Finding Yourself || on hold

Chapter 8- So now he's Mr.Nice Guy

I decided to dedicate a chapter to @CirieQuinn for the amazing advice and awesome story! :)

Chapter 8

We sat in silence for the trip to Blake's mansion. Playing with my braid absentmindedly, I stared out of the long window at the scenery. There were tall palm trees just about everywhere, aligned in a perfectly horizontal formation. When the sun's rays peeked through them, they looked like a cliche painting. I guess I have to get used to that.

I heard someone clear their throat. Adverting my gaze from the California scenery, my eyes rested on Harold. He was grinning widely at me, leaning back in his sofa. He almost seemed at ease.

"Welcome home," He said softly as the limo painstakingly drove up a small hill. I gave Harold a weak smile before turning to Blake, who was apparently sitting next to me.

"Lemme guess, it's a huge mansion surrounded by an iron fence with two million servants?" I drawled. Blake gave me an odd look, his eyebrow raising slightly.

"Olivia, we're not in the eighteen hundreds," he informed me, a smirk plastered on his lips.

The limo came to a complete stop, but I couldn't see Blake's house. Blake leaned back in the couch, crossing his arms. He gave me a satisfied smile.

"What?" I questioned, imitating him. Blake gave me a small wink. Really? Didn't he hate me a few hours ago?

"You'll see," he replied. I rolled my eyes and looked away. Harold looked back and forth between Blake and I. Adjusting his glasses with a tan hand, he shook his head.

"You two... I have never seen two people so similar," he chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Blake's jet black hair. Slapping Harold's hands away, Blake muttered something incomprehensible while smoothing his hair down. Again.

Smirking in amusement, I plucked my coach bag from the carpeted ground and got out of the limo, not bothering to close the door.

I breathed in the fresh air while shaking out my legs. As my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight peaking through a few palm trees, my gaze turned to Blake's house. It was a normal, three story house. Of course, it was big, but not those mansions that I saw in the magazines or reality shows. The house was pure white, with plants just about everywhere. Since it was on a small hill, it looked like it came from a story book that my dad used to read to me when I was little. A small smile spread across my face. So this is what Blake was talking about.

"Here ye are, ma'am," The driver of the limo wheeled my suitcases to my side. He scratched his grey beard for a second before walking back to the sleek limo.

"Thanks!" I called, grasping the handles of the suitcases. With a small tip of his head in my direction, he began emptying the trunk of the excessive amounts of luggage.

I stared at my surroundings, taking in my new home. I was dreading a huge, snobby mansion with a perfect pool, maids, and all of the other stuff that annoyed me. Mainly because so many people lived like kings for a petty thing such as singing while others were dirt poor.

The atmosphere of the entire place was relaxed. There were two white columns surrounding the massive front door. The house was the only one on the small hill, with neighboring houses a good distance away, indicating privacy.

"So? What'd ya think?" Blake's voice came from the right of me. Turning to look at him, I saw that he was staring at the house with a slight smile etched onto his lips. It wasn't sarcastic; it was a real, genuine smile. He had a tan backpack slung on his shoulder across his sweatshirt.

"You know, it's almost unexpected," I replied truthfully, sweeping my short braid on my shoulder as I let go of a suitcase.

Blake turned to me, his expression puzzled. "Why?" He asked me, starting to trudge across the manicured grass to the house. I kept in pace with his black sneakers, pulling my suitcases along with me.