The Billionaire's Nanny

Forgiven

Lucas stood behind me as he ushered me into his bedroom. The right choice, since I could not trust myself to not make a run for it the moment I got the chance.

I paused to take in the sight of the room. I could easily tell it was his room as a teen because well it still looked like a teenage boy's room, a few things had probably been replaced, like the bar in the corner of the room and the bed that was now much larger than what a teen's bed would look like and the expensive looking rug at the foot of the bed, but the posters of famous celebrities and a long sheet of paper hanging off the wall that said "Lucas's to-do list," made it retain the charm of teenagehood.

It felt good to be in here getting even the slightest glimpse at what his life looked like as a boy. Countless trophies hung off the shelf on the wall and after reading the description on each, I concluded Lucas was a nerd, a sexy nerd. Most of them were from interstate challenges and high school competitions, while a few of them were won internationally.

"You keep these here?" I was no science genius, but if I had a shelf full of trophies from high school I would keep them right in front of my bed, so they would be the very first thing I got to see every morning.

"Mom takes pride in seeing them, so I left them behind for her," he said from the door. He leaned on the doorway, arms folded as he watched me take in the sight of the room. "I see them every time I come here, so it's no problem."

"How many are there?" I asked curiously.

"64." he shrugged.

"64?!"

"Or so," he gave a sheepish smile as he scratched his neck, "don't look at me like that, I had weird hobbies growing up."

"I'm just amazed," I turned back to back to continue admiring each piece.

"They won't break if you touch them, Chris," he said cooly.

"I'd rather not take chances," I moved over to the picture of him on the wall. It was a really younger version of Lucas—maybe teen, still as sexy in a tux, and it looked like a school party or something close.

"Prom Night," he informed me. "It's the only picture I got from that night," he chuckled.

"How do you look that handsome and take just a picture?" I raised a brow.

With a smug grin, he said, "while I'm flattered that you think I'm handsome..."

"You know you are,"

"Well..." he shrugged, and gave a contradicting smirk, before going on. "I was terribly shy as a teen, up until graduation. Actually, I was dragged to that party by my friends that night, a much rather alternative for me would have been to stay locked in my room trying to figure out new ways to get into the college I wanted to go to."

"It's hard to imagine you anything close to shy," I bit back laughter at the thought.

"Better believe it, I have changed a whole damn lot, but yes that was a time in my life. I would love to see your prom pictures too."

I scoffed, turning around and heading for the bed, "I would love to show them if they were any."

"You didn't go to prom?!"

I nodded, plopping on the bed, "living off the streets does not exactly provide you the luxury of dressing fancy for prom."

He wanted to say something, probably thought better of it and finally walked into the room. I was glad that he did not judge me or say anything else, most people hardy looked past the degree. The door clicked shut following his entrance and I knew it was time to get to the reason I was even talking to him in the first place.