VALERIE

The ride to Brian's apartment is silent. I stare out the window, watching rain-blurred buildings pass by as we leave campus behind.

So much for my first day of freedom.

"We're not going far," Brian says, breaking the silence. "The apartment is ten minutes from campus. It’s close enough for convenience."

I don't respond. The childish part of me wants to give him the silent treatment, but that feels ridiculous given the circumstances.

"I know this isn't what you wanted," he continues, his eyes never leaving the road. "But it's necessary."

"Is it?" I finally ask. "Or is my dad just being paranoid?"

Brian's jaw tenses slightly. "I've been in security for fifteen years. I don't do paranoia."

His tone leaves no room for argument.

Great. Now I’m stuck with a humorless robot.

We pull into an underground garage beneath a sleek high-rise building. Brian parks in a reserved spot and cuts the engine.

"Home sweet home," he says without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

The elevator requires a key card and fingerprint scan. As the doors close, I'm suddenly aware of how small the space is. Brian stands close enough that I can smell his cologne. It’s something subtle and expensive, with notes of cedar. His presence fills the elevator, and I find myself pressing back against the wall.

"The building has 24-hour security," he explains. "There are cameras in all common areas, restricted access, the works."

"Sounds like prison. Lovely."

He actually smirks at that. It transforms his face, making him look younger, and almost human.

"It's the penthouse," he says as the elevator rises. "You'll have plenty of space."

The doors open directly into his apartment, and despite myself, I'm impressed. There are floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a stunning view of the city. Rain streams down the glass, creating a watercolor effect of lights and shadows. The space is open concept, with the kitchen flowing into the living area, and it’s all been done up in sleek, modern furniture. The place is surprisingly tasteful for someone I'd pegged as bland in a military sort of way.

As I step out of the elevator, Brian's hand brushes against my lower back as he guides me into the apartment. The casual touch sends an unexpected jolt through me. I step away quickly, pretending to be interested in the view.

"Nice place," I admit grudgingly.

"Your father's company owns the building,” Brian says as he sets my bags down. "He keeps this unit for visiting executives."

Of course. Nothing in my life exists outside my father's influence.

"Let me show you around," Brian says, moving past me.

I follow him through the main living area, noticing how everything seems both luxurious and minimalist. The kitchen is all dark cabinets and stainless steel, and it’s probably rarely ever used.

"The kitchen is fully stocked," Brian explains. "I'm not much of a cook, but we can order whatever you want."

"I can cook," I say, surprising myself with the offer. "I mean, basic stuff only. Nothing fancy."

He nods, and something like approval crosses his face. "That would be... nice."

We continue the tour, passing a home office and a small gym before we stop at a hallway with three doors.

"This is your room." Brian opens the first door, revealing a spacious bedroom decorated in neutral tones. "The bathroom is through there." He points to a door on the right wall. "And my room is directly across, through the other side of the bathroom."

I step inside, taking in the queen-sized bed, the desk, and the large built-in closet. "We’ll be sharing a bathroom?"

"It has two entrances. Just remember to lock both doors when you use it."

Great, I think sarcastically. Now even my bathroom time won't be private.

"Your father had your things moved over this morning,” Brian says, gesturing to several boxes stacked neatly in the corner. "I didn't unpack anything. I figured you'd want to arrange things your own way."

It's a small consideration, but I appreciate it. At least he's not completely overbearing.

"Thanks," I reply quietly.

"I'll let you settle in." He moves toward the door. "We should discuss ground rules over dinner."

"Ground rules?" I question with a raised eyebrow. "Let me guess, I have a curfew?"

"Among other things." His expression remains neutral. "Is seven o'clock okay for dinner?"

I check my phone. That gives me about two hours to unpack and process this whole bizarre situation.

"Fine."

After he leaves, I flop onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. How is this my life now? Living with my father's security guy instead of experiencing college like a normal person?

With a sigh, I drag myself up and begin to unpack. I might as well make the space mine since I'm stuck here.

By the time I've arranged my clothes and set up my photography equipment, I'm feeling grimy from the rain and travel. A shower sounds perfect before dinner.

I grab my toiletry bag and head to the bathroom which is quite impressive. It’s fitted with marble countertops, a glass shower enclosure, and a deep soaking tub. I lock both doors before pulling off my clothes and stepping under the hot spray.

The water pressure is heaven, so I take my time as I let the heat ease the tension from my shoulders. When I finish, I wrap a towel around my body with another around my hair. Now I'm feeling almost human again.

I unlock my door and step back into my bedroom. I take a seat at the vanity and begin with my complicated time-consuming skincare routine.

I’m deep into it until I realize that I've forgotten my face moisturizer in my toiletry bag when it’s time to apply it. I get up and walk to the bathroom door, opening it without thinking.

Steam surrounds the whole place as I enter, and suddenly, I collide directly with a warm, solid chest.

Strong hands quickly grip my upper arms to steady me, and I’m taken aback as I look up into Brian's surprised face. He has just stepped out of the shower, and I can see water droplets clinging to his broad shoulders and chest. A white towel hangs dangerously low on his hips, revealing a defined V-line that disappears beneath the fabric.

I freeze, suddenly aware that I'm wearing nothing but a towel myself. My eyes involuntarily trace the path of a water droplet as it slides down his chest, over ridged abs, before it’s absorbed by the towel.

A thin scar runs across his left shoulder, with another along his ribs. From his military days, I assume. They only enhance the raw masculinity radiating from him.

As his gray eyes lock with mine, they darken slightly. For several moments, neither of us moves or speaks. The small space feels charged with something I'm not ready to name.

"I… I'm sorry," I finally stammer, moving away. "I forgot to lock… I didn't know you were…"

"My fault," he interrupts. His voice is deeper than usual. "I should have checked both locks."

I notice his gaze drop briefly to my bare shoulders before snapping back to my face. His jaw tightens almost noticeably.

“I just need my—” I gesture vaguely toward the counter where my toiletry bag sits.

Brian steps aside, giving me space, but the bathroom isn't large enough for us to avoid brushing against each other as I slip past him. The brief contact of his arm against mine sends another jolt of electricity coursing through my body.

I grab my bag and leave quickly, muttering another apology before I shut the door firmly behind me. As I lean against it, my heart keeps pounding ridiculously fast.

What was that? I've seen guys without shirts before. Hell, I've seen guys in much less. So why am I standing here with my pulse racing just because I bumped into Brian half-naked?

Maybe it's the shock. Or the awkwardness of our living situation. Or the fact that, despite his rigid personality, Brian Anderson is undeniably attractive in a raw and powerful way I've never encountered before.

I shake my head, trying to rid the image of water trailing down his chest, and outlining each muscle, out of my mind. It doesn't work. The visual seems like it’s burned into my memory.

After completing my skincare routine, I dress in jeans and a loose sweater, then I dry my auburn curls and apply minimal makeup. I do my normal routine, trying to restore some sense of normalcy to this very abnormal day.

When I finally emerge for dinner, Brian is in the kitchen, fully dressed in dark jeans and a gray shirt that stretches across his shoulders. He has ordered Chinese food, and the containers are spread across the counter.

"Hope this is okay," he says without looking at me.

"Yeah, it’s fine," I reply, equally casual, as if we didn't just see each other practically naked.

We fill our plates in silence and move to the dining table. The tension from the bathroom incident is still hanging between us, unacknowledged.

"So," Brian finally says, setting down his fork. "Ground rules."

I force myself to meet his eyes, while fighting the memory of how back in the bathroom, they looked darkened with... what? Surprise? Or something else?

"I'm listening.”

"Your safety is my priority, but I understand that you need your independence." His tone is all business now. "I won't hover, but I need to know your schedule. Where you'll be, and when you'll be back."

"Like checking in with a parent?" I challenge.

"Like coordinating with security,” he replies, holding my gaze. "I need to know if you deviate from routine. I don’t want any surprises."

I push my food around my plate. "What about parties? Social events?"

"You have to give me advance notice. I'll keep my distance, but I'll be there."

The thought of Brian lurking around at college parties almost makes me laugh. Almost.

"Dating?" I ask bluntly as I watch closely for his reaction.

An emotion flickers across his face. It’s so quick that I almost miss it.

"It’s not advisable while there's an active threat." His voice is carefully neutral. "But if you insist, I'll need to vet anyone you're interested in."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Your father is paying me not to kid about your safety."

We stare at each other across the table hotly, daringly. Finally, I sigh.

"How long do you think this will last?" I ask.

Brian's expression softens slightly. "It’s hard to say. But we're already working on leads."

I nod, suddenly exhausted by everything—the move, the threats, the bathroom encounter that I'm trying desperately not to think about.

"I should get some sleep. Classes start tomorrow,” I say.

"I'll drive you."

"I can walk," I insist. "It's only ten minutes away."

"I'll drive you," he repeats. His tone is firmer this time.

I’m too tired to argue, so I stand and carry my plate to the kitchen. As I rinse it in the sink, I feel Brian approach behind me. He reaches past me to set his own plate down, and his chest briefly presses against my back. The contact lasts only a second, but it's enough to make my breath catch in my throat.

I step away quickly, wondering if he noticed my reaction.

"Goodnight," I say, not looking back as I head toward my room.

"Valerie," he calls after me.

I pause, turning reluctantly.

"Lock both bathroom doors tonight." His eyes stare at mine with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. "We shouldn't have a repeat of what happened earlier."

Something in his tone makes me wonder if he's warning me, or himself.

"Right,” I say, managing to nod casually. "No repeats."

But as I close my bedroom door behind me, the image of water droplets trailing down his muscled chest flashes through my mind again. I have a feeling it's going to be a long, sleepless night.