Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
AZARA
I sincerely was starting to question my aptitude to make sound decisions because why did I keep putting myself in situations like these when it came to Michael Young.
I had no idea what he had planned when he’d asked me to come over, but a home-cooked dinner date hadn’t been anywhere on that list.
The intention he’d put behind decorating the place with candles, flowers, and all the food he’d prepared, was more than anyone had ever done for me. Even the most luxurious dates I’d been on had never been this… intimate.
He also seemed almost nervous, something I’d never witnessed before. Almost like he’d been anxious to see my reaction and it was quite endearing to see this normally quite confident man unsettled.
And that I might be the reason behind it.
He wore a loose dark grey polo shirt, his strong arms revealing the intricate tattoos inked over all over his sleeves that made me want to trace every single design with my tongue. And the matching dark trousers molded his thick thighs and bum so deliciously, all I could think about was how he’d felt under my touch the last time I’d visited.
Watching someone cook shouldn’t be this alluring, but as I’d come to realize, I’d barely been able to keep my eyes away from him as he moved around his kitchen so effortlessly.
Except when I shot a text to our group chat for help, and of course, both Nakia and Hazel encouraged—more like threatened—me to stay put. I was hoping they’d offer to fake an emergency so I’d have to leave, but they were of no help.
For people who’d never met him, they were surprisingly rooting in his favor.
Michael made quick work at the stove, before returning to his seat beside me, his thigh brushing against my knee as he did. I tried to focus on mixing up my bowl, but his presence was becoming too distracting.
Like that was anything new, but there was a perfectly reasonable large dining table just behind us and several other seats around the island, yet he’d chosen this one.
I could spread you open on the counter if you preferred
I shifted in my seat, pulling my phone from my bag, in an attempt to briefly put some distance between us. But it was pointless. He was still far too close as I did quick-math and imputed the values in my phone so I could get enough insulin to cover me.
I knew he’d made changes to the original recipe and swapped a few ingredients for my benefit. The thoughtful gesture sent an all too familiar warmth spreading through my entire body and made those stupid fluttering creatures in my stomach take flight. I tried not to overthink it and brushed it off as him simply being a good doctor and wanting to make sure I wouldn’t have another episode where he’d have to take care of me.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
I pushed away the annoying chirping voice in my head, tucked my phone away, ignoring the countless notifications from the girls asking for an update, and began eating. We sat in silence for a few moments, but the heated tension from earlier only deepened with each passing minute in his close proximity.
I glanced at him, only to find him already watching me. I tried to ignore the expression in his gaze, but it only reminded me that he’d had the same exact look the last time I was here and he’d sent heat scorching through my veins
Hoping to diffuse the atmosphere, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You know, when you asked me to come over, I wasn’t expecting a dinner date.”
I didn’t tell him that I’d expected us to be standing here, with much less clothing.
He was quiet for a moment, when I watched a smile transform his previously stern face. “So this is a date?” he asks, his tone teasing.
I mentally groaned, chastising myself. I hadn’t realized I’d referred to tonight as a date. “Sorry, I didn’t…” I let out a nervous laugh. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
I took a large bite, hoping to buy me some time and more importantly, get me to shut up.
“And you know, I’m quite offended that you think I’m only good for my body,” he added with a raised brow.
I almost choked on my food, grabbing the water nearby to help. I downed half the glass, my cheeks flaming red. This was just perfect, another fucking embarrassment to add to the list. Maybe silence was a better option, why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
“No,” I sputtered, hoping to dig myself out of this even though it seemed to be a lost cause. “Ah, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”
“Azara, stop apologizing,” he said with a soft laugh as he grabbed my chin between two fingers and turned my face so I would meet his gaze.“I’m just messing with you.”
“You’re fucking impossible,” I said, but my voice faltered as his thumb lightly brushed over my jaw. The revering touch sent a shiver running down my spine.
“I might be, but I like the idea that you also think of this as a date.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat from his proximity. His heady musky scent inhibited my senses and the intensity of his gaze only left me with one thought.
I wanted to kiss him.
Badly.
I’d never had this visceral need for someone before and although it was so foreign to me, I wanted to bask in it as long as I could. I didn’t know what this thing between us was, but I was tired of fighting against it and using logic to make the best decisions.
Because when it came to Michael Young, logic seemed to be the last thing on my mind. And by the way he was looking at me in this moment, I could tell he was thinking the same.
Before I could press my lips against his, like I’d longed for over the last two weeks—despite strongly denying it to myself—he pulled back and dropped his hand, my skin suddenly cold at the loss of his touch.
He clapped his hands together once. “Alright, let’s get things cleaned up. I have something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“Patience, gumiho . You’ll have to wait and see,” he said with a wink before grabbing our plates and heading to the sink.
I offered to do the dishes since he’d cooked, but Michael insisted on doing it himself and told me to relax. So while he cleaned and put the leftovers away, curiosity got the best of me and I took the liberty to explore the ground floor of his flat.
I noticed a staircase that seemed to lead to an upper level when I came in, but not trusting myself to end up in his bedroom by accident, I chose the safe option and stayed close.
I trailed over to the living room connected to the dining room by a large arched wall. The space was so meticulously decorated, it seemed to be coming straight out of a museum. Every item was perfectly placed and almost seemed untouched.
But if you paid close attention, there were signs of the place being lived in—the reading glasses tucked in the corner of the large sectional sofa where an indent was present, or the cup marks on the dark oak coffee table.
I moved over to the bookcase on the wall near the giant floor to ceiling windows. The drapes were drawn, but I’d bet the view was breathtaking. I’d always wanted to see the city from high up, but a place like this was way out of my budget.
We made decent money as surgeons—well when we weren’t trainees anymore— but definitely not enough to afford a penthouse. I’d heard the Youngs were extremely well-off from the gossip mill at the hospital, but I didn’t know they had this kind of money.
The rows were mostly filled with various medical textbooks or classic novels, my eyes widening when I realized some of them were first edition.
How much money did this man have?
My gaze roamed over the titles when suddenly the books turned into thinner spines and I noticed he had a massive collection of what seemed to be graphic novels. Out of all the types of books I’d expected to see on these shelves, these weren’t an option I’d even considered.
As I perused the titles, my fingers slowly trailing over the spines, I was slowly coming to realize that the man I’d grown accustomed to at work wasn’t exactly how I’d made him out to be.
There were also a few bits and bobs as well as picture frames decorating the wooden shelves. One in particular captured my attention so I picked it up to get a closer look at it. The photograph was of Michael and another woman, embracing each other on a beach.
She looked like an almost identical younger version of Michael, only with hazel eyes and a smile that made you want to be friends with her instantly.
“That’s my baby sister, Alice,” Michael offered, startling me. My heart rate pounded against my chest at him finding me. I hadn't even heard him come in.
I turned around to face him, gearing myself to apologize for invading his space, but the soft smile on his lips indicated that he didn’t seem to mind.
“Although don’t tell her I called her that, she hates when I call her a baby,” he added as he headed toward me.
I didn’t know much about Michael outside of the hospital but his small concession about his personal life made me want to know more about him and everything that made him.
“How old is she?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t find my question intrusive.
“She turns nineteen next month, which feels even crazy to say because I still remember the day my parents brought her home. She was just a tiny newborn and now she’s off to uni and that makes me feel extremely old,” he said with a fond laugh.
I understood that all too well. I wasn’t one to share, but his ease at telling me about himself, made me want to do the same. “I feel the same with my brother. He’s already sixteen and I don’t know how time flew by so fast,” I shared, my voice growing quiet.
The thought brought a sorrowful feeling squeezing around my ribcage from how it was when he was a toddler, but no matter how difficult the years after that were, he was the only thing motivating me to keep me going.
My mother’s death alone had been hard, but taking care of my brother practically all alone, had been even harder. I loved Zayd like he was my own, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of just quitting a few times. My dad was physically present and provided for us financially and made sure we didn’t need for anything, but my brother had reminded him too much of my mother.
Every time he’d pick him up, he’d become even more of a shell of himself and ask for me to take Zayd away because he had some work emergency to deal with.
My father had gotten better at it over the years—not for my lack of trying—but those first few years were… a lot.
“Azara?” Michael asked as his hand came to rest against my forearm. I hadn’t noticed that he must’ve replied to what I’d said and it remained unanswered.
I opened my mouth to give an excuse about why I’d grown quiet, but he beat me to it. I expected for him to push for answers as to why, but instead, he simply extended his hand and said, “Come with me.”
I looked at his outstretched hand and back to him. “Where are you taking me?”
“You don’t like to be surprised do you?” he asked, with a small laugh.
I lifted my shoulder in a shrug. “Not really. I like being in control.”
Michael pinned me with a dark gaze as he shoved his other hand in his pocket. “Oh, I’m well aware you like to be in control, gumiho .”
I averted my gaze and preoccupied myself by placing the frame back where I’d found it, hoping it’d buy me time to get my body in check and appear completely unfazed by his comment. Although what he’d said and the way he’d said it made fire drip through my veins.
And that nickname. I’d been curious about what it meant since the masquerade ball and had wanted to ask him so many times, but a part of me liked the mystery of not knowing. It made every time he said it seem like more .
I steadied my breathing before turning to face him again. He still had his hand extended so I finally placed my hand in his, his deft fingers wrapping over it before he tugged me to wherever this surprise was.
Michael guided me out of the living room, past the kitchen and down a small hallway until the helical staircase came into view. Never once did he let my hand go and there was an unpredicted calmness that settled over me with the simple gesture.
We slowly climbed the wooden stairs and once we reached the upper floor, he abruptly stopped and faced me. I stopped in my tracks and peered up at him.
“Close your eyes for me,” he told me with a soft smile.
“Why?”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Just do what I tell you,” he softly ordered and with the tone he used, I’d probably do just about anything he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I huffed out before doing as told.
Michael let go of my hand before I felt his body shift behind me, his front dangerously close to my back. He grabbed me by the waist right before his breath fanned across the shell of my ear and I let out a small gasp.
“Don’t open those pretty eyes of yours until I tell you so, yeah?” he whispered in my ear and a shiver slithered through my entire body.
I swallowed thickly and nodded, knowing that if I used words, they’d come out strained and I’d rather him not know the extent of the effect he had on me.
“Good,” he rasped before pressing a feathered kiss there and pulling back. We walked for a few more steps before he stopped. I had the urge to steal a peek, but the strange satisfaction of pleasing him was stronger.
I waited patiently, the anticipation of what he was up to coursing through my veins. Michael let go of my waist, but didn’t move to step away from me, his body still pressed against mine.
“You can open them.”
I opened my eyes immediately, and let out a gasp at the sight in front of me. Whatever I’d imagined was behind the drapes downstairs, was nothing compared to the view in front of me.
A breathtaking panoramic view of London’s skyline was laid out in front of us. Growing up in London, you quickly forgot what it offered since everything just became normal, but seeing it from this viewpoint gave me a new appreciation for the city I’d spent the majority of my life in.
“Want to see it from outside?” Michael proposed, and I paused admiring the view to glance at him over my shoulder.
“Can we?”
“Of course. Anything you want,” he said, his hand finding my back.
He reached for a small bench and grabbed a blanket, draping it over my shoulders, before he slid open the doors of the large terrace. We stepped outside, the frigid air wrapping around us and I was grateful for his mindfulness.
I tugged it closer around my body as I neared the edge, Michael following right behind. If I thought the view was beautiful from the inside, it was even better now.
“This is…”
“Beautiful,” he finished, and I shifted my gaze to find Michael leaning casually against the glass edge, watching… me. Despite his perfectly chiseled features, there was a softness that graced his expression whenever his attention was on me, and I never wanted him to look away.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
We didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t shift our gaze from one another.
Instead, I watched the man whom I’d hated being in the presence of for the major part of the year transform before my eyes. There was something so strangely comforting about his presence. The way he made me feel at ease, almost like all my worries that were hanging over my head didn’t have to be shouldered alone, and I didn’t think I’d ever been given that before.
Sure my girlfriends provided me a sense of security and comfort, but this was different and I found myself craving more of it. Not just him and what had transpired between us two weeks ago, but just time with him.
I’d been on date and hung out with men, but none had made me feel this way.
“To answer you earlier, question.” He paused, and I held my breath as I waited for him to continue. “No, I’ve never done this. You’re the only one.”