9

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ISABELLA

I groan in pain, pulling the blanket covering me over my eyes. The sunlight floods through the white sheets, making my headache worse. I try to reposition my aching body. But my eyes spring open when the realization hits me; I do not own white sheets.

I tear the covers off and stare at the unfamiliar room. An awful smell invades my nose, I see the vomit stains all over my dress and instantly stand. Just as I'm about to pry myself out of my clothes, I notice a bright green sticky note hanging on the lamp.

"Calm down, you're safe in my apartment. Take the Advil and go to the next sticky note on the door – Miles."

So, I'm in Miles' apartment, taking part in a scavenger hunt with post-it notes. Releasing a deep breath, I dry swallow the Advil and walk to the next post-it.

"Do not come out of this room until you walk in this door and shower, you need one - Miles."

"Rude," I mutter under my breath, even though he's not wrong. I push open the door and when I see myself in the mirror, I instantly strip and step into the shower. I need something stronger than soap to cleanse me. Maybe bleach.

When my body is red from scrubbing and I've deemed myself clean enough to get out, I look around for something to wear. The only clean thing is the robe hanging on the door. Shrugging, I wrap the soft fabric around my naked body and brush my teeth with the brand-new toothbrush sitting on the sink.

I did not picture Miles to be the type of guy with spare toothbrushes. As my mind wanders to why he would have them, I quickly ignore the thoughts.

There is one more sticky note on a door that says, "exit here." I open the other door and amble down a long plain hallway into what seems to be a living room. To the right, I see Miles at the kitchen table eating cereal.

"Miles?" My voice catches his attention and I pull the robe tighter around my body.

He smiles when our eyes meet and stands up, striding over. I swallow when I notice his plaid pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He has no shirt on, so I see his chiseled chest girls always talk about. Now I know why they talk about it.

"Good morning," he says. His brown hair is tousled like he just woke up and the bags under his eyes are quite noticeable but don't take away from his good looks. "I see you followed the sticky notes, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, still really dizzy. Thank you for the Advil and for letting me shower."

"No problem, sorry I didn't have any clean clothes for you." His hand rubs the back of his neck, causing his muscles to ripple. I feel hot wrapped in this robe. "It was that robe or a t-shirt of mine."

I would have worn his t-shirt. But I lie, and say, "This is good, thanks."

He pulls out a dining room chair and nods toward it, signaling for me to sit.

Once I'm seated, he asks, "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice?"

"No, thanks."

He continues walking to the kitchen, anyway. "Too bad, I'm getting you coffee."

I watch his abs flex as he reaches for a mug in the cabinet. He pours me a cup, and before he can ask, I tell him how I take it. "A little bit of creamer with one spoonful of sugar, please."

At first, he just stares at me confused, but then a playful grin fills his face. "You were watching me, were you?"

"You wish."

He walks over and sets the cup in front of me. In my peripheral vision, I notice him flex his abs, attempting to get me to look. I hold back my laughter.

"I think you were. You can tell me how good I look, I don't mind." He unknowingly runs his fingers through his hair. He's toying with me.

"I've seen sexier." I shrug and he scowls playfully.

"Same goes for you." I narrow my eyes at his remark. Asswipe.

Just as I take my first sip, a wave of confusion washes over me. "Wait, why am I here Miles? I live right below you. Why couldn't you just take me to my place?"

"You don't remember anything from last night, do you?"

"No," I say, afraid to hear the answer.

He stares playfully. "What is the last thing you remember?"

I pull my feet against my body and relax against the seat, taking my mug with me. "I don't remember details, but I vaguely remember dancing with you and—" I stop talking, my face falters as memories of us dancing flash in my mind. His hands on my body while pressed against me, his lips grazing my ear, my body heating from the encounter... "Then it goes blank. What else did I do?"

He shifts in his chair, making himself comfortable. "Where do I start? You passed out in the house, I picked you up and carried you to my car. I drove home as fast as I could, just in case you woke up and puked, but you didn't." He pauses. "Not then at least."

My eyes go wide with embarrassment. "I got you into the elevator. That's when you started waking up.

"We got to your floor, I tried opening the door, but it was locked. So, I asked if you knew where your key was. You weren't much help, so I looked in your purse. I know that's private, but I had no other choice. Long story short, I didn't find a key. I called Sierra and told her about the complications, she said she was staying over at Jasper's house with Addy since they were all too drunk to drive so I offered just to take you back to my place." He throws his hands up and looks around. "Here we are."

I release my lip that was clenched between my teeth, getting ready to speak, but he cuts me off. "Oh no, sweet Isabella, the story isn't over yet."

I groan. I don't know how much more I can take.

"We took the elevator up here and once it started moving, you fell into me and puked, all over the fucking elevator and on yourself. Good thing vomit doesn't bother me." Oh my God. "I dragged you to my spare bedroom, took your shoes off, and put you in bed. You were crying."

"Oh," is all I say.

"Then you eventually passed out," he laughs.

I shake my head and press my palms against my eyes. "I'm so sorry I ruined your night."

"No, you didn't ruin it, Bell. It was pretty shitty to begin with but spending time with you made it one-hundred times better." I look away, smiling. I don't know how dragging my drunk, puking self everywhere made his night better.

"The puke was revenge for the game."

"I'll take it." A grin lifts his lips. "If you need to get more revenge, swing right here." He taps his cheek.

My eyes grow wide. "You're asking me to hit you?"

He nods and reaches for my hand resting in my lap. He lifts it to his face and my fingers instinctively cup his cheek. My skin prickles from the feeling of his skin under my hand. Without breaking eye contact, he says, "Right here. Take a swing."

I stare into his brown eyes, not moving. Then I take a deep breath, remove my hand and flick his forehead. His eyebrows furrow and dimples decorate his face as he holds the spot I flicked. "Ouch."

Reaching for my coffee cup, I take a long sip to hide my smile.

✤

A week has passed since I woke up in Miles' apartment. Sierra has gone home, Addy is officially dating Jasper, and then there's me. Huddled in my bedroom with piles of work and books, studying for exams.

As for Miles, I haven't truly spoken to him since that day. Just like I predicted, he would let me go once all my problems were sorted out. Well, most problems were still there, but he didn't need to know that. 

Jake still tried calling every once in a while; I'd decline, or Addy would answer for me. 

"Hey, Isabella's in the shower. She can't talk now."

"Can you tell her to call me after?"

"No, stop calling." 

And now we've blocked him. 

"We are going to be late for class!" Addy pulls me out of our apartment. We wouldn't be late for class, at least I wouldn't. She just wants to have lip sex with Jasper in the bathroom.

But I still left with her because I enjoy seeing her happy. When Addy formerly introduced me to Jasper, he was a sweet, down-to-earth guy who I could tell respected her. I still gave him a stern talk not to hurt her, but I'm not worried.

When we get to the campus, she says goodbye and speed walks away. I snort to myself and continue in the opposite direction. Something catches my eye and I look over to find Miles leaning up against a wall with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Beneath him stands a petite girl, looking into his eyes. 

I hastily look away as unwelcoming feelings invade my chest. The sight launches me into reality, reminding me that Miles and I are nothing. Needing to get away, I quickly turn on my heel. 

"Bell!" I hear his voice bellow across the courtyard. I don't turn around; I continue walking forward. "Bell, wait up!" he shouts again but I don't budge.

When I think he's done trying to get my attention, I turn around to find him with his friends. But he isn't paying any attention to them, his eyes are fixed on me.

Following my class, I retreat to the library like usual. But the more I come here, the more I realize this is not a private space any longer. Everyone who wants to take their turn getting under my skin finds me here. Like Noel, who is sauntering toward me.

His hair is slicked back with enough gel to make him look like a greaser. "Hey baby," he says.

Without looking up, I turn the page in my textbook and ask, "What do you want, Noel?"

"Would you like some company?"

"No, thanks." I cast a cocky smile.

"I'm only trying to be friends, Gallagher."

My patience is quite slim today, but I keep calm. Choosing to ignore him, I continue working, but he doesn't get the hint and leans closer. "You don't have to keep playing hard to get."

Just as I'm about to go off, Miles walks over, stopping me. "Hey Noel, Amanda with the blond hair is looking for you."

"The one with the big ass?" Noel asks and Miles nods. Then Noel winks at me, pats Miles' back, thanking him, and disappears. When he's out of sight, Miles turns to me with a smile. "Hey."

"I didn't need your help," I say.

"He was being a dick."

"I'm used to it," I say, indirectly talking about Miles and his friend's group. I stare at my computer, avoiding eye contact. But he waits incredibly long to reply, so I look to see if he's still there.

To no surprise, he's still here, staring accusingly. "You've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy studying for exams," I say. It's the truth, as is the part of me avoiding him. After our sleepover, I was too embarrassed to face him. For all I know, his friends might know everything that happened.
Out of nowhere, my computer closes and Miles' hand rests on top, holding it shut. "What the hell!" I shout, trying to pry his hand off, but he doesn't budge.

"Darlin'—"

"I was working!"

He says my name, but I continue cursing at him.

"Miles, leave me alone. I don't want to deal with this today. Noel was enough."
"Isabella." His hand leaves my computer and cups my face. I freeze, and my mouth clamps shut. His stupid, beautiful eyes bore into mine and cause my stomach to turn upside down.

His serious expression turns into a wicked smile. I watch his gaze move from my eyes to my mouth. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, and he pulls it out from my teeth, licking his lip ever so slightly.

"Let me take you out to dinner."

My stomach bottoms out and I whisper, "No."

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm picking you up at six."

"I have work."

"I'll pick you up from work."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Of course, when I need to speak, my voice fails me. I can't deny the minute feelings I have toward him. Whether it's a budding friendship or the fact that I find him attractive.

"What about the girl from earlier?"

"That was a mistake."

"Am I going to be a mistake?"

My comment catches him off guard. He stares at me wordlessly, then leans closer. "For my sake, I hope not."

I look away, trying to hide my smile. "I get off work at eight, I know it's late but pick me up at eight-thirty?"

"Deal." I see how excited he is about my answer. "Dress nicely, I'm taking you somewhere fancy."

I hope this isn't a mistake, for my sake.

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