We go inside and up to the third floor. The building is very industrial looking with lots of metal beams and gray walls. It's kind of depressing.
"It's this one," he says, stopping in front of the door. He unlocks it and goes inside, holding open the door. "You don't have to come inside but if you want to check it out, this is it. It's a studio loft so just one open room."
I peek inside. His apartment is much brighter and cheerier than the dreary hallway. There's a black leather sofa across from a big TV and on the walls are several brightly colored paintings.
"Do you collect art?" I ask.
He laughs. "I guess you could say that."
"Meaning what?"
"Greg did those. He likes to paint. He has so many paintings he'll give them to anyone who'll take them. I needed something for the walls so he loaded up the moving van with them."
"They're really good. I like the colors."
"You want one? Because believe me, I can get more. Greg lives at his mom's house and she keeps telling him to get rid of them. They're filling up her basement."
"I don't really have a place for art," I say with a smile.
"Set it against the building. It'll brighten up the place."
"I don't think so, but thanks anyway."
"Raine, take one. I'm serious."
"Why? Just so you can get rid of one?"
"No, not at all. I just think you might like it. You could look at it and maybe it'd make you feel better."
"How would it make me feel better?"
He points to the wall across from us where two paintings are hung. "The bright colors cheer you up, especially on a gloomy day. And if you stare at the abstract lines long enough, they start to form a picture in your head. Every time you look at it you see something you didn't see before." He turns back to me. "It's like a game." He grins. "It can be very entertaining."
"You don't get out much, do you?" I kid.
He shrugs. "I'm from a small town. Not much to do there. So what do you think? You want a painting? Greg would be thrilled to know someone else has one. He'd feel like an actual artist."
"Not if he knew his painting was sitting in an alley."
"If someone was looking at it and appreciating it, he'd be happy. I guarantee it." He motions me inside. "Come look at the others. I have them all over the walls. You can have whatever one you want."
I shake my head. "That's okay. I'll just wait here."
"Raine, I promise you nothing's going to happen."
"I don't believe in promises," I mutter.
"What was that?" he asks. "I didn't hear you."
"Nothing." I look at him, specifically his eyes. I've heard eyes tell you more about a person than anything else. Rob had dark smoldering eyes that drew me in the first time I saw him. But I could feel something in those eyes that didn't seem right. At the time I told myself it was attraction giving me that nervous flutter I felt when he looked at me. Then later, I convinced myself it was love. Now I know those feelings were my gut telling me not to trust him. Telling me to run from him.
I don't feel any of that when I look at Miles' eyes. Like Rob, Miles has eyes that capture my attention and make me not want to look away. They stir something in me, but it's not the feeling I had with Rob. It's different. I can't really explain it. I'm still trying to figure it out.
"You want to come inside?" Miles asks.
"I guess I could." I step into the apartment but remain by the door.
"Feel free to look around," he says. "I'll go get your backpack."
The ceilings are high, and when I look up I see stairs leading to another room. His bedroom. It's lofted above the main level and open so you can see it from the door.
"What do you think?" he says from the kitchen.
"Is that your bedroom?" I ask, looking up at it.
"Yeah. Why?"
"It's not very private."
"I'm going to get some curtains eventually. For now, I don't mind it being open. I don't have any visitors." He smiles. "Except for you. You're my first one."
He walks over to me holding a navy blue backpack that looks much newer and cleaner than my old one.
I point to it. "What's that?"
"Your backpack."
"That's not mine."
"I know." He holds it up. "I got you a new one."
I sigh. "Miles, I told you not to do that."
"And I told you I was going to. It was on sale. I promise."
"You don't listen," I say, annoyed.
"That IS a flaw of mine," he says, trying to be serious but his lips are turning up.
"What are your other flaws?" I turn and lean against the door, my hand on my hip.
"Hmm." He pauses to think. "Might need some time to think about that."
"Seriously?" I shake my head. "Okay, I'll give you one. You lack humility."
"Not true. Try again."
"If you can't think of a single flaw, you lack humility."
"I gave you a flaw. I don't listen when people tell me to do something that needs to be done. And just to be clear, in other situations, I'm a very good listener."
"What other situations?"
"If you need to talk or just vent after a bad day, I'm your guy." He holds the backpack out to me. "Just try it out. If you don't like it, I'll put it outside and put a free sign on it."
"Don't do that," I say, snatching it from him. "Someone will take it."
"Which is what I want. I don't want to keep it."
"If you leave it outside, someone like Levi will take it," I say, inspecting the bag. It's a really nice backpack. Way better than my old one.
"Who's Levi?"
"The homeless guy who hangs out across from the bank and sings for money."
"I think I've seen that guy. I've seen him singing while walking around too."
"He only does that if he isn't making enough money on his corner that day. He makes more money than some people make at an actual job. And he takes stuff, too. Whatever he finds. And then he sells it. He doesn't even use it, which is why you shouldn't put this backpack on the street."
"Maybe someone else will take it. Someone who actually needs it."
"I need it. I just...I can't take it."
"Okay." He takes it from me. "I'll go get your old one." He walks away.
Damn him! He's doing it again. Tricking me into taking something I shouldn't take. He's clever. I'll give him that. And he seems to already have me figured out. That's concerning because I haven't figured myself out.
11
Raine
"Wait!" I rush up to Miles. "Let me see it again."
"Why?"
"Just give it to me."
He hands it over and I swing it around my back and try it on.
"It fits pretty good and the straps don't dig into my shoulders."