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I wasn’t opposed to the idea of finding a man and settling down, but I also wasn't chasing it like her—Madison, the romantic. I don’t even know if I knew how to love someone to that extent.
I'm absolutely terrified to trust anyone with love. Heartbreak is painful, and I don’t want to go through something like that again. When I lost my parents, I became a shell of who I once was. I think that’s why I threw up walls; to prevent anyone from getting close enough to feel love. Madison often called me cold and heartless, but that was the reality of who I had become since that accident.
“Clearly. Miss Independent.” She rolled her eyes at me and pressed the elevator panel's button for the first floor.
“Plus, I don’t need you meddling in my love life. Remember why I moved out in the first place? Or do you need a reminder?” I raised a brow at her. She hung her head, blowing out a breath and pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger. “To be fair, Alexander worked in finance and was absolutely gorgeous. You two would have made the cutest couple—”
“I swear to god if you start singing that song again…” I cut her off before she could finish what she was saying.
She had been singing that stupid song for what felt like months after I brought him home and introduced them to each other. He wasn’t six-five, more six-one, but he did have blue eyes and a trust fund. I saw him a few more times after that, but in the end, I found him to be too boring and had to end whatever attempt of a relationship that was.
I needed a man who excited me; someone who could match who I was.
I wanted a man to chase me; to desire me.
“Fine, how about this: the next time we go out, and you meet someone who remotely interests you enough to consider dating, you will give him your number and go on at least one real date. Deal?” She pleaded. We have now moved to the bargaining stage.
Crossing my arms, I glared at her, a pleading in her eyes as we reached the lobby level of my apartment building and the doors opened. We stepped out of the elevator and exited the building. I could continue to fight her on this or give in for once. Her harping on the whole idea was becoming annoying. If I did what she asked and it ended in complete disaster, she might give up and drop it altogether.
“Fine.” I sighed, letting her win this one time. What’s the worst that could happen?
CHAPTER 2
Atlas
With heavy panting and sweat dripping from my brow, I pressed my back against the shaded brick building, then bent forward with my palms on my knees, attempting to catch my breath.
Since I moved to Minneapolis three weeks ago, the length of my morning run has increased. It took me a while to find the right route that was both scenic and close to my apartment, but now that I had one that I enjoyed, I ran it every morning.
As my pulse started to slow and breathing became more manageable, I stood up, pressing my back against the bricks, cooling my body down, and then wiping the sweat from my brow away with the bottom of my shirt. I took a few minutes to cool off and watch the morning rush of people along the street and sidewalks.
It was a beautiful morning. The sky was clear of clouds, and the sun was already starting to dry the ground from last night's rain. There was a park directly across from where I was standing, and kids were playing on the playground before they had to make their way to school.
Pulling my phone from my pocket and checking the time, I groaned a curse. Today was my first day in the new office that I had recently been transferred to, and already I was going to be late.
They gave me three weeks off to get myself situated here, and I took advantage of the time to decompress and settle in. I’ve worked for the CIA for five years, and not once have I taken any vacation time. I love my job and the work I do, so it's hard even to consider taking time off.
Adjusting my earbuds, I turned my music up a little louder to compensate for the noise of the surrounding traffic. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and pushed off the wall, switching from a light jog to a full sprint as I made my way around the last corner before reaching my apartment complex.
The CIA had made arrangements ahead of time for an apartment for me here, which was the one thing I was dreading to search for with my initial move. They rented me a really nice luxury apartment in Uptown. It was newly built and fully furnished, another thing I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with.
My new home was within walking distance of many restaurants and bars, which was a huge convenience. I liked not having to drive everywhere all of the time. After attempting to get around using only local transportation, I got sick of it and eventually broke down and bought myself a black Jeep Grand Cherokee SUV.
I decided to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. I lived on the second floor, so there weren’t many steps to go up, and I didn’t want to waste any more time. I knew I would be late already, but I didn’t want to make it even worse. Every minute counted at this point.
My shower was quick and cold, and once I was done drying myself off, I dressed in my usual outfit of dark denim jeans and a white t-shirt. I stuffed my wallet and keys into my jeans and shrugged on a black leather jacket.
As I was on my way out the door, I stopped briefly in the entryway to push my damp hair back with my hands and pick up my badge from the bowl on the table underneath it.
Hopefully, today won’t be as much of a disaster as I'm anticipating it to be.
I arrived at the office—very late, of course—and knowing it would take me even longer to wait for the elevator, I went for the stairs, striding up them two at a time until I reached the fifth floor. That was my second mistake this morning—thinking I would have the energy to climb five flights of stairs after my morning run. I was exhausted by the time I reached the top.
I navigated my way to the gossiping receptionists, who paid me little attention as I stood before their desks. They were stuck in a world of their own, talking about someone who got caught fucking in the stairwell and what they were going to order for lunch. I cleared my throat, and they both snapped their attention to me. One of the women dragged her eyes up and down my body before meeting mine with an amused grin.
“Yes, can I help you?” she asked, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. I wasn’t interested in flirting with her; based on her attitude alone, she wasn’t my type. More importantly, I needed to get to the briefing room for my meeting.
“I’m the new transfer from DC. Can you point me to the briefing room?” I asked.
