Wait For You - 'Look After You' Sequel - A Michael Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter 18

"Didn't look that close."

"You always look close."

I didn't answer. Because she was right. I did look that close. I imagined her in every single set I grabbed. Especially the red one.

She disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water starting almost instantly.

When she came out, her hair was damp, tank clinging to her shoulders, shorts riding low on her hips.

She bent to grab the towel she'd tossed on the chair earlier, and that's when I saw it,

A thin flash of red lace, just above the curve of her shorts.

My eyes didn't move.

She straightened like nothing happened, but I saw the flicker, that slight pause.

She knew what I saw.

I leaned back in the chair, voice casual. "Nice to see you still have a flair for theatrics."

She turned halfway, towel in hand, brow lifting.
"Excuse me?"

I gestured lazily toward her waist.
"The red panties. Not exactly low-profile."

Her jaw twitched. "It was on top."

I let my gaze linger just a second longer than necessary. "Was it? Looked deliberate."

She laughed, dry. "In your dreams, Michael."

"Obviously not." I let the silence stretch, watching her grip the towel just a little tighter.

"Funny, though. You wear black slacks and steel on your face all day, but lace at night? Doesn't quite fit the branding."

That got her.

A flicker of something in her eyes,  irritation, embarrassment. And something else she didn't want to name.

She turned fully now, standing there in a tight tank top, arms folded like armor. "Do you want a thank you for packing my underwear, or should I just pretend this conversation isn't happening?"

I smiled, real slow. "No need to thank me. You picked the showstopper. That says plenty."

"It doesn't say anything."

"Doesn't have to. I saw it."
My voice dropped, lower now. Not sharp. Just quiet enough to land harder.
"You forget, Evelyn... I used to know exactly what you looked like with nothing on."

Her mouth parted like she wanted to snap back, but nothing came out.

She turned away quick, like I hadn't seen the heat creep into her neck. "Go to hell, Michael."

"Already been. You were there too, remember?"

She cursed under her breath and crossed to the door, the same calculated stride, but now her fists were tight, her back too straight.

Before she disappeared into the other room, I called out.

"Hey, Evelyn."

She stopped but didn't turn.

"Next time you wear something for me, just admit it."

"I didn't wear for you."

"You did."

She slammed the adjoining door behind her,
but the echo didn't shake me.

Because I knew the truth:
She was still in control of the world.
Just not when I was in the room.

————

The city was still half-asleep, but my mind hadn't stopped moving.

The adjoining door cracked open. She was already dressed: black slacks, a silk blouse, hair pulled back tight. Not a single thing out of place. Controlled. Composed. Dangerous.