used to follow your older sister everywhere. It was very annoying.”
And just like that, one truth comes flooding back. Abri and Ren were close friends in high school. I was going through a rebellious stage and didn’t see my family or sister much, but who could forget Abri. The few conversations we had she would tell me how awful my hair was, and that I had horrible split ends and needed to wear a hat or wig instead of dying my hair.
Was Knight there?
I search my brain trying to bring up a memory of Knight. I find none. No, I couldn’t have known Knight back then. I only knew Abri for a year at most before she graduated with my sister. And my parents would have never let them bring boys over.
I never hung out with Abri or Ren outside of the house. I was in middle school still when they were in high school. There was no way I knew Knight.
But we were so close. We could have met back then. Before life damaged us both. Could we have been together then if our pasts hadn’t ruined us?
And how could I have forgotten, even a moment of my past?
14
Knight
I need to talk to Abri, but for once, she’s been avoiding me. I need to threaten her with her life if she so much as talks to Mila again. I’ve had Mila run ridiculous errands to keep her away from this building. Away from Abri, and if I’m honest, me.
I don’t know who’s more of a danger to Mila, Abri or me. But being gone keeps Mila safe.
But more than threatening Abri, I need to find out what she told Mila. I need to know how much Mila knows. So then I can figure out how to share my secret.
A loud knock pounds on my door, and I know it’s Mila. There is nothing soft about her. She’s fierce, independent and even though she has no business experience, if I spent a week teaching her how my company runs, I have no doubt she would take over with full energy and bring our profits up to an all-time high. Even the stupid tasks I’ve given her she’s tackled full on with all of her strength.
She found the best restaurant in all of Denver to host our luncheon at. My motorcycle and cars have never been cleaner. My schedule has never made better use of my time. And she saved me money while finding a better dry cleaner. Not to mention the countless clients she has persuaded to use our app with a simple email or phone call. She’s like a machine that doesn’t stop until she’s shut off.
Mila has a fire I can’t find a way to extinguish. Maybe she’s strong enough to survive the storm headed her way.
I don’t answer. I know Mila’s routine at this point, and she knows mine. She waits for exactly three-seconds for a response to her knock. One that I never give her. And then she walks in, not caring who is in my office. She’s walked in on countless meetings. The women I’m meeting with, look up at her with jealousy. The men with lust.
Mila doesn’t even realize she’s bringing attention to herself when she does it. She’s just pissed enough at me that it doesn’t matter.
“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”
She growls at me as she stomps into my office. I guess it’s not a good afternoon.
But I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s wearing a light gray jacket with a hot pink shirt underneath and bright pink pumps. Her hair, which was once curled, is disheveled on top of her head instead of her usual high ponytail that stays in its perfect place throughout the day, no matter what happens.
She takes a seat across from me, crossing her legs forcefully as her arms come crashing down on the armrests of the chair. I’m surprised she didn’t break the chair.
“Yes? I thought you were on your lunch break?”
She growls again.
I lean forward so I can stare down her shirt. I’m a bastard, but she doesn’t give me a snide remark for being a horny prick.
“Are you going to growl at me all afternoon, or are you going to tell me why you stormed into my office, even though you said you would never shorten a lunch break for me?”
She opens her red lipstick stained lips. I’ve never seen her reapply lipstick throughout the day, but somehow her lips are always red. Just like her