Chapter 6
Mila
It’s the end of my second week babysitting for the Hawkins, and I have to admit, spending time with Jake has quickly become the highlight of my days. With uni wrapped up for the year and more free time than I know what to do with, his energy and curiosity have been a welcome change of pace.
We’ve bonded faster than I anticipated, with Jake never missing a chance to share more quirky facts about insects during each visit—something that’s been both entertaining and surprisingly educational.
Meanwhile, Jason and I have been slowly connecting through our game of twenty-one questions.
Tonight, will be question number five, and I can’t wait to see what he’ll ask me next.
Since the game began, I’ve uncovered some unexpectedly fascinating truths about my usually private boss—things I never could’ve imagined in a million years.
For instance, when he was fourteen, his dad once left him stranded in the middle of nowhere as a ‘lesson’ after catching him skipping school to drink with his friends.
It wasn’t until an hour later, when his dad returned, only to find Jason passed out beneath a tree.
According to him, he was quite the troublemaker as a teen who constantly drove his father mad.
He half-jokingly admits that he’s terrified Jake will turn out just like him at that age.
I was also surprised to learn that Jason Hawkins used to be a state police officer, just like his father and grandfather, until he opened his own restaurant shortly after turning twenty-seven.
But the biggest surprise of all was finding out he has a genuine fear of needles and injections, which feels oddly endearing given the number of tattoos he bears.
Getting to know Jason has been both enlightening and amusing.
It’s certainly eased some of the nervous tension I’ve often felt whenever he’s around.
He no longer seems as larger-than-life as I once thought.
Learning about his upbringing, his past, and even his fears has made him feel more down-to-earth, more human—more relatable.
When it was my turn to answer questions, he was equally surprised to learn a few things about me as well—like how I travelled to twenty countries in one year, getting scammed and pickpocketed in a few of them, or how I decided to become a speech therapist after overcoming a childhood speech impediment.
He was also shocked to discover that I had been a two-time under-16s champion tennis player, with my name proudly displayed on a plaque at my old tennis centre.
With every new question came an even more intriguing answer. It was quickly becoming my favourite game to play, and to top it off, I’m able to get to know Jason better.
It’s Sunday night, and Jake and I are lounging on the couch, watching a short film about cicadas—the world’s loudest insects.
For the past two hours, he’s been filling me in on some surprising facts about the small, ear-splitting creatures.
Like how their singing can cause hearing loss if you stand too close, and how they spend most of their short lives underground.
The best part of the night was when he tried to mimic the sound of the tiny creatures.
I laughed so hard, I almost popped a vein. The noise that escaped him was somewhere between a squealing pig and a buzzing mosquito—a sound so bizarre I wasn’t entirely sure humans were even capable of producing it.
The short video ends, and another automatically appears on the screen. Just as I go to click on the next one, Jake asks a question that completely catches me off guard.
“Mila, do you like my dad?”
I freeze mid-breath, my mouth parting slightly as I process his question. “Of course, Jake. He’s become a really good friend. Why do you ask?” I say as I reach for the bottle of water on the coffee table.
“Because he thinks you’re funny and really beautiful.”
I nearly choke on my drink but manage to cough it out quickly. “Oh, well... I, uh...” I stammer, feeling my cheeks quickly warm. “Tell him I said thank you,” is all I can bring myself to say.
“He would tell my mum she was beautiful and then kiss her on the lips. If he calls you beautiful, just be ready. He might kiss you on the lips too.”
I quickly cover my mouth to suppress a laugh and a grin. His childlike perspective, whether innocent or completely absurd, never fails to amuse me.
“I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Jake.
” I chuckle softly. “You see, your mum and dad were married, so it was normal for them to call each other sweet names and kiss from time to time. But your dad and I don’t have that kind of relationship.
We’re more like friends. We can say nice things to each other and maybe even hug sometimes, but we definitely do not kiss on the lips. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so.” He shrugs.
“Now that’s clarified, how about we watch a video about the greengrocer cicada next?”
He nods eagerly and I click onto the next video in the playlist. For the rest of the evening, we watch a few more short films, then download a children’s eBook about cicadas on my iPad for me to read to him before bedtime.
After Jake has fallen asleep, I quietly slip out of his room and begin tidying up the house. Popping in my AirPods, I start in the kitchen, moving from one small task to the next until I make my way to the other rooms. All the while, my thoughts keep drifting back to Jake’s earlier comment.
I know it was just a simple compliment, one Jason’s probably given to plenty of women before, but still, it doesn’t stop the warm flutter in my chest—and most of all, it doesn’t stop me from wondering if I’ve been on his mind as much as he’s been on mine.
A few hours later, Jason returns and strides into the living room, wearing that wicked grin that could melt anyone within a ten-kilometre radius.
“Good evening,” he greets me, his voice low and raspy.
“Good evening to you, sir.”
He chuckles under his breath as he strolls past me and into the kitchen.
Next minute, I hear the sound of the fridge door opening and closing followed by the distinct pop of two beer bottles being opened.
Jason returns to the living room seconds later, hands me a beer, and sinks onto the couch beside me.
Whenever Jason comes home from work, we share a beer and ease into the evening, lounging either on the couch or on the deck overlooking the swimming pool. It’s his way of unwinding, and it often serves as the perfect prelude to our little game.
“How was work?” I ask.
“Surprisingly uneventful,” he murmurs just before taking a swig of his beer. “I can’t wait for Chris to return to work though. I’ve fallen behind on the paperwork since I’ve been covering for him at the bar and training my new bartender.”
“How is she going by the way. Gemma, was it?”
“Yeah, she’s doing really well—picks things up fairly quickly. She’s fantastic with the customers, even though she gets hit on more times than I can count. That aside, I’ve been quite impressed with her work ethic so far.”
I tilt my head, studying his profile, searching for any hint that his admiration extends beyond her work—any sign that he might be attracted to her. But his expression remains impassive, giving nothing away. If anything, he simply looks exhausted.
Last week, when he mentioned hiring a new bartender—’a young, beautiful blonde,’ as he described her—I couldn’t help the faint sting of jealousy that crept through my chest. I know he’s single, free to admire whoever he pleases, yet hearing those exact words slip from his lips pricked me more than I thought it would.
Jason seems to have a knack for finding women beautiful, and I can’t tell whether it’s simply an appreciation of their beauty or if there’s a hint of a ladies’ man lurking beneath the surface. Either way, I’ve got to stop reading so much into everything. He’s not mine.
I take a sip of my beer, savouring its cold, bitter taste, when Jason plucks the book from my other hand and sets it on the coffee table. “Now that I have your full attention,” he says, “how was your evening with Jake?”
“It was as interesting as always. Tonight’s focus was on cicadas, and I must say, your son has a real gift for impersonating just about any insect on the planet. I was both impressed and amused by his version of their sounds.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, dear. My son—human child by day, insect boy at night. I wish I was there to have seen it.”
“I’ll record it for you next time.” I chuckle.
“Please do!” He beams, flashing a playful smile. “What other interesting things happened while I was gone?”
Unintentionally, a small laugh escapes me, and I quickly press a hand to my mouth.
“Sorry… don’t mind me,” I murmur.
He frowns curiously. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “It was just something Jake said earlier this evening.”
“Alright, now you absolutely have to share,” he urges.
“Umm… well… It’s kind of embarrassing actually.”
“Try me.”
“Okay, well since you asked,” I reply, my tone carrying a hint of warning. “Jake mentioned that you told him I was funny and beautiful, and that whenever you said that to his mum, you’d kiss her afterwards. So naturally, he assumed you kiss every woman you call beautiful.”
I pause, watching for his reaction, but he just raises an eyebrow and brings his beer towards his mouth without saying a word. So, I press on. “Then he warned me to prepare myself because he thinks you’ll try to kiss me too.”
Jason chokes on his beer, followed by a series of coughs, as he bangs his fist against his chest. “Fuck, sorry, went down the wrong hole,” he says, clearing his throat. “Did he really say that?”
I nod, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Wow, I’m sorry. Jake’s understanding of adult behaviour mostly comes from what he hears me say or sees me do. I’ll be sure to be careful around him next time,” he says.
“It’s okay. I gently explained to him that it’s different when two people are married and when they’re just friends. Once I clarified, he seemed to understand the concept better.”
For a brief moment, we sit in silence, simply gazing at one another, our minds wandering elsewhere. There’s no tension, no unease, only a calm, gentle stillness that feels unexpectedly comforting. I realise that the more time I spend with Jason, the more natural and at ease I feel in his presence.
He tosses back the rest of his beer and sets it down on the coffee table. “Shall we continue our game?” he asks, swiftly changing the subject.
I gulp down the rest of my drink, placing the empty bottle next to his, then lean back on the couch, bracing myself for his next question. “Ready when you are.”
“My next question for you is… Have you ever had your heart stolen?”
“Wow, okay,” I say with a soft laugh, “that’s pretty deep.”
“What can I say? I’m a pretty deep person.” He winks playfully.
I shake my head, letting out a small chuckle. “Sadly, no, not yet” I admit, releasing a heavy sigh. “I’ve only ever been in two relationships my whole life, both short-term, and neither developed to anything serious. I guess I’m still waiting for the right person to come along. What about you?”
The moment the question slips out, Jason’s entire demeanour changes. His eyes lower to his lap as he decides how much he’s ready to give away.
He lifts his gaze, offering a smile that falters just short of his eyes.
“Yes, I’ve had my heart stolen before, and I’m sure you can guess by whom.
” He exhales sharply before continuing. “Elena and I met when the restaurant first opened.
She and her mother were my first customers, and the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I right away, I wanted to get to know her more.
“Long story short, we started dating not long after that day, and I fell for her—hard and fast. She was stunning, driven, intelligent, and incredibly goal-oriented. She had a clear vision of what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to chase it, something I deeply admired about her.
Three months into our relationship, we learned we were expecting Jake, and six months later, we eloped—a decision she never let me forget, even though it had been her idea in the first place.
Everything moved so quickly, but at the time, I didn’t care because I was completely in love with her. ”
He shakes his head, as if trying to rid himself of the memories.
“I’ll tell you this, though: love can be one of the most amazing things to experience, but it can also be one of the most painful.
So, Mila, one day when you decide to give your heart away to someone, make sure they’ve truly earned it, that they. .. genuinely deserve it.”
Absorbing the full weight of his words, I lean forward, resting my hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
He glances down at our joined hands, then, in a move that takes me completely by surprise, he grips my hand and lifts it slowly to his mouth.
The instant his soft, warm lips brush my skin, my chest hitches and my breath catches—only for it to shatter just as quickly.
Jason jerks his hand away, as if suddenly realising what he’s done, and stands up abruptly. “Come on. Let me walk you out,” he murmurs, signalling the end of our game, and night.
I force a tight smile and nod, doing my best to conceal the hurt and disappointment.
From the hardness in his expression and the sudden urgency to usher me out of his home, it’s clear he instantly regretted that move. And I’m not sure whether that stings more than the rejection itself.
As we reach my car, he thanks me once more for my help before saying good night. I slide into the driver’s seat and slowly pull out of the driveway, my mind racing with just one question: What the fuck just happened?