Page 36 of Isolation

Alexa nods. “You must still be so freaked out from the fall."

"Rave, you have to be more careful girl," Jaci chimes in. "You could have died.”

I shake my head at them. “You guys are being so dramatic. I am perfectly fine.”

We are still in mid-conversation when I see Milo coming towards us. He looks freshly showered, in blue jeans and a white shirt today. It's another one of his casual but expensive ensembles.

I watch Alexa checking Milo out from the corner of her eye. I don’t blame the girl. That seems to be a normal reaction where Milo is concerned.

His physical attributes have always been hard to deny. At twenty-five, he looks more of a walking sex god than he did at twenty-one. People still turn to stare at him whenever he walks into a room. His tall, sculpted body has a commanding presence, especially with girls.

“Good morning,” Alexa is the first to greet Milo.

He gives her a curt nod.

“Morning, Rave,” Milo gives me a peck on the cheek, like the ones we used to share back in the day. His body language is also friendly, which is promising.

Since our heavy conversation at Milo’s condo yesterday, things have been… civil. We caught up on each other’s lives.

Milo has not acted on his impulses or his out of control libido. He has been diligent about not touching me. Those efforts have sparked tranquility between us.

“Morning,” I respond back as Milo turns to acknowledge his business partners.

“So, Rave,” Jaci drawls, turning the attention back to me. “What’s on your agenda now that you are back in New York?”

“Nothing much. I have been doing an internship for a family friend, Karen.”

“Karen?” Brandon frowns. “I didn't know that. Isn’t Karen like a bloodhound? I heard she doesn’t pay interns.”

Milo gives me a pointed look at that comment. I sigh. It’s a moot point.

“I know,” I surrender with one hand up. “But I just wanted the experience.”

“Why?” Alexa tilts her face. “You are fucking brilliant. You were what, sixteen or seventeen when your first dress was featured in a Paris fashion runway?”

“I was seventeen,” I admit. “But that only happened because the lead designer birthed me,” I point at my mother, whose silhouette is barely visible from where we are standing. It looks like she is browsing through the magazine collection.

“That’s not why,” Milo chimes in. “Theressa would not have featured a dress on her first show unless she knew it was going to hit it out of the park. It was simply that good,” he shrugs.

Brandon takes me in a one handed-hug.

“God, Rave, you haven’t changed. You are brilliant, dude. Stop working for that vampire Karen before she sucks out your soul. Start your own line.”

“I might do that one day,” I smile politely at Brandon but silently beg him to let go.

I don’t have to look up to feel Milo’s raging eyes on us. His lighthearted mood is shifting.

He already admitted to being possessive like a psycho, or in his case, possessive like asocio, if that’s even a word.

We need peace in this house, and I have no interest in encouraging chaos with everything else that's going on right now.

As if on cue, Milo speaks, “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll help you bring things to the table.”

With a hand on my lower back, he nudges me to the side, so Brandon’s arm falls off my shoulders. He is so smooth during the whole transaction that no one notices the quick movement.

“You know, Brandon is right.” Alexa follows us to the kitchen. “You should start your own business. You can sell custom clothing. I have friends who shell out hundreds of dollars for custom-made outfits.”

“You should totally look into this, Rave.” I turn to find Brandon also walking into the kitchen with us. “Plus, this one,” he points his thumb at Alexa, “has bougie friends with a lot of money to spare. I am sure she can give you some intros.”