Los Angeles was big and scary compared to home, but Mike ushered me through the city like it was an everyday thing for him. I supposed it was, really—he’d been here for five years.

I felt like a total country bumpkin compared to him.

It was fun letting him show me around though as he drove. Pointing out different buildings, promising to take me out to eat in different restaurants. There were palm trees everywhere—I’d thought that was just a movie and TV thing, but apparently not.

“We can’t eat out every day,” I told him.

“Maybe not, but we’ll have to try a few of them anyway. And I’ll check tomorrow and see if you can come watch the filming sometime when I’m not on set all day.”

“That would be fun.” I wanted to see what Mike did when he was working—from what he’d told me, it wasn’t at all like I’d imagined it would be either. And I didn’t want to be stuck all by myself in the apartment. Not that I was afraid to go out exploring a little on my own, but it was more fun with company and the reason I was here was to spend time with Mike. There wasn’t much point in completely trashing my reputation if I wasn’t spending time with him, enough time to figure out if I could live with him for the rest of my life.

We pulled into a parking garage underneath a medium-sized brick faced apartment building. “This is it,” Mike said. “Home.” He parked, then just sat there for a moment staring at the concrete wall in front of us.

“Mike?” I asked, confused.

He shook his head. “Just a little nervous of you seeing the apartment.”

I snorted. “It won’t be the first time I’ve seen your dirty socks and underwear scattered everywhere.”

He laughed and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “No, I cleaned before I went back home. But it’s not very big, is all.” He made a face. “You’ll see.”

What did I care how big it was? It was his. Ours, sort of, for the next couple of weeks.

We got out of the car and gathered up our bags, then Mike took me up in the elevator to the fourth floor and led me to his apartment. “Okay, try not to be disappointed.” He opened the door and stood back to let me be the first to enter.

“Oh,” I breathed as I walked in. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Messy Mike of high school days was gone—this place was as neat as a pin. The apartment itself was on the front corner of the building and bright light filled the room. The front wall was the same brick as the outside had been, rough and industrial looking, with a couple of white framed windows letting in the sun. A big TV hung on the wall between them with a tall set of shelves underneath it filled with movies and games and Mike’s precious Playstation. The rest of the walls were painted a stark white that reflected the light from the windows into every corner.

The tiniest kitchen ever filled the back wall and then there was Mike’s couch and some shelves, basically taking up the rest of the space. A half-open door led to what looked like his bedroom.

I only let myself be distracted by the hinted mystery of his bedroom for a second though before I began to explore the living room. He didn't have much up on the walls, a few pictures from home, a movie poster, random things on the shelves I’d noticed before. The couch wasn't brand new but looked like it was in good shape. The kitchen, when I got a closer look at it, was adorable. It was small, true, but there was a long narrow counter-slash-island type thing that kind of defined where the kitchen ended and the living room started that was also full of cupboards and drawers. Even more delightful, all the shelves rolled out so you could get to the back of them easily.

It was after I'd discovered the rack for his pots and pans that I looked up and caught Mike grinning at me. "What?" I demanded.

"You're funny." He strolled forward and I stood up just in time to be kissed. "Want to go out for dinner and grab some groceries? There isn't much in the fridge, I gave it all to the neighbors so it wouldn't go bad."

"Sure." And when I opened the refrigerator to start making a list in my head, I discovered he was right. Some butter, a couple of shriveled apples and an orange that had definitely seen better days. And bottle after bottle of sauces and condiments. "I hope you gave a lot away. This doesn't look like much to live on."

He stepped up behind and slid his hands around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. "It's usually a lot more full than that, but I eat a lot on set too when I'm working."

I knew I shouldn't keep standing there with the fridge door open wasting energy, but it was so nice to just be like this. Comfortable. Intimate. I'd missed that casual way I could touch him, and how he'd felt the same about touching me.

Eventually he reached out and pushed the door closed. "Let's go out. There's a great place not far from here, we can walk and I can show you the neighborhood." He kissed me beneath my ear and then hugged me harder when I gasped. "Groceries, too, then maybe come home and spend the evening together?"

I nodded mutely, Mike having stolen my voice along with my brains and any sense of self-preservation I might have once had. But I'd known this would happen if I came out here, hadn't I? It had never been a question of if, just when.

And truthfully, I was kind of looking forward to just letting go and living in the moment. Doing what felt good and letting the future take care of itself. Regardless of what came after, I wanted to live while I was here.

“Let’s go then,” he said in a low voice and patted my hip before disappearing to dig in a cupboard built into the wall by the entrance. “There’s a good Greek place right by the grocery store, or we can go up a block and have Philippine food. Your choice.”

I closed the fridge and followed him. “Greek sounds good.” And it was closer to the store. The sooner we got our groceries, the sooner we could come back here and start figuring out our future.