4 ◇ Close

◇ Milan ◇

Kel tilted her chin and ignored the uncomfortable thumping in her chest. Her back strained to stay straight as she met a pair of deep-set eyes, whose color was darkened by the room's dim lighting.

On her hotel bed sat the last person she expected to run into today. He sat by the foot of the bed, his hands pressing round seams on the covers. His slouching crinkled his shirt and pants. His back was to the windows, and the vivid, late-afternoon sunlight made a silhouette of his figure.

Their stares focused on each other. "What're you doing here?" she sighed, unable to put up with the tense silence. The door shut closed when she leaned on the cool surface. The room now looked too still. Kel drew in a quick breath, hoping her unease wasn't too evident in her expression.


"He's nice.
" Drew forced a smile. His voice sounded quite hoarse. "You met his family yet? Very interesting folks. Lots of connections."


"What?
What're you doing here, anyway?" Kel squinted at his smug expression. His dodging did nothing to satisfy her curiosity, and she really didn't know the exact reason why he flew all the way here.


His forehead and thick eyebrows rumpled.
"Came here to see you."


"What for?
" She maintained a stern and fairly indifferent tone. "You have work," she reminded.


"So do you.
"


"Does Rob know you're here?
" She put on a straight face. His manager must be going berserk by now. Drew had just been cast in another big-budget Hollywood film, and she didn't want anyone to think that she was hampering his boosting career. Again.


Drew gave a nod and then pushed himself off of the bed.
"When'd you two meet?" he asked next.


Was he curious about Miles?
Probably. 


But did she owe him an explanation?
Not really. 


"Let's talk a bit.
" Drew proceeded to where she stood. His strides were sluggish and his hands were in his pockets. His unwavering gaze was starting to give her palpitations.


Kel straightened her posture.
The back of her head bumped onto the peephole. Her legs now felt quite numb against the rough fabric of her jeans, and his question told her his chat with Miles wasn't that informative. "If you have somewhere to be, stop wasting your time," she said after dropping her gaze.

Drew stood before her, his broad figure holding her attention. His personal trainer really got him jacked for his last movie. The meticulous diet and regular workouts clearly rubbed off on him.

She kept still against the door, thankful that the A/C unit was turned off. Her hands were now cold enough from nervous sweat. Her throat nearly closed up when Drew took a few more steps closer, his shadowed eyes still poring on hers.


"I missed you," he murmured with a slight frown.
His accent sounded fainter than she remembered.


Her back went as rigid as concrete at the same time her breathing hitched.
Mykaela wanted to move, but her feet felt pinned on the carpet. Her refusal to answer prolonged her wordless admiration of his candor.

"Did you even read them?" Drew now stood so close to her that his thigh brushed against the side of her pants. He was the same height as Miles, but Drew seemed taller. His formerly  brown hair now appeared black, thick and quite disheveled, but it suited his complexion. "Sent you emails after emails," he mumbled. Drew leaned in, his pointed nose stopping barely an inch away from her face.

"I know..." was all she said in reply. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to add that she'd read all of his emails and cried over a few.

With caution, Drew placed his hand on the curve of her waist. He gave it a light squeeze. "Is it serious?'' His tone was rather uninterested, but the steely look he was giving her stated otherwise. "Looks like it."

For a moment she couldn't muster up a sensible response; her brain was busy liking his familiar scent. It was the perfume she bought him for his 31st birthday...months before she left the city and broke up with him.

"Is he taking care of you?" he said when she only kept staring at his chest, his voice drifting to a whisper. Drew sighed and dipped his head. His breath warmed her cheek and neck, and smelled faintly of mint. His soft hands cupped her face while she stayed as still as a lamppost.

Only then did she notice he wasn't wearing his wedding ring. His thumbs were below her cheekbones, and his strong fingers weaved into her tangled head of hair.

"Why'd you have to leave?" A deeper frown stayed on his lips, his dark brows furrowing again. His face was too close that she could precisely hear his breathing.


The air in the room suddenly felt stuffier.
When her limbs finally felt like they regained mobility, Kel pushed away his hands holding her head still. She matched his scowl, and she scoffed to seem unfazed. "You really want me to answer that?"


Drew backed off.
"Could we have a proper conversation for a minute, at least?" His tone didn't remain gentle and irritation sounded clear in his voice now, but he tried to keep calm. 


Mykaela didn't react.
He didn't need to know that she wanted to leave now and teleport to somewhere far, far away—from him and everything else. Nor did he need to know why she left him and moved in with Miles.


It was a while before either of them spoke again.
"You're living with him?" Drew asked brusquely, not caring if Miles could hear him from outside.


At the thought, a smidgen of relief calmed her nerves, but she knew Miles had gone to his room.
She'd heard a door shut just minutes ago. Miles must be packing her things now, and since Fashion Week was already over, she knew Miles was now itching to go back to Brescia.

"Mykaela." Drew sighed when she clamped her lips shut. The dimness of the narrow doorway was increasing her anxiousness, and the fact that he was trapping her in such a confined space wasn't helping at all.

Her mouth felt parched now. She glanced up at him, hoping her breathing would stay steady.  Tiny freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. His forehead was still creased, but he wasn't scowling anymore. If her eyes weren't deceiving her, she would say that he looked sad and disappointed.

As they went on playing the staring game, he touched her cheek again, then everted her lower eyelid, his hands feeling warmer than his breath on her mouth. "You taking your vitamins?"

A flimsy nod was her only response. She tried to swallow the lump of tension stuck in her throat, fearing her legs would just buckle if he took another step closer.

"I missed you," he muttered. His thumb traced her eyebrow. Drew stressed each word, as if he were waiting for her to say them back.

It took her a moment to gather what remained of her composure. His overattentive eyes were just...paralyzing.  Kel looked away. Her hands didn't tremble—thank heavens—and she pushed his shoulders bit by bit. He got too close again.

Drew stepped back and heaved another sigh. His hands were now on the waistband of his black pants. His picturesque profile held her attention as he blankly regarded the dull wallpaper. "The least you can do is pretend you're somehow glad to see me, y'know?" Drew turned to his left and pressed his lips together.

Crap. He's genuinely pissed now.

"I'm glad to see you," she retorted. Trying to be as calm as possible took courage while lying to his face. The statement was a partial truth, nonetheless. She did miss him, too. She just didn't think there was any point in telling him. 

"You sure he's a good enough replacement? Have you even met his folks?"

"No."  Kel feigned composure and stayed closelipped, struggling to keep her eyes focused on his. His lips just distracted her she couldn't even think straight. She forced her feet to move and pushed past him when he tried to block the way. 


Drew caught her wrist before she could take another step.
The immediate contact made her flinch. "Don't change your number."


"I won't.
" She tried to wiggle out of his firm grip. She groaned when he kept ogling her, his quizzical gaze indicating his doubt.


Drew smiled for a second but then shook his head.
He was the one leaning against the door now, his hand already clasping the doorknob. "Still a terrible liar..." He grinned. He just hugged her when she made a face,  then walked out the door without saying anything else.


"You could've just told him I was anywhere but in the city."

"Yeah. If only he didn't hire a dozen private eyes when you took off," her sister muttered on the other line.

Mykaela shut up after Jill's reply.


True.
Andrew Mihhailov had obsessed over her disappearance for quite a while. She'd heard he even hired private investigators to track her down. It seemed he just couldn't take the hint. It was as though he hadn't seen or read a single tabloid in his entire life, most of today's having been vilely intrusive about their relationship. Well, former relationship.


"What?
You want me to apologize?" Jill asked with a giggle, seeming unimpressed by her early-morning sulking.


"Would be nice," Kel sighed.
As she furiously rubbed a soap-drenched sponge onto the floor tiles, she cursed herself in her head, well aware of the three things Miles hated about having a roommate.


Number one on the list?


Sharing.


Being an only child—for 27 years and counting—"sharing" wasn't particularly present in his vocabulary.
Also, every one of their friends knew Miles only took her in and let her cohabit with him in his uber-expensive apartment out of pure pity (her parents weren't filthy rich like his), and for that one time she helped him finally get rid of an apparently psychotic ex.


Number two?


Sharing a kitchen.

And third on the list:

Sharing a kitchen and having a roommate who didn't appreciate kitchen hygiene as much as he did. Yep. He could be such a neat freak, too.


Raspberry syrup.
It used to be her favorite—like, two hours ago. She had left the bottle of syrup on the countertop when she heard her loud Joy Division ringtone, knowing it was her sister calling. Upon placing her empty plate of pancakes in the sink, she turned and slipped and nearly fell on her face.

Now the notoriously dark red stain wouldn't seem to go away...no matter how hard she scrubbed and scrubbed. And it didn't help that the huge kitchen tiles were almost the shade of white. Freakin' white!

"Well, I don't feel like it," was what Jill replied, her voice rather scratchy, the cellphone still on the empty dining table. It was loud on speaker mode.


Kel kept frowning.
But the noise didn't bother her as much as the stain. Miles wouldn't be up anytime soon anyway; his art show had been rescheduled. And around four a.m., she had heard him still thrashing paint cans in his basement studio. "Why'd you even agree to meet up with him?"


"Hey.
Not fair. What? Am I not allowed to hang out with old friends?" Jill hastily replied over the phone. "Besides, Drew just wanted to talk to you, make sure you're still alive and breathing," her sister said with another quiet laugh.


"Don't tell him anything more.
Next time he calls you, just...ignore his charming talk and stuff."


"Right.
" Jill snorted. "Keep that in mind, Ms. Supermodel."


"Very funny.
" Kel scoffed. Lately, paranoid thoughts randomly crept into her mind, especially after her sister blabbed to Drew. Not that she never wanted to see him in person again. But...that last time had shaken her to her core. Maddeningly so.


Jill probably didn't understand it.
It was a great thing Miles lived nowhere near the city. For sure, Drew would have a difficult time tracking her down now—living "off-the-grid" was Miles' favorite hobby. Especially when he was struggling to finish a painting. He was such a serious artist whenever he wasn't partying all night with friends crazy-popstar-on-crack style.


"I wouldn't be like this if you just kept the storytelling to a minimum.
"


"Never gonna hear the end of it, am I?
" Jill said in her complaining, high-pitched voice, which her sister used every time they bickered about something. "How's Miles, by the way?"


"Fine.
"


"Haven't chatted lately.
Seems real busy like you," Jill muttered. "He seein' anyone seriously? Or that psycho ex of his kept him off the dating pool for good?"


The question made Kel chuckle.
It had been a while since she'd talked about her living situation with Miles to her family.


At first, Jill and their mom had been upset and shocked by her  decision to move in with a newfound friend, and in Italy, at that.
But after a couple of video calls, Mykaela's family had taken a liking to Miles and seemed to trust him now.

She didn't just share rooms with him, though. They actually shared a two-storey, 4,300-square foot modernist apartment in Brescia, with three rooms and bathrooms, a studio-type basement, and a ludicrously high-maintenance swimming pool with a Jacuzzi. "Oh, y'know...still annoyingly rich." Kel sighed to herself and gave up.

A pink stain still marked at least two kitchen tiles, and her arms already felt sore from failed attempts to make the floor squeaky clean again. She just hoped Miles would be too sleepy to notice anything by the time he got here.

"Still painting like crazy?" Jill asked a moment later, sounding busy with mommy duties. Her baby was making cute giggly noises in the background.


"Yeah.
How's Baby Meesha?" Kel stood up and couldn't stop smiling. Jill had sent her photos of the family's new baby; Meesha seemed to have gotten her mom's genes and none of her dad's. "Could you fly her soon? I'll babysit for a week! Tell David."


"In a couple months, sure.
" Jill laughed a little. "Wanna bring her to London soon. His folks are pretty excited."


"Promise?
Or I could just hop on a flight to London."


"D'you even have time for that?
"


"Maybe.
" Kel checked her schedule on her phone. She would be work-free in a few months' time, if Miles wouldn't push her to go back to school, that is.

He'd been rather encouraging about it when she brought up the subject of going back to med school—supportive friend that he was. But it also reminded her how much money she still had to save up. Her parents hadn't really set serious financial plans for their second daughter to have a future in the medical career.


"I'll think about it," Jill replied on the other end.
"David's not comfortable with her travelling on planes yet. I wanted to see your show, y'know."

"Fine. But I wanna see the baby soon." Mykaela wiped the sweat on her face with her shirt sleeve, her skin now itching for a cold shower.

"Sure.  Hey, talk later. Mom's leaving."

"Fine. Call me—" She glanced at the screen. Jill ended the call before she could finish saying goodbye. Still alone in the kitchen, Mykaela fixed her jaw-length hair into a ponytail. She glanced at the time on the wall clock by the dining table. 9:25AM.

If he would be up before twelve, she might as well fix up lunch for them both. What would Miles want for brunch, though?

Before she could start piling up salad ingredients on the large island counter, she heard thumps on the stairs beside the living room. The spiral staircase was nowhere near, but because the big apartment was as quiet as a mouse in the morning, she could hear manly grunts as the thumps got louder.

Another bad hangover, she guessed. Miles seemed to enjoy combining alcohol with abstract ideas for artistic inspiration these days.

As she started tossing leafy greens and salad dressing into a big bowl, she watched Miles almost haul his lean but muscular six-foot-two build towards the counter. Kel raised a brow at the exhaustion on his face. "Anyone from the gallery call? You could've just slept in; they rescheduled your show."


"I know," Miles muttered, his voice unusually low and gruff.


Too much whiskey?
Perhaps. "Take two Advils and hydrate," she advised with an eye roll. Kel started mixing the salad ingredients. Aside from the fact that they banned mayo from touching their salads, they both didn't like eating heavy in the morning. Especially when they were on their way to a fitting or a fashion show.


"I need the beach.
"


"What?
" She giggled and studied him. She was standing across from his slouching frame as he sat by the counter, his tan face resting on his right palm. "Wanna go to the beach?"


"Can't.
I gotta finish the second painting." His scowl made his lips pout, emphasizing their shape. His long-lashed eyes were closed.


"You haven't finished it last night?
You were up till dawn."


His eyes flew open.
Her words seemed to have shaken him awake now. Miles regarded her with a glare. "Thanks for rubbing it in."


Kel laughed.
She didn't mean to sound critical at all. But she just didn't think he wouldn't be able to finish his latest artwork; he usually finished a life-size painting in as early as five days. "What's the matter, maestro?" she asked with a mix of amusement and concern in her tone.


"You fixin' me breakfast?
"

"What's it look like?" She scrunched her nose.

"I like it when you make me salads and eggs. Only thing you can cook right," Miles muttered while scratching his bare chest, a small grin curving his mouth now. His eyelids were shut again as his head swayed in mid-air.


"How dare you!
" she responded with an exaggerated gasp. "I make a mean burrito and salsa, mister."


"Nah.
Passable."


"What?
" she almost shouted. "You've eaten almost everything I made in this house." Kel threw a piece of carrot at him.


It hit the dark skin below his eyes.
Miles pulled a face at her. "If ever your cooking finally got past the fair to middling line, I'll be the first to let you know."


"Jerk!
"


"Overconfident scullion.
"


"At least I'm kind enough to feed that ravenous creature dwelling in your gut 24/7.
" She couldn't help chuckling. He could barely keep his eyes open, but his quite harsh teasing told her he was wide awake now.

"Was that Jill?"

"Yeah. She called." Mykaela glanced at her phone on the edge of the counter, thankful that it wasn't as bothersome as yesterday. Turned out Drew had also gotten her new number from Jill and David, her husband. "Such a great sister you are..." had been her opening remark for Jill earlier.


"She's the culprit, huh?
I knew it." Miles snickered.


"Yep.
" Kel looked away and grabbed a plate for her roomie. She filled his plate with salad and a blueberry jam sandwich. "She said he hired another private eye."

"Aww...how sweet of him." Miles shook his head and chuckled to himself. "You know it's pretty much past obsession now, right?"

She didn't reply and handed him his food, going around the counter so he wouldn't have to stand up.

It was obvious his hangover was to blame for his constant grunts earlier while he trudged down the stairs. "Or...maybe he's just that in love, still." Miles hooked his muscular arm around her waist, winking at her from under his long lashes. "He looks good, by the way. I thought it was all just makeup. I know now why you just couldn't say no— Ow!"

She repeatedly spanked and swatted his arm away, and then watched Miles chuckle at her reaction.

"What?" He rubbed at the now pinkish skin of his forearm. "You definitely gave him some tongue action the other day. Don't even lie about— Ow! That hurt!" Miles covered his chest now and kept laughing. He knew well pestering her with more Drew-related thoughts was enough to ruin her entire morning.


"Don't really care what he does anymore," she mumbled and crossed her arms.
It wasn't completely true but, thinking of Drew all day would only give her more anxiety than she usually had to handle. Heartbreak and sleepless nights weren't the only things their breakup had left her.

"Wish I could say I sense BS and hard feelings somewhere else," her roomie retorted with another teasing look on his naturally tan features. Miles had pulled her to him again, his heavy arm wrapped around her smaller build. His dark hair somewhat smelled of whiskey and paint, as well. He put on a wide smile as they stared at each other. "Feed me, honey. I'm hungry.

"God gave you arms and hands for a reason, y'know."

"But I'm not feeling good," he reasoned with a childish pout. His head hung low as he placed his cheek against her chest.

"Shouldn't have restocked the fridge with booze," Kel muttered, ignoring his comment about her reaction to seeing Andrew again. Another lengthy discussion about her ex just didn't appeal to her. She had barely hung out with Miles all month due to their work schedules, and although they lived under one roof, needless to say, she missed his company.

"Just kidding about the tongue part." Miles stuffed a spoonful of salad into his mouth, then stuck his tongue out, his almond-shaped eyes filled with naughtiness.

A familiar silence got drawn out when she didn't respond. She knew Miles' thoughts on the issue were more serious than what he made her think. He probably even suspected she was entertaining Drew's near desperate pleas to talk to her again. Mykaela absently stared out the glass windows, unable to just wipe her memory of Drew's quick embrace back at the hotel.


Then she felt another pull.
Miles hugged her again.


Her curious gaze locked with his watchful hazel eyes, and they ended up chuckling at each other.
"Had breakfast yet? Dreamt of you again," he said after swallowing the crunchy stuff he was munching.


They'd only become close barely six months ago, but he was already one of her favorite people on Earth.
He was such a pleasant and cool guy to be around. It was what drew her to him right away—besides his generosity, his sincere friendship, and brutally honest opinions that sometimes blurred the line between masculine and feminine. His genuinely beautiful smile was another plus.

He was just that good-looking. Unfortunately, as much as she wanted him to be straight, Miles wasn't.

"Really? Miss me that often, huh."

"You had long hair and blue eyes. Cute." He drank the full glass of water she handed him. "My head hurts like a bitch. Don't drink past midnight, yeah?" Miles looked her in the eye. "Ever. Again." He made her sit beside him as they shared the salad on his plate; he was even spoon-feeding her. Maybe he didn't think she'd eaten enough this morning.


Besides being envious of his prodigality sometimes, living with him also made her think he wished he had siblings to boss around and discipline.
He was a caring friend, although he didn't want to seem that way at times. After that unplanned meeting with her ex, he must think she was going to stress over Andrew even more, and end up not eating properly again.


"I'm full," she complained when he was about to give her another spoon of salad.
She even rubbed her stomach convincingly. "Ate pancakes."


"I doubt they were big enough, but, okay.
" Miles finished his food and squinted his brown eyes at her. "Let's have lunch somewhere."


"You said...
" She watched him fix his long hair into a ponytail. "I thought you're gonna finish the paintings?"

"I'm gonna. I just need two hours or so. Are you saying no again?" Miles frowned and dropped his fork onto his plate, making a noise.

He was genuinely annoyed, she knew. Maybe he just worried she might be having trouble eating again. They actually hadn't shared a proper meal in a while. Fashion Weeks often made her forget about her health. Her steadfast plans to save up money also took up her time and attentions the past months. "Yeah. Okay. It's a date." Kel grinned sheepishly. "Hey. Paul texted me yesterday, asked if I'd heard from Niccolo."

"Have you?" Miles mumbled without looking at her.

"No. You?"


"No.
Niccolo's parents reported him missing."

"What?" She paused, surprised by the news. She was never friends with Niccolo, but she didn't wish the guy ill thoughts. "Since when?"


"August.
"


"Really?
" she muttered while Miles kept eating. "You think he's been...kidnapped?"

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