CHAPTER TWO

I stood there, dumbfounded, torn between quietly shutting the door and backing away or saying something to explain my intrusion. But I didn’t have to decide; he broke the silence first. 

“Who the hell are you?” He scowled, still lying on the ground, staring up at me.

“I…um, I came to…” My gaze darted around, searching for an excuse, until I spotted a mop in the far corner of the room. “Clean! Yeah, I'm the janitor, and I came to clean.”

He sat up, narrowing his eyes. “Are you new or something? Didn’t Marcus tell you no one enters this room without my permission?’

No and No. But I smiled, and walked into the room, heading toward the mop. “Actually, I just started today and didn’t know you’d be here, Mr Windsor. Sorry.”

I grabbed the mop and began wiping the floor in front of me.

“Get out.”

“Sorry?” I blinked, taken aback.

“Are you deaf? Get out.” He barked, brushing off his sweatpants as he stood up. “If you’re rude enough to barge in without knocking, and then dumb enough to start cleaning with a dry mop, you don’t deserve a job.”

I looked down at the mop, heat rising in my cheeks. “ I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

Tears pricked my eyes. What was wrong with me? Why had I lied? I wasn’t even a janitor, yet, I felt humiliated that he wasn’t pleased with me. I needed to get out of here before I made an even bigger fool of myself. But I’d always been this way, nervous around people, especially around—of all people—-him.

Everyone knew who he was. Reid Windsor, son of Mr. Klaus Windsor, founder of Windsor Industries. He was every girl’s dream guy—-the sort you crush on after you’re Eighteen and realize the kind of guy you want is someone who can take care of you, showering you with the kind of affection that makes everyone jealous of your relationship. And here I was, finally face to face with him, without security or the media in the way, and making a complete fool of myself. 

I just wished the ground would open up and swallow me.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I jumped, surprised at the sudden short distance between us. When had he moved so close?

“Yeah. I’m fine.” I blinked several times, trying to hold back the tears. And then, to my surprise, he burst out laughing.

My cheeks burned. Was he laughing with me, or at me? I hadn’t said or done anything funny.

“You know I was just joking, right?”

“Not really.” I frowned, confused.

“I was messing around. Acting rude and all. Here,” he held out a hand with a detergent pack in it.

“How..?”

“I usually keep it in the drawer over there.” He pointed to a corner of the room. “I didn’t think Marcus would send me a cleaner after I told him not to. Guess he’s more stubborn than I realized.” He chuckled.

I stared, mop still in hand, half-convinced I was dreaming. Reid Windsor was…nice?

“What?” he asked, shifting a little awkwardly.

I mentally cart-wheeled. I was making him uncomfortable. Reid Windsor was uncomfortable because of me. I could barely contain my excitement.

“Nothing.” I didn’t want him  to think I was some crazed fan— though I sort of was. This seemed to be his safe space, and I didn’t want him to regret letting me be here. “I just didn’t expect you to be this…nice.” 

He tilted his head, Looking genuinely Intrigued. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re kinda like a celebrity and usually people would say not to meet your idol, because like, ninety-nine percent of the time they're rude.”

“Wow. Ninety-nine percent? I guess that doesn’t leave room for any of us to avoid being stereotyped.”

I laughed, nodding. “Now that I've seen for myself, I'd say you're one of the good ones.”

“Thanks. But, you know, sometimes, we put on a cold front to command respect. Makes it so fewer people try to mess with us.” He walked over to a nearby sink I hadn't noticed, filled a bucket with water, and added detergent. “And sometimes,” he continued, taking the mop from me and dunking it in the soapy water, “you just happen to catch us on a bad day.” He paused to shoot me a smile.

I melted. I didn't know what to say. Maybe if he'd kept being rude, I would've eventually found my voice to tell him to piss off or something, but this… I had to think carefully before I spoke. I didn't want to embarrass myself any more than I already had.

“Right.” 

That's it. That was all I could think of that wouldn't sound stupid or give me away as a crazy fan. Good thing he was more of a talker. 

“Yeah.” He dunked the mop in the water a few times, like he was mulling over his next words. “So…are you going to tell the truth, or should I keep playing along with your story?” He pushed the bucket with his foot, moving along with it as he continued mopping again.

I laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, I know you're not a janitor. The hesitant reply, the way you blushed when I pointed out you were cleaning with a dry mop, and then the fact that you knew who I was.” He stopped, leaning on the mop as he turned to face me. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a stalker. But I'll give you a chance—why don't we start over?” He looked at me expectantly.

For a moment, I could see who he probably was when it came down to business: cold and unyielding. Just thinking about that side of him made me shudder.

“Right. Sorry. I only barged in because I heard a noise. I'm actually a student at this academy.”

He let out a sigh of relief and laughed. “Oh. I was already calculating how long it'd take someone to get here if I raised an alarm.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You can't be serious.”

“I am. I pretty much suck at fighting. Even Marcus has given up all hope on me, so instead of using this place to train like it was meant for, I just come here to work out a little. Keep fit, look good, keep the girls interested.” He flashed a grin.

Okay, whoever came up with ‘never meet your Idols’ was totally wrong. Right now, I’d do anything to make sure I could meet this man again—even if it meant saying the stupid thing I was about to say.

“I could help you train, if you want.” 

His eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I've got a brown belt, just the black left for me to call myself an expert.” Lies!

His brows shot up, respect filling his eyes. “So you're almost up to par with Marcus?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I shrugged. “I mean, he's even said I might be the one to take over the academy when he retires.” 

Okay, before you judge me—Marcus did say that, but only because we're close. He's like a big brother to me. I'm nowhere near his level, though; I still have three, maybe four belts to go before I can even consider it.

I smiled, folding my arms, as I watched Reid eyes widen with growing respect.

He let go of the mop and walked over to me, stopping just a few steps away. Then he bowed, hands joined in front of him.

“Sensei.”