The Mysterious Mr. Miller

15. SHARING IS CARING

We had been in the car for six hours continuously. My back had started to get stiff but I struggled to find a comfortable position. The only comfortable position I imagined was putting my feet in Mr. Miller's lap but I understood that's not an option.

Talking about Mr. Miller, he had not once shown any sign of discomfort and was sitting still like it has just been few minutes. His eyes were fixated on his mobile and his jaw was clenched. I noticed the small scar on his nose. Knowing his profession, several scenarios came to my mind about how he got that cut.

Not wanting to get caught, I looked away and started staring out of the window. The sun had started to set, painting the sky deep purple.

"When are we going to stop?" I asked.

"Stop for what? Food? Have you already digested the burger we bought from the cart?" He said.

I rolled my eyes. "First, you don't need to count calories for me. Second, I was asking for sleep. Are we going to drive the whole night?"

"I don't see any problem in that." He said.

"I do. I'm tired and my back hurts." I groaned, massaging my back.

"The sooner we reach Florida, the better." He said.

"The world will not end if we reach there a day late. Besides, we have yet to travel a lot. Do you want me getting sick? I better warn you, a sick woman isn't easy to handle." I threatened him emotionally.

He took a deep breath, looking clearly annoyed at me. "Fine. Thomas. If you see a hotel nearby, take a stop there. Miss. Woods wants to lie down."

"Yes, boss." Thomas said.

Thomas drove for another half an hour after which he stopped in front of a small hotel in the woods. Sean stepped out and then motioned me to follow him.

The place looked a little creepy from the outside but I was happy as long as my back could feel a soft mattress.

As we walked inside, the receptionist appeared from the cabin to guide us. "Yes sir, how may I help you?" He asked.

"One double room." He said and my head whipped in his direction.

"What do you mean one room? I am not sharing a bed with you." I whispered.

"You can sleep on the floor." He said and ignored me while he dealt with the receptionist and took the keys.

"I am a girl. I need some privacy." I said as I followed him to the elevator.

"The last time I gave you privacy, you ended up getting a woman killed." He said.

His response shut me up and I silently followed him to the room. It was an average sized room, with a bed in the middle, a seating space, some cabinets and an LED to keep us entertained.

I didn’t have many concerns about the room though. I was more worried about the fact that I was going to be sharing a room with Mr. Miller. I might be living in his house for quite some time but we have never been alone with each other for longer than a few minutes. Besides, he was bipolar so we never know when the switch flips and he ends up smothering me.

I stood there awkwardly, watching as he took off his coat and then got comfortable on the bed. The top button of his shirt was popped open, giving a hint of his bronze skin. I got flustered at the aspect of us being together and alone but at least I knew he wasn’t interested in me in that way. Besides, why would he think about me when he had a girlfriend with a supermodel physique?

I sat down on the sofa and began staring here and there. I was dead tired and wanted to just go to sleep but how was I going to do that with Mr. Mafia over there. Do I just go and lie down with him? Or do I sleep on the hard floor? Of course not.