2. Miles

CHAPTER 2

MILES

I t feels like we've been driving for hours. The traffic crawls forward, the road ahead of us rippling with fumes and heat. There have been like a million stop signs, and all the traffic lights have been red, and the motorway was jammed full of other people all going in our direction.

Olivia is fine enough as company, at least, but I'm still ready to have a lie down and then go out on the town. In that exact order.

Finally, we pull up behind an apartment complex. It's still hot when we get out the car, the metal door stinging my hand. We had the air-conditioning blasting the whole time, so I almost forgot what the beating sun felt like. It's going to be hard to adjust to this. I should have brought more suncream.

I'm too busy thinking about the weather and the weirdly stunted conversation we just had in the car to really notice how fancy the place I'm moving into is until I'm staring up at the brand-new shiny white walls of the entrance. "Whoa," I say. "This place is sleek."

Olivia just shrugs. I can see I'm going to have a hard time with her.

"You've got the bags, yeah?" I ask.

"No," she says with a glare. What does she mean, no ? Isn't she here to look after me? She can't seriously expect me to do everything all by myself. That would just be ridiculous. It's bad enough she's following me around. If she has to do that, then the least she could do is have a bit of fun with me.

Wordlessly, I go to the boot of the car and grab two of my bags. "Fine. We'll split it," I say. She gives me that tightlipped smile again, the kind that says You are oh, so beneath me . If I had to describe her in one word, it would be professional. She strikes me as the kind of girl who doesn't own anything except sharp business suits and has a whole drawerful of identical lipsticks that she spent ages getting perfectly matched to skin tone or whatever.

It does suit her, in fairness. It's got a purple quality to it that goes with her eyes, which are a deep, luscious brown. If only she could lose that sour look and maybe untwist her hair from that tight bun stacked on her head. She'd be quite gorgeous if she did that, actually. Her hair looks like it has a gorgeous curl to it, if she'd let it, a luscious brown cascade to frame her olive face. If she lightened up, I think she would be totally entrancing.

She helps me lug my stuff out of the back of the car and into the lobby of the building. She taps a fob on the entrance panel then hands the keychain to me, the keys clanking against each other. "This is yours. One's the door; one's the mail. Don't lose it. You'll have to pay for a new one."

"All right," I say. "Who put your knickers in a twist this morning?" She blinks at me like I'm speaking a foreign language, and I will confess I did just say that to wind her up. I take a not insignificant amount of delight in knowing that I succeeded. "So what number am I?"

"Forty-three," she says, gesturing across the room. "The elevator's this way."

"Well, you've already scoped the place out." She glares at me again. If she's not careful, I'm gonna end up thinking that she's really, really hot because that's the kind of look girls tend to give you when they want you to wind them up more because they love the tease.

But Olivia is definitely not enjoying this, and I also don't want to get hit, so I decide to back off. We hop in the elevator together, my bags forcing us to stand shoulder to shoulder. From here, I get a whiff of her perfume. It's not overpowering, but noticeable enough that you know exactly who you're standing next to. I think that says a lot about her. She's the kind of girl who's not going to take any shit whatsoever. I can respect that.

I can also feel how tense she is. Maybe I should suggest we go for a massage together. If she's going to insist on staying three feet behind me at all times, then I'm going to make sure we have some fun with it.

Finally, we get to my new apartment. Olivia gestures to the door, and we both stand staring at it for a long moment before I remember that I've got the key. I give her a sheepish smile, then fumble with the key until finally, I let myself in.

It's a big space, bigger than the one I have at home. And it's clean — the floors look like no one's ever walked on them. Impressive for cream carpets. "Sick," I say to myself.

"Cheers for the drive," I say, hoping that Olivia will get the hint. But she doesn't. Of course. She just stands there in the doorway, looking at me like I've done something wrong or am about to do something wrong.

In fairness, that's not too far from the truth, but she doesn't need to know that. "I think I've got it from here. Thanks," I say flashing her my very best little grin.

She remains unswayed. "Unlucky for you, I have to make sure that you get settled in."

"Great," I sigh, looking around. My plans are starting to feel like they're circling the drain. "Well, I guess we can take my bags through to my bedroom."

"Don't you think you have enough in there already?" Olivia folds her arms as she takes a step forward.

I blink in confusion. "You put all my bags in the bedroom?"

"Somebody had to," she mutters. I'm starting to realize that she must have agreed to all this before she really knew what she was letting herself in for.

Before I can say anything else, she marches over to my bag and starts dragging it away, her bare shoulders flexing under the strain. I take one cheeky second to look at her before I go to help. That flight must have really messed my brain up.

I just need her to leave so I can go out and get laid. That'll sort me out.

With a grunt, I pick up the rest of my bags and haul them after Olivia to my room. As I step in, the quantity of stuff I shipped over dawns on me. There are boxes and bags everywhere, a complete mess — in devastating contrast to my lovely, tidy living room.

"Are you hungry?" Olivia asks, struggling with the bag as she tries to maneuver around to some of the free floor space so she can drop the thing with a thump. I feel kind of bad about making her carry some of this stuff now. How was I supposed to know that she would pick up the heaviest bag, though?

"Not really," I lie. I hardly ate anything on the plane. I didn't really feel like potato slop. But I can always grab something to eat when I'm out, so I'm not that worried about starving. I just need her to go away.

"I see," she says, disbelievingly. "I can order us something in if you want to get settled."

"No, no, it's okay, really," I say, possibly too quickly. She narrows her eyes at me like she's seeing through me as clearly as a window.

"We can go out if you'd prefer." She folds her arms, drawing my attention back to them. She's not ripped, but clearly she's strong. Clearly, she knows how to work out.

"Oh, no, I don't want to bother you if you've got better things to do."

She bites her lip before she replies. "Look, I have so many other things I want to be doing instead of this, but I'm here doing my job which, unfortunately for both of us, is looking after you like a three-year-old."

"Well then, just go home. I'm tired, yeah?"

"Are you now?" she says, folding her arms.

The yawn that slips out is genuine, even if it was mostly for show. She still doesn't seem persuaded, but she does give in. Finally! "Okay, okay. You take a nap, and I'll be back later to pick you up for a meeting at the club. The managers can't wait to meet you."

"Awesome," I mutter. "Bye, then."

She doesn't bother to even look back at me as she leaves, shutting the door softly behind her.

I let out a huge sigh of relief and flop backwards onto the sofa. Nothing I said to her was a lie — I am tired, and if I shut my eyes, I could pass out for the next few hours. But as much as I want sleep, I want a drink more. Olivia was pretty enough to look at for a while, but I want to find some girls to dote on me. Someone I can charm.

If I lie here for much longer though, I am going to doze off. Time for a shower instead. I strip out of my plane clothes and jump in, cranking the temperature as hot as I can bear. It feels so good to be unconfined, unwatched, unrestrained. This place is going to be awesome.

Eventually, I drag myself out of the shower, dig out some clean clothes and brush my hair. I glance at the clock, surprised that only twenty minutes have passed. Which is a good thing. Olivia must have left the building by now.

I look at the mass of boxes and shrug. "Whatever," I mutter to myself, heading out the door. Unpacking can wait. It's time to explore the land of the free.