Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Present and Past

"We most certainly are not!" she exclaimed in indignation.

"Are we not? Pity," he deadpanned. He suddenly leaned to her, making her almost jump up, and picked up the tray from her lap. "Would you like more tea?"

"No," she hissed, but of course had to add, "thank you." She cleared her throat. "Rhys, it's rather late, and I don't want to make it any more awkward between you and Alan, so–"

"It's not awkward," he stated, once again in the same infuriating assured tone of his. He stood up and gave her a look from under a raised eyebrow. "It's not like you're married to him."

"Neither am I married to you!"

He was driving her mad! How else could one explain this sudden childish mulishness of hers?!

"Not entirely, no," he said with a lopsided smirk. The audacity of the man!

"Not at all!" she hissed. Stop arguing with him!

"I'll make you more tea in a thermos, for later," he said and left the room, picking up his tray and other dishes on his way.

By the time he was back, she'd managed to gather her thoughts. She knew him well after all. Had known him well, to be precise. He set a thermos on the floor near her and looked down at her.

"Could you please sit for a moment?" she said in a level tone, and pointed at her bed with her eyes.

He chuckled, shook his head slightly, but obeyed.

"Yes?" he drew out because she was still silent.

"I think we need to set some–" She wanted to say 'rules,' but suddenly remembered how he used to tease her and call this tone of her 'professorial.' "Boundaries," she said, softening her tone. "I think it would be wise to treat our relationship as a new one. Let's just put all our past aside - and have dinner. It'll be our first date, and that will be the level of familiarity we will have."

His left eyebrow jumped up sardonically.

"I'm grateful that you were here, and helped me out," she said, "but I feel it threw our dynamic off."

He tilted his head, and she could see he was trying not to smile. She suppressed her rising irritation. She needed to take the situation under control!

"Alright," he said with a nod.

"Alright?" She as much as squinted in suspicion. It can't possibly be that easy!

"Yes, we'll do it your way," he said. "If that's what makes you happy, we'll start from scratch. But," he added, and she tensed. "I would still need you to tell me what I used to do wrong," he continued. "What's the point of bollocksing our relationship again if I can avoid it, yeah? Just give me the list."

"The... list?" Viola asked, staring at him.

"Yeah, the list of things that cheese you off," he answered lightly and grinned. "Leaving clothes on the floor and dishes everywhere. Saying hurtful things," he started listing, curling his fingers. "Being closed off, right?" He curled another of his long digits. "Hungry grumpiness," he continued. "I'll give you that, it was daft. What else?"

"You're not serious!" she exclaimed.

"I am serious," he said. "I want to make it work."

"But– This makes no sense!" Her voice was rising. "You can't just 'stop saying hurtful things.'" She almost gestured bunny years in the air. "I'm sure if you knew that these statements of yours were hurtful, you wouldn't say these things. That's just what you're like! And–"