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“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I have a spare room. I don’t see why not.”
“Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”
Yes.
I smirk. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now stop being ungrateful and say yes.”
She laughs, looking up at me with her wide innocent eyes. “Okay, Miller. That’s really nice of you. Yes. Thank you.”
I nod like it’s no big deal like I’m simply helping out a friend in need.
But she’s not my friend. Already, she’s so much more than that.
And now we’re going to be staying under one roof, I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself.
Chapter Nine
Macie
“It’s not much,” Miller says, standing close to my shoulder as we look over his spare bedroom. “But it’s yours for as long as you need it.”
I gaze over the massive bedroom, with the king size bed and the floor to ceiling windows with views of the city. The floor is sleek hardwood, with a fish tank taking up one wall, exotic colorful fish flitting here and there. There’s an ensuite and a gorgeous desk that looks perfect for writing.
“Wow,” I murmur in disbelief.
But then disbelief has become my resting state ever since Miller came to my apartment. When we went back upstairs to pack, I felt for sure he was going to burst into my bedroom with a vicious grin on his face. I was certain he was going to tell me the idea of me staying with him made him sick.
Why are you helping me? I wanted to scream, but I already know the answer.
He’s a nice person.
There’s nothing more to it than that.
“Not much?” I say, jolting out of my daydreams. “It’s incredible. Are you sure I can stay here?”
“Get in there.”
He laughs deeply as his hand brushes the small of my back, softly nudging me into the room.
My skin shivers with the contact, my heart drumming with insane speed at the barest touch, awakening things inside of me.
“Only if you’re sure…” I turn to him, gazing up into his eyes. “I don’t want to take advantage.”
His dark blue eyes swirl with hidden meaning, or perhaps I’m superimposing how I wished they swirled.
He drinks me in as he gazes at me. That’s what it feels like, as though he’s greedily consuming every part of me with his eyes, stowing heat-filled vignettes away for later.
But that’s what I’m doing, I realize as I gaze up at him, my eyes flitting over his tensed jaw and his pulsing temples, the tendons in his neck tight, his whole body bulging like he could erupt.
“You are not taking advantage,” he snarls.
A shiver moves through me when he puts the emphasis on you, as though he’s trying to imply he’s the one taking advantage.
But how the heck is that possible when he’s the one opening his home to me, a complete stranger?
My mind spins around and around, landing on the possibility that he’s planning on taking advantage of me in some way.
“What do you mean?” I manage to whimper.
His smirk twitches and he takes a step back, out of the room, waving a hand as he half-turns away. “Get some rest. I’ll start making arrangements for your apartment to be combed. In the meantime, try to relax. Work on your writing. Do some reading. Whatever you like.”
“I’ll try and get some sleep,” I say, knowing it’s going to be impossible with all the hectic events of today stacked up in my mind.
“Good idea.”
He turns and strides down the hallway, which is becoming his signature, leaving me to gaze at the way his back sways from side to side, to drink in the sight of his taut muscles and the way his suit jacket clings to him.
I shut the door once he’s rounded the corner, my hand straying down to the lock.
I hold it there for a few long moments, debating whether or not to turn it.
It would be the smart thing to do, the expected thing to do, lock the door to give myself some privacy and safety. But the crazy part of me – the part buried deep inside that sends pulsating waves through me faster and faster each moment – screams at me to leave it unlocked just in case…
I unshoulder my backpack and stroll over to the bed, my footsteps clipping against the floor. I packed light because I shouldn’t be here long, and this is weird enough without bringing a whole freaking suitcase.
If you decide to stay permanently, that deep-inside voice whispers, you can always go back and get the rest of your stuff.
I laugh drily and smooth my hands over my belly, shaking my head at the ridiculous notion. There’s no freaking way I’m going to end up staying here on a long-term basis.
I take my laptop from my bag and wander over to the desk, kneeling down to plug it in. The desk is large but underneath it’s bulky and I almost get stuck under there, laughing at myself because that would be one heck of an impression if Miller did decide to come back and visit me.
