Keep Me In | DR3 | BOOK 1

70 - Time and Space

- August 16th, 2018 📍 Monaco -

"Now will you tell me what's going on?"

I remained silent, slamming the trunk of Max's Aston Martin onto my backpack filled with random belongings and heading over to the passenger side door. Glowering up at him, I reefed on the locked doors handle over. And over. And over.

"Come on, love. You were the one that told me to never speak to you again. Now, you're suddenly here, in Monaco-"

"Let me in the car," I sighed, standing up straight and relaxing my posture. I wasn't here for pet names, each letter of the word soaking their venom into my eardrums. Somehow, having him standing in front of me, calling me simply by the nickname he had called me for the past few months, was enough to make me consider getting on the first flight back to Toronto. To feed myself to the sharks. To make me want to go bungee jumping, without the bungee cord. Or deport myself to some deserted island in the Caribbean, where nobody could find me even if they tried.

I didn't want to hear it. Not after the past 24 hours I've had. "I'll explain later, alright? I just got off a flight. I'd like a nap, at least."

He nodded, though judging by the expression on his face he wasn't pleased by my answer. It was what he'd have to work with, whether he liked it or not. But at the same time, I understood that his questions were justified. I owed him some sort of explanation for showing up at his doorstep in desperate need of getting away from my family. From myself. From Eric.

From the life-changing decision I had made. Was this real life?

I was grateful, at the same time, that Max was really only asking surface level questions at this point. At my request, he complied. He remained quiet as he sat in the drivers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping the armrest between us, deep in thought. Though my eyes were shut, I wasn't asleep. He knew I wasn't asleep, which would have usually made me uncomfortable.

But nothing about Max being here was uncomfortable. He saved me. He was there for me, when he really didn't have to be. Not after the way I spoke to him the last time we talked. Oh, how things can change in two weeks.

"How long can I stay?"

Max parked his grey sports sedan in it's designated spot in the underground, taking my bag out of the boot for me, throwing it over his shoulder and leading me into the elevator. We remained silent until the lift dinged, opening up onto his floor. Max unlocked one of the four doors, and I followed him into his Monaco apartment.

It looked a lot like I thought it would, I recognized a lot of what I was looking at now from our multiple FaceTimes. I'd never admit to him that the brief tour he was currently giving me was unnecessary. I already knew where he kept the cups in the kitchen, where his home-gym was and that sometimes the machine could be a bit loud. I knew the door to the guestroom that would become the door to my room, almost directly across the hall from his bedroom. Thankfully it at least had it's own en-suite.

He entered the room, setting my bag down on the far side of the room, closest to the large window and private balcony doors. My eyes scanned the room, taking it all in. This would definitely do.

Max left me to unpack what little things I had, change, freshen up, telling me he'd find something for us to eat. I suggested ordering pizza, something nice and easy, before he nodded and shut the door behind him. I sighed, pressing my palms against the concrete wall as I turned to face the room. I can't believe I was really here. What was I doing? I checked my phone, a wave of relief washing over me. Dad and Carson had both stopped calling. The only thing on the screen was a text from Rory, one that had come in after I landed.