most normal things. He reclines and gestures for me to join him, so I lie on his chest, face tucked neatly under his chin, my body falling between his thighs when he spreads them.
‘Would you like to watch television?’ he asks, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth.
I ignore that he hasn’t answered my question and reach for the remote control with my spare hand. The screen jumps to life, and I immediately smile when I’m confronted with Del and Rodney Trotter. ‘You must have watched Only Fools and Horses.’ It’s a national treasure!
‘Can’t say I have.’
‘Really?’ I blurt, swinging my astonished face up to his. ‘Just watch it. You’ll never look back.’
‘As you wish,’ he agrees quietly, beginning to knead lovely firm circles into my nape. ‘Anything you wish.’
I’m only watching the television, not hearing any of the banter, as my mind wanders to a place where Miller’s words were true. Anything I wish. I compile a mental list of things I’d wish for, smiling when I feel the vibrations of a suppressed laugh beneath me. My part-time, refined gentleman is amused by the antics playing out on the screen before us, and the normalcy of that fills me with contentment, no matter how trivial it is.
And then the moment is shattered by the sound of Miller’s phone ringing in the distance.
A few easy movements has me minus one Miller beneath me and immediately resentful of his phone. ‘Excuse me,’ he mutters as he carries his naked body from the room. I watch as he disappears, smiling at the vision of his butt cheeks tensing and swelling with his long strides, then curl onto my side and retrieve the woollen throw from the floor.
‘I have her,’ he virtually growls, walking back into the room. I roll my eyes. There’s only one other man who would be asking where I am, and I have no desire to face him and his displeasure over my AWOL performance today. I wish my fraudulent gentleman wouldn’t make me sound like a possession all of the time, or, as the case might be now, a felon. I look to the end of the couch when he rests his arse on the edge, the contentment of a few moments ago vanished. ‘I was busy,’ he hisses, then follows it up with a flick of his eyes to mine. ‘Is that all?’
My resentment multiplies, and it’s now held solely for William Anderson. It seems to have become his life goal to make my life as difficult and as miserable as possible. I’d love to snatch the phone from Miller’s angry grasp and spit a few choice words down the line.
‘Well she’s with me, she’s safe, and I’m done explaining, Anderson. We’ll reconvene tomorrow. You know where to find me.’ He tosses his phone down, all bristly and worked up.
‘Who was that?’ I ask, smiling when Miller gapes at me.
‘Really, Olivia?’
‘Oh, lighten up,’ I breathe, swinging my legs off the sofa. ‘I’m ready for bed. Coming?’
‘I might tie you down.’
I recoil a little, frantically batting away the rapid influx of images that are dancing at the front of my mind, reminding me. Belts.
Miller visibly winces when he catches the unmistakable horror on my face. ‘So you don’t knee me in the balls,’ he rushes to clarify. ‘Because you’re a terrible fidget in bed.’ An awkward hand sweeps through his waves as he stands.
Humour chases away the flashbacks. I know I’m an awful fidget in my sleep. My bedcovers come morning are proof. ‘Have I caught you in the crown jewels?’
He frowns. ‘The what?’
‘Crown jewels.’ I smile. ‘Balls.’
His hand comes towards me, but I keep my eyes on a face full of exasperation, relishing the fact that he’s trying his utmost not to fuel my sass. ‘Many times. Elbows in my ribs, knees in my balls, but they’re a small price to pay for having you in my arms.’
I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. ‘I’m sorry.’ I’m not sorry at all. I’d give anything to be a fly on the wall so I could watch my night-time shenanigans and Miller fighting to cope with them.
‘I’ve already forgiven you, and I’ll forgive you again tomorrow morning.’
I chuckle quietly but halt in the blink of an eye when the sound of a harsh knock at the door cuts into our light repartee. ‘Who’s that?’ I ask, my eyes swinging to the window. My sass receives the proverbial equivalent of a douse of petrol to a spark. If William’s made a special trip to express his displeasure personally, then my sass might burst into uncontrollable flames.
Miller’s gone in a flash, taking the woollen throw with him, and I’m left butt-naked and alone in the lounge. I didn’t like the anxious vibes emanating from him before he left. Not at all. Creeping on my tiptoes to the door, I peek down the hallway, seeing he’s wrapped the throw around his waist and secured it by tucking the edge in, but he’s still far from decent. So when he opens the door and steps out without a word or concern for his semi-naked body, my mind goes into overdrive. And then I catch a glimpse of shiny ebony locks before the door clicks shut.
My sass explodes into angry flames. ‘The cheeky bitch!’ I gasp to no one in particular, going in pursuit of Miller but pulling to a sharp halt when I allow the fact that I’m naked to worm past the anger. ‘Shit!’ I turn and sprint into the lounge, locate my clothes, and yank them on. I fly towards the source of my anger at a dangerous rate and wrench the door open, coming face-to-face with Miller’s naked back, but I’m far too consumed by fury to appreciate it. I push him aside and let my angry eyes punch holes into Cassie’s perfect frame, ready to hurl a torrent of verbal abuse her way.