Chapter 3 Don't Disrupt The Setup

◆ He was exaggerating. Her parents didn't hate him—they were devout Catholics. Like his mom's family. The Nielsens were the regular churchgoer type. Same with their daughter, he couldn't imagine Kel's parents hating someone. But Miles knew they didn't really approve of his living situation with Mykaela here in Italy. His parents didn't encourage it, either. Still, he didn't really give a shit. He liked having Kel around. She kept him grounded and levelheaded. The past year, she'd been a lot of help to him. She took care of household chores, she fed him good food, she curbed his propensity for alcohol and drug abuse, and she was his unpaid personal nurse that time he was going through withdrawal. With her help and moral support, he quit doing drugs and didn't even need to go back to rehab. Because of her, he wasn't contemplating reverting to his self-destructive ways as often as before. She kept him alive and well, basically. "How's your hand?" Miles asked while polishing the finishing touches on the life-size painting he'd been trying to complete for months now. Like the last time he tried painting a big one featuring a female subject, he asked Mykaela to model for him an hour after he patched up her injury. "Fine." Kel glanced up to smile at him, her short dark hair and thick lashes emphasizing the paleness of her smooth complexion as she lay still on an old couch in the middle of his art studio. Her slim arm hid half of her naked chest, while a long lacy dress covered most of her skin-tone underwear and beautiful legs. "Almost done?" "99 percent," he replied, giving the painting one last color check. The shading looked decent, the gradients quite realistic. To him at least. A gratifying sense of accomplishment took over his thoughts as he stared at the completed artwork. One more thing to sell and impress his small client base with soon. Considering he wasn't the type to always finish something he started, he felt pretty good about himself right now. "Can I see?" Kel grinned wider. "Yeah. Your job tonight's done," he muttered with a smirk. "Cool beans..." She gasped upon seeing the finished product, with her arm wrapped around his back as they stood in front of the life-size artwork. "So beautiful." "Is it?" Miles watched her smile narrow her pale green eyes and felt even better about his latest work. Maybe he should ask her out to dinner this weekend to thank her for helping him out again, once her busy "full-time model" schedule calmed down. "Yeah. Very!" With a giggle, Kel walked away to get dressed behind the canvas. "She looks like me, too. Oh! I bought you new brushes by the way." "Why?" Did he mention that he needed new paintbrushes? When? "Nothing. I just thought of you, when I passed by that new arts and crafts store after the shoot." She beamed at him again before giving him a hug from behind. "Thanks," he murmured, waiting for her to say she missed him after he'd been hiding here in the basement for three days straight. Deadlines and all. "How much did it cost?" "Shh! I'm busy." As she kept staring at the woman on the painting, her pale arms tightened around his waist. He wasn't a hugger, and emotional intimacy made him cringe more often than not. But with her, it felt kind of natural and effortless. Whenever she hugged him, it gave him a different kind of comfort he wasn't quite used to. Then her soft palms pressed onto his fly, reminding him that he wasn't wearing briefs underneath his pants. He knew she didn't mean to, but she didn't stop embracing him as they stood in front of the canvas, just enjoying the silence and privacy. Her jasmine-smelling shampoo and her roses-inspired fragrance also distracted him. Shit. He hadn't rubbed one out in weeks, and his junk actually hurt now. But he'd rather not say her hug was already giving him a boner. He wasn't on antidepressants anymore—ergo, it's just his libido acting up again. He wouldn't deny that he'd been crushing on her, though. Just because she was such a good influence. Over the past couple of months, she helped him deal with his issues. Mykaela helped him work on his self-image, mental health, and improved his outlook on life in general. Sometimes he thought of her as his tamer, more intelligent, more levelheaded alter ego. They just had a lot in common despite growing up with different backgrounds. His Italian parents had money, while her humble working-class family were mostly immigrants who sought their version of "the American dream". She grew up with an older sister in a happy household with a normal childhood, while his was the opposite. Only child. Often sad. Lonely. Living with psychologically scarring memories that haunted him to this day. A few times, he imagined her in bed with him so he could show her how much he enjoyed her company. Sometimes he would lust over her, imagining kissing her and fucking her senseless whenever he watched some smut. But he never acted on it. It would only ruin their friendship—their comfortable bond and their ideal living situation, most especially. So he held back. Just common sense, really. Sometimes he would daydream and ponder asking her to try being in a serious relationship with him. But then he'd sober up and immediately remember how fucked up his family was, and he'd instantly dismiss the thought of having any future with her. Once the booze wore off, it slapped him with the harsh reality that he was far from the ideal guy she wanted or needed in her life. So for now, he would keep his dick in his pants and carry on with his routine. He'd rather be alone and stay her friend than risk losing her just because of some asinine biological urges. Besides, she wasn't the kind of girl who would be up for a friends-with-benefits type of thing. Far from it. ◆