Chapter 18
Addie
Iglance around the dark neighborhood, hoping no one’s peeking out their window right now. The gossiping hens would have a field day if they found out I was at my brother’s house when he’s not home.
They can spin a story better than any fiction writer I’ve ever read.
It’s hilarious when they’re talking about other people—less so when I’m the topic of conversation.
Michael opens the door before I can get too paranoid. Maybe it’s our secret relationship, but it feels as if people are always watching me. I’m being crazy. No one knows about us, but all it takes is one person with loose lips, and down our ship goes.
I’ve never been one to keep secrets from my family.
I’ve confided in Ryan more times than I can count.
For some reason, this thing with Michael is different.
It’s monumental. The second our families find out about us, everything will change.
Good or bad, it won’t be the same, and I’m not sure I’m ready for things to be different.
For the first time, I have Michael all to myself. I don’t want to let that go just yet.
In his black tee and running shorts, Michael looks stupidly gorgeous. Every muscle is showcased under the stretchy material, leaving nothing to the imagination. I could lick every divot and curve and still not get enough of him. Will he let me do that someday?
He leads me toward the back of his open concept house, where a mouthwatering scent is emanating from the kitchen.
“What are you making?” I ask as he hands me a stemless glass of red wine.
“Enchiladas.”
I raise an eyebrow. “My favorite. You’re spoiling me.” Taking a sip of my wine, I realize it’s also one of my favs.
“Figured since we’re not quite ready to go public, I needed to pull out all the stops for an at-home date night.”
I lean against the counter, the cold marble digging into my back.
Michael moves around the kitchen in a way that indicates he’s very familiar with cooking in it.
When Carson lived here, he did most of the cooking, so it shouldn’t surprise me that Michael would take over the task.
Ryan is abysmal at it, though he tries. It’s become a running joke in our family that anytime Ryan offers to help, we pull out the takeout menus.
“Can I do anything?” I ask.
“Sure. You want to shred the cheese for me?” Michael nods his head toward the block and the grater on the counter next to him.
I put on a playlist before getting to work.
The low notes of country music provide a background to the clanking of utensils.
Michael reaches out anytime he moves by me.
The gentle touches across my back or ass provide a connection between us I wasn’t sure we’d have.
He’s always kept himself isolated from everyone else. Initiating contact was rare for him, and I’d always assumed he’d keep his distance with whoever he decided to date. Knowing he’s comfortable enough to touch me whenever he feels like it is a major win in my book.
On the flip side, not being able to reach out to Michael whenever I want has proven to be harder than I expected, but he’s more than made up for it with his nearness. It’s eased my worry over building intimacy between us.
“How did you get out of game night?” he asks.
We’re elbow-deep in rolling the enchiladas, our hands covered in sauce. Despite all the utensils we’ve got at our disposal, I still manage to get it all over myself.
“I just said I had dinner plans with a coworker and I’d be back in time for the second round.”
“Smart to say coworker instead of friend since they know all of your friends.”
“I thought so too.”
Heavy silence stretches between us. He wants to ask something, but isn’t sure if he should. I wait him out, knowing he’ll ask eventually.
“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you to keep this to ourselves for a while longer?” Michael’s face is set in a blank expression, as if he’s locked down his emotions in case he doesn’t like my answer.
“You know, I was thinking about that on my way over here. By keeping this secret, I get to have you all to myself for a while. The second we tell people, our relationship will no longer be just between us. While I have no doubt our families will be incredibly supportive, they’re going to stick their noses in it because they love us. ”
Michael snorts as I continue, “After having feelings for you for so long, I think it’s necessary to build on what we’ve started without any outside interference.
I don’t want to lie to anyone, but I think it’s for the best that we figure this out on our own first, before letting anyone else have a say in it. ”
He gives me the softest look before leaning over to kiss me. It’s a gentle press of lips since our hands are still a mess. “I owe you an apology.”
My eyebrows wing up my forehead. “For what?”
“I didn’t give you nearly enough credit, Adalaide. I thought you’d never look at me the same if you knew about my darker predilections. I truly believed if you knew I wanted to tie you to my headboard and fuck you until you couldn’t walk, you’d run screaming from me.”
I shiver at his words. The images he just put in my head are distracting.
He smirks, seeing straight through me and my reaction to him.
“That right there is one of the reasons I’ll be forever grateful that you were bold enough to tell me what you wanted.
The way you respond to me is fucking incredible.
Your courage has brought us here, and I owe you a lifetime of gratitude for it. ”
“I’ll be cashing in on that lifetime, you know,” I tease.
“You better.”
The enchiladas go in the oven while Michael sets the timer. Thomas Rhett’s “Die a Happy Man” plays through the speaker on the counter, and I hold my hand out to Michael.
He looks at my hand for a long second before his eyes meet mine. Sheer reluctance lines his body, but his big palm wraps around mine. He presses my other hand into his pec before wrapping his arm around my waist. We sway to the beat of the song, and I soak up the way his body feels against mine.
Then Michael begins to sing along with the song in his deep baritone, the words quiet in my ear, telling me that as long as he has me, he’ll die happy. I swallow down the lump of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted in this moment.
I lean my head back, needing Michael’s kiss more than I need air.
He obliges with soft presses of his lips.
It quickly heats up, his tongue swiping at my bottom lip to gain access.
I open immediately, wanting to give him everything I have.
He holds my whole heart in his hands, and I think he’s finally understanding how much I trust him with it.
After what he was exposed to, I can understand how hard it would be for him to open up to anyone.
It was ingrained in him in the most horrendous ways that he couldn’t trust people at face value.
Even though he was adopted into a loving family, that kind of trauma doesn’t go away.
It’ll be something we have to navigate in our relationship for years to come.
I’m lucky he was willing to give me a shot in the first place.
His palm lands on my cheek, the rough calluses scratching my skin. He makes me feel small, yet more protected than anyone else ever could. It would be so easy for him to seem intimidating. Instead, he makes me feel loved. His actions prove how he feels more than words ever could.
Our kisses have turned filthy. His thick erection presses into my belly to tease at what’s to come. I curl my fingers into his T-shirt to keep from moving my hands, and I’m rewarded for the effort when he lifts me by the ass to wrap my legs around his waist.
God, the things this man can do to my body with very little effort.
“Michael!” A man’s voice booms through the house. “Grab whatever you’re cooking and—oh shit!”