Page 8 of Taming Drew

CHAPTERTHREE

CHLOE

Ipark and walk around, helping Drew out of the back seat. Escorting him to the bench, I glare. “Just sit, please.” The cameras point to the area next to the garage, and I hope someone is watching me treat him like a child.

He chuckles. “Sure, because you asked so nicely.”

“I’ll be back in a few.”

“No worries. I’ll be right here.” His adorable grin gives me pause.

I get back into my minivan and drive to find his parking place. Once I park, I just stare at my phone.

Seriously. The guy’s got a ton of money.How the hell can’t he just hire someone to babysit him?

I reach into the passenger floorboard and grab my purse, slipping my phone in the pocket.She owes me. Come on, I’ll feed him and put him to bed. He can’t hurt me.

True to his word, he’s still sitting on the bench, waiting like a kid for Santa. I push the button for the elevator and help the goliath stand. “Do you have food in your apartment?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I’m more of a takeout guy.”

“Of course you are.”

“I live on the fifth floor, number five, zero, one.”

The doors open, and I slip under his arm, maneuvering him into the elevator. “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

“Why Chloe, that’s a little fast.”

“You’re still a douchebag.”

He laughs. “King of the douchebags, or so I’m told.”

“And you just seem proud of that. What’s that all about?”

“I use humor to make anxious situations easier.”

I deadpan.Why would a guy like him with a perfect childhood and life do therapy?“You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah. It was part of my contract this time. Team management thinks I’m unpredictable.”

“You’ve just become a troublemaker who is looking for attention. Like that boy who stood in the hallway calling people names to make his shitty friends laugh.”

“I am sorry. Really.”

As though an apology ten years later can go back in time and make it better. Too little, too late. And what made you start getting into fights?

The doors open, and he leans me to the right. “Down this hall.” He fumbles in his pocket for his key. We step to the door, and he struggles to get the key in the knob.

“Let me.” I take the key and put it into the keyhole to turn it. The door clicks, but doesn’t open. I grimace, as I look at Drew.

“Oh.” He raises his head to the keypad to the side of the door and types in five numbers. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of security. I’m waiting for some security guy to jump out and tackle me for being too close.”

“See, you’re funny.”

I take a breath and push open the door. “Do you need to pee? I can’t have you falling with your unsteady feet.”

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