Surprise! Another update. Hope you enjoy it.
Chapter Eighteen -Big Houses and Abundant Breakfasts
I swallowed my protest when David stopped in front of iron gates. He pressed a small remote and the gates opened. The driveway led to a huge house with an impressive modern architecture. With the design of the house, I can't even tell how many floors there were. There was no denying it was Michael's house. The color, texture and materials screamed Michael Madrid.
I contemplated on what to do. Why did he bring me to his house? Should I be here? David opened my door as Michael got out of his. Shoot. No more time to think.
Walking behind Michael, my mind was in chaos, heart thumping fast. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand and he turned to me. "Why are we here?"
"Relax, Madi. I just wanna feed you." Somehow his voice was soothing. It's so unfair. I felt like exploding of panic inside and he remained relaxed and collected.
"I need to go home."
"I know. Don't worry, I'll take you after we eat." he promised before adding. "If you still want to."
What did he mean by if I still want to? Of course I would want to go home. I let go of his hand but he was quick to grab it back. He intertwined his fingers with mine and opened the front door. The gesture made my knees wobbly and the weird fluttering in my stomach began again. It was mentally tormenting in a good way.
My eyes wandered around the entrance with a grand spiral staircase and one living room to my left and another to my right. Each was filled with ultra-modern pieces and testosterone-infused décor. Stone, wood and steel furnishings contradicted and complemented each other. The color palette was soothing to the eyes. I spot the pool outside from the floor to ceiling glass windows.
"You have a beautiful home." I admired and he rewarded me with a smile. I felt like melting. And I couldn't get over the fact that Michael was still holding my hand. It felt good and safe.
I can't remember feeling like this before. Safe, adjective, free from danger or the risk of harm. There was always a part of me who thinks the world was cruel and not everyone can be trusted. It took me some time to learn that the world wasn't as terrifying as I thought it was but I still have to be careful. I must protect myself. I shouldn't give anybody the power to hurt me. Not anymore.
We walked inside passing through the dining room with a crystal chandelier hanging above the rectangular dining table paired with white leather chairs. Adjacent to the dining room was the kitchen. It looked like one of those in the cooking shows, modern and elegant. It had a huge island and Michael let me sit on one of the stools. I felt kind of disappointed when he released my hand. Seriously, Madi? I scowled at myself for reacting that way.
My eyes followed Michael as he moved gracefully in his kitchen. He made opening the fridge and setting up a pan on the stove look fascinating. He opened two containers and transferred its contents in the pan. His back was on me and there I was again drooling behind him. What is it with me and his sexy back?
"Can I help?" I whispered as he busied himself with stirring whatever was in the pan. I should do something else than stare at Mr. Sexy Back.
"It's almost done." he replied and I realized he simply reheated something from the fridge but it smelled really good.
Two minutes later, he served two plates of green pasta in front of me. I looked away immediately when his shirt lifted when he reached for wine glasses from the cupboard. I felt hot all of a sudden, my palms sweaty and chest pounding. It must be the heat from the stove. Ha! Of course it is. What else could it be?
"Eat." he ordered after pouring red wine in the glasses.
"Yes, sir." I mocked slightly annoyed at his command. "Mmm." I moaned after my first bite. The pasta was something new to my taste buds. "What's this called? It's so good. Mmm."
"P-." he swallowed and I waited for him to finish his response. "P-Pesto." Did he just stutter?
"Are you okay? You face is red." I asked noticing how flushed he was. He ignored my question and I wondered why he was blushing. I took another forkful of pasta in my mouth and let out my delight. "Mmm. It's my first time to eat something like this. It's really really good." I praised every after a bite and he was still blushing.
"Stop!" he warned. His stare was different now, darker and more intense. Lovely browns were replaced with burning ones. "I know what you're doing, Angel and it's taking me a lot of self-control not to take you right here."
"What?" I had no idea what he meant. Self-control? Take me?
"Just finish your food. You're lucky, you're naïve."
What the hell is this man talking about? Surprisingly, I was able to finish two plates of Pesto. We were now enjoying our wine. "Is this how you impress women? Come in my big house and drink fancy wine at three in the morning?" I mocked in a deep voice.
The thought of Michael with other women made me cringe for some unknown reason. I hated the feeling that's for sure.
"Are you saying you're impressed?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Should I be?"
"You tell me. You're the first woman I brought here."
"Oh." I whispered. I think I should be making a tally of how many times he made my stomach flutter just today.
"Yeah. Oh." He gave me yet again another self-satisfied look on his face.
*****
I hated talking about myself. There's nothing really to talk about. And it's frustrating that Michael wanted nothing but to get to know me with our info trade deal. But what's more frustrating and confusing was the fact that I wanted to get to know him too. His brown eyes tell me I was right. There's so much more to him than being the rich and handsome CEO that he was.
"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Without thinking, the question came out of my mouth.
He stared at me for a while. Shoot. Why did I even ask that? He probably thinks I'm interested in him. Well, I am but not in that kind of way.
"Having a girlfriend is complicated. I already live a busy life and the last thing I need is a complication." His reply made me flinch inside. Strangely, I was disheartened with his response. I tried to conceal the frown that was about to form in my face. Why was I upset? It's not like I wanted to be his gir-. No way!
"So you're telling me you never had a girlfriend?" I asked even before I could control my mouth.
"No serious relationships, if that's what you mean." he admitted adding hesitantly, "Dating, flings, yes."
"What about the woman who came out of your office the first time I was there?" I was surprised to even remember that. He was too.
"She's just an associate." The word 'associate' didn't sound so good in my ears. I wanted to ask what he meant by that but he was quick to return my first question to him. "Why don't you have a boyfriend? Or are you dating the band guy?"
The answer was pretty obvious. I don't have the time. Like him, I'm busy with school and work. The last thing I needed was to have someone demanding time which I can't give.
Wait. Band guy? Who the hell is-? "Rico?" he nodded. "No. I told you we're just close friends."
"But he likes you."
"And I like him too." I uttered making him shift on his sit. "He's my friend." I quickly added.
"Just friends?"
"What else could we be?" He simply shrugged.
When we finished, I volunteered to clear the table. He objected and only agreed if we'd do it together. We did the dishes in silence. It was refreshing to see Michael this way, at home cooking and washing the dishes. This sight will be forever planted in my head. He clearly knew his way around the kitchen. I guessed he wasn't one of those lazy spoiled kids when he was young. The thought made me smile.
He brought our wine glasses to the living room and set it on the glass center table. We sat on the soft L-shaped sofa. My eyes flew to the clock mounted on the cream-painted walls. I almost spilled my wine when I saw the time.
He asked if I was alright. "It's already four. I should go home."
"Stay."
"Here? In your house?" He simply nodded. "I can't stay in your house!" I laughed at the absurd idea. There's no way I'm staying in his house. No. No. Not a chance.
"Why not?"
"Because..." Of a hundred reasons. "I have my own home, I don't have clothes here, I have to be in school in less than four hours and it's inappropriate."
"I have a spare room, you can borrow my clothes to sleep in. I'll have someone bring you some clothes for later and make sure you'd be in school on time. You're a guest in my house, what's inappropriate with that?"
I can't believe he's serious about this. "No. If you can't take me home, I'll just go on my own." I rest the wine glass back on the table and rose from my seat. Where's my bag? Shoot. It's in his car. "My bag's in your car."
"I can take you home but I don't want to." he confessed. I don't know if that was sweet or creepy. "I want you stay with me." Okay. That one was sweet.
"Um," Come on, Madi. Use your words. "I don't think I should."
"Please." Even his hazel browns were begging me to stay. Why does he want me to anyway?
"Why?" I needed to know what possible reason he has to beg for me to stay in his house.
He stepped toward me so that we were inches away from each other. "I want you to stay with me, Angel." That wasn't a reason but it was enough for me to say yes. God, what is wrong with me?
Michael led me to the second floor where the guest room was. He opened the door to a spacious bedroom with white paint and furniture. It was three times the size of my room at the boarding house.
Everything looked neat in white. The queen-sized bed dominated the room. The bedside tables, vanity and drawer were customized with matching design. There was a door that I guessed was the bathroom.
"This will be your room." I faced him with wide eyes at his suggestive tone. "For tonight." he immediately cleared. A painting of an angel behind him caught my attention. He followed my gaze. This time I arched an eyebrow and he shrugged like an innocent kid. I was curious if that painting had been there ever since.
Michael went out of the room to get me clothes to sleep in even if I argued I could sleep in my jeans. Not comfortable but I got used to it. I didn't have the energy to bicker with him. I was exhausted so I threw myself on the bed lying on my front. My head immediately filled with a tall man with brown eyes and a perfect smile.
*****
I was half-awake when I felt soft fingers stroking my hair. Lazily opening my eyes, I felt like I was still dreaming with a pair of hazel browns gazing at me.
"Morning, Angel." Michael whispered with those dazing eyes.
"Mmm." My lips curved into a smile as my eyes shut again. I stretched my legs and hugged my pillow tighter. It smelled like fresh flowers. Actually the entire guestroom smelled like flowers. Guestroom?! Oh my god! Where am I?
I sat in a jolt and I felt the need to pull up the blanket to me. "What are you doing?" The present situation was slowly coming into me. "What time is it?"
"I was about to wake you. It's almost six." he babbled. If I sensed it right, I think Michael was a bit nervous. Although it didn't last long. He was able to compose himself and return to being Mr. Bossy.
"Get up breakfast is ready." I opened my mouth to say that I don't eat breakfast but he raised an index finger at me. "We will eat breakfast whether you like it or not."
He looked very domesticated in V-neck shirt and gray sweat pants. I never imagined seeing Michael not in his sharp suit and tie. Even without the polished look, he was as handsome as he was every day. I bet he could wear a plastic bag and still look as gorgeous.
"I need to go home and take a bath."
"You think I don't have a bathroom here?"
"Oh you do?" I rolled my eyes at his not so clever comment. "Of course you do. You probably have ten in this house. What I'm trying to say is that I need to bathe at home and change clothes." He walked to the small closet and took out two shopping bags from it. "What are these?" I asked even if I already had a hunch.
He gestured for me to take a look myself. The first bag had a printed dress, black and white striped blazer and thin brown belt. I returned everything in the bag covering the small underwear box at the bottom. A shoe box was in the second one but I didn't bother taking it out.
"You want me to wear these?"
"We're the only people in this house, Madi. And between you and me, you're the only one who'd fit in those clothes."
"Ha ha. Very funny. You have a terrible sense of humor."
"You just told me I'm funny." I rolled my eyes at his terrible attempts to make jokes. "Come on, stop being stubborn and get ready. I'll be waiting in the kitchen. Just so you know, my sister picked those for you." With the infamous smug look on his face he left me in the bedroom.
The warm water in the shower felt amazing as it washed my body. The green apple scent of the shampoo and body wash filled my nostrils. Using a shower was heaven. It was the most relaxing bath I ever had.
I remembered Michael saying I was the first woman he brought in his home. I chose to believe that because I see no point of him lying about it. It's not like I care if he brought a dozen women in his house but I felt glad that wasn't the case.
There was no way I'm going to school in yesterday's clothes. I had no choice but to wear the clothes he gave me. It would've bothered me a lot if Michael didn't inform me that Michaela chose the clothes for me. The dress and the blazer were my exact size. Even the undergarments were a perfect fit. The thought of Michael knowing the size of my underwear made me cringe.
The dress stopped and flowed mid-thigh exposing my legs. I wrapped the skinny belt around my waist giving my body some curves I didn't even know existed. The blazer complimented the dress well.
I don't look like me. I thought as I dried my hair with the blow dryer I found in the bathroom cabinet. Where's the T-shirt and jeans kind of girl?
Striding down the staircase, my eyes admired the house even more with the natural light. Everything still oozed with masculinity but the place felt comfortable. I followed the clinking of glasses in the kitchen.
The sound of my footsteps alerted Michael whose back was on me. He was about to say something when he turned around but his jaw dropped open once he laid eyes on me.
"Madi," he purred. "You look beautiful."
My face warmed up with his words. "Thanks." My cheeks warm and flushed. "And thank you for the clothes. Don't worry I'll pay for them."
"Nobody's worried. They're yours for free. Sit down." he immediately ordered before I could even start an argument. I let it go but I will still pay for the damn clothes. How much could they be? I should ask Michaela.
Michael served me breakfast as if I was in a hotel. He had plates of bacon, eggs, wheat bread, pancakes, waffles and fried rice.
"Are you expecting visitors this morning?" I waved my hand to his kitchen island filled with food.
"I didn't know what you like." he explained.
"By now you should know that I eat anything even if I don't eat a lot."
"But not today because you will eat a lot."
"You can't make me." I folded my arms on my chest. He simply smirked at me. The prick is back.
*****
I was breathing heavily as I sat on the couch in the living room. I've never felt so bloated in my twenty-one years of existence in this world. Michael didn't stop nagging me until I finished the entire plate he fixed for me. I thought women were supposed to be the naggers. He even threatened to lock me in his house if I don't eat. How low was that?
So now my stomach felt heavy like my legs won't be able to carry me when I stand again. I'm waiting for Michael to get ready so we can leave. I've thought of taking the bus out of here but I remembered his house was located in a private subdivision. No jeepneys or buses not even taxis can enter this kind of places with the strict security. Remembering the streets we took last night dismissed the idea of walking in a second.
So I have to patiently wait for Michael as he transform from a domestic man who cooked abundant breakfast for me to Mr. CEO who insisted on buying me things. Both still bossy by the way.
The drive to MIU was long and awkward only on my part. My fingers were drumming on my lap. I fixed my eyes outside the window, not looking at Michael once. During the silence, my actions for the past eight hours played in my head like a flashback. I can't believe I slept in a man's house and not just any man. He was my boss whom I'm supposed to owe money.
Then there's the fact that he is the Michael Madrid, one of the Philippines' richest and hottest bachelors. Not my choice of words. It was how one article online described him. Yeah. Yeah. I Googled him using my phone. I admit it was fun to have an Internet-capable phone. But reading an article after article about Michael wasn't. It made me feel little compared to the successful man that he is. I wondered why he even follows me around. He was obviously not interested in me in a romantic way.
He cleared that very well last night. It was weird that I reacted that way on his girlfriend comment. I have the same opinion on romantic relationships. I see boyfriends as distractions as much as Michael thinks girlfriends are complications. At least there was something we agreed on.
Regret on staying in his house consumed me. How did I wind up sharing another ride with him? It's like even if I try to argue and say no to him I still end up doing what he says. There's something going on with me. I have to know what it was.
My best friend came to mind. Kyla was the only person I can talk to without the worry of being judged. And she knows me better than anyone. I need to talk to her considering my lack of experience in this kind of things. What kind of things exactly?
"We're here." Michael stated and I realized we were already in front of my building.
"Thank you for everything. For last night, breakfast and the ride."
"You're welcome." He smiled but it vanished as he assessed my face. Unfastening his seatbelt, he reached a hand to cup my face. "And you're pale."
I gently removed his hand from my face. My action made him furrow his brows. "It's hot." I lied. "I have to go. Thank you again."
I didn't wait for him to respond and reached for the handle swinging the door open. I rushed out, closing his door and ran inside my building without looking back.
What is wrong with me?
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