13. Chapter 13 Back To Normal.
Chapter 13: Back To Normal.
Madison
Despite what happened that night, I want to take things slow.
Killian was called to the hospital after we came back from the police station and hasn't been back since then.
It's been three days, and I miss him.
I'm still shocked that I have developed these feelings for none other than Killian.
There has always been a chance that I would fall in love with him.
The first time I met him, he stayed etched in my mind. Mostly because I was scared of him.
He still tends to have that sinister look even after all these years. However, instead of scaring me, he makes me excited.
There's the sound of his doorbell startling me.
He hardly gets any visitors.
Wait… He doesn't get any.
Could it be that… Steven has found this place?
I look through the door cam, and I see Gwen standing there.
I let out a sigh of relief as she presses the doorbell again.
I open the door, saying, "Welcome to my humble abode."
"I almost thought you weren't going to answer," she sighs as she enters. "Damn. Your boyfriend is really loaded."
"He's not my boyfriend," I remind her, but for some odd reason, my statement affects me… negatively.
"You don't know what you two are yet?" she asks with a sigh as she stares at me like she pities me.
"Of course I do," I respond with a frown. "He's my…"
"Brother's best friend who has to watch over you while your brother is away, so in other words, more babysitter than friend," she completes my statement. "I know I read your texts. I still don't buy it, though."
"What do you mean?" I ask, raising a brow.
She takes a step closer to me and starts sniffing me like a puppy.
"You've had good sex recently," she says.
"What the?!"
"I can tell. There's this glow on your face, your eyes look enlightened, and you're smiling too much after a frown," she says, adjusting imaginary glasses. "If you haven't left the house all this time, then it's safe to assume that there's someone who has offered you the service of carnal satisfaction. In other words, you, my friend, are fucking your babysitter."
She ends her analysis with a look of satisfaction as she nods her head accordingly and continues, "Might I also add that you may be in love?"
"What are you even doing here?" I ask as I walk past her before she notices anything.
"Don't even think that I didn't notice the blush on your face," she says as she walks up to me. "Besides, you're the one who asked me to be here after asking for permission from your boyfriend."
"Not my boyfriend, and please, let's just do your article together," I say with a sigh as I get seated on the couch and turn off the TV.
Killian advised that I invite Gwen over for two reasons.
Firstly, to keep her safe and out of Steven's sight. Secondly, I actually need the company, or else I'd lose my mind.
Being stuck in a house is something I would typically experience if Nathan grounded me.
Killian has given me freedom of movement, but Steven has restricted my movement with his obsessiveness.
It's neither fair nor funny.
So, Gwen is here to keep me company, and in return, I help her write an article.
But…
"Aren't you going to work on your article?" I ask as she turns the TV back on.
"Nope, you will be doing the work. It's your payment for my companionship. Oh, the TV has internet… oh… Netflix. Let's binge Rickey and Montana," she has completely forgotten why she is here in the first place.
I sigh and focus on my assigned work.
"So how has the babysitter been?" she asks.
"Don't distract me," I reply with a frown and continue the work.
"Come on, just humor me," she groans. "I already know you two are fucking. So, spill. How does it make you feel? Aren't there things you feel unsure about?"
Things I'm unsure about?
"I don't know why I like Killian," I admit.
"So, you finally admit," she says with a triumphant expression.
"Just shut up and listen," I say, frowning.
"Geez, okay, okay. Sorry," she says, rolling her eyes, and turns down the volume from the TV. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I guess I can't fully understand if this is love or I'm being infatuated," I reply.
"How so?"
"Well, think about it; I haven't really put that much thought into Killian as a potential love interest. The only thing interesting about him is how I can't get him to bend over and how unreadable he is compared to my brother," I explain. "If my brother says something, I can ignore it or consider it an empty threat. But if Killian says the same thing, I can't tell if he's being serious or not."
"So, in other words, he frustrates you," she summarizes.
"Exactly. If not for that fake kiss at the club…"
"Didn't look so fake to me, though," she murmurs but audibly enough for me to hear.
I ignore her statement and continue explaining, "After that fake kiss, I began to realize that I had developed an attraction toward him. And with each passing day, he seems kinder and more handsome."
"So, the problem is that you can't tell if the feelings you have for him are genuine or something born out of Stockholm syndrome?" she asks.
"Stockholm syndrome?"
"I can't recall if that's the exact term, but it refers to a concept where someone falls in love with another person that they would typically not be attracted to. The underlying motivation is the result of being trapped together in forced proximity, often with one of them being in danger and the other perceived as the solution," she explains. "When you think about it, I guess that's the same thing."
"I thought that was the suspension bridge effect?" I ask.
"No, that's when both of them are in danger," she replies. "I'm surprised, though. You're a writer, and you don't know the meaning of these terms?"
"If you're so smart, why aren't you doing this job yourself?" I respond.
"Again, it's your payment," she reminds me.
I suck my teeth at her and continue working.
Still… didn't Killian mention something similar?
'I'm saying that I shouldn't have done that. You were in an unstable state, and I feel like I took advantage of that. That was not my intention at all, though. Besides, your brother put a lot of trust in me, and I'm sure you also had your expectations of me. I'm usually in control of my emotions, but these days… well, I don't know anymore.'
He has his doubts.
I gave him a blank expression after he said that, but now that I think about it, after listening to what Gwen said, maybe we're both letting the current issues get the better of us.
"Still," Gwen says. "Syndrome or love, whatever it is, if it feels good, and he makes you feel happy about yourself, then there's no need to overthink it."
"You're quite wise," I say with a smile. "That reminds me, what about the guy you hooked up with?"
"You mean my boyfriend ?" she asks. "Widowed and has a kid who loves me. I taught at her school during a special arts and crafts session. To think I'd see her again."
"Wow, he's already your boyfriend? By the way, what was someone with a kid doing at a club?" I ask.
"He happened to be at his brother's birthday party, and coincidentally, he knows Chloe. That's why we both turned up," she explains. "His mother thinks I'm too young for him."
Everyone is going through something, aren't they?
Gwen's company provides me with the relief I need. And now… let's hope it's enough.
***
I wanted to surprise him, so I made some sushi rather than a disastrous lasagna.
Just kidding, I ordered some sushi along with miso soup.
I don't even know how to cook Japanese.
The door opens, and he doesn't look as tired as he did on other days.
"Ta-da!" I wave my hands and proudly show off the meal I've neatly laid out.
The lights are dimmed, and soothing lo-fi music plays in the background.
He looks at the arrangement, and a smile cracks the serious expression on his face.
"What's this?" he asks, his laughter sounding beautiful.
"I made dinner, Konnichiwa (Hello)," I bow.
"Arigatou, oishisou desu (Thank you, it looks delicious)," he replies.
"What?"
"You just spoke Japanese, so you should know what I said," he replies.
"You speak Japanese?" I'm super impressed now.
"Not as good as your brother, but yes, I do," he says. "I didn't know you could cook Japanese. I must say I…"
He looks down and picks up a piece of paper. He turns it to me; it's the receipt from the takeout.
"I heated the soup, so I believe that counts as cooking," I quickly defend.
"It's the chaotic nature of yours that makes me more interested in you," he says as he walks up to me and tussles my hair. "Thank you for the effort to make me a meal. You're a good girl."
The pounding of my heart increases slightly from being praised.
"Let me go get changed, and then I'll join you," he says as he makes his way to the stairs.
I get seated and wait patiently for his descent.
***
"You really put a lot of thought into this," he says after dinner.
We're seated on the sofa, watching adorable animal fails.
I want to lie on his thighs, but I can't seem to bring it up.
Correction: I don't know how to bring it up.
"You don't look as tired as on other days," I say.
"I slept at the office," he says. "The three days were hectic, but we were finally able to get things under control."
"That's nice. I'm a little exhausted myself," I say with a sigh. "Having Gwen over gave me a headache."
"Sorry to hear that. Can I offer you a place to rest your head?" he asks as he taps on his thighs.
"Thank you," I reply calmly, but I'm throwing a major celebration in my heart.
I lay my head sideways on his thighs, and he gently strokes my hair.
It's like paradise .
"I haven't been this comfortable in years," he says.
"How so?" I ask.
"I've always envied people who did things like this," he replies. "I built this house, thinking maybe I'd get something like this. But I always came home to an empty place, relying mostly on my bedroom and gym. The kitchen is fun and all, but I guess it's even more enjoyable when you have someone else to cook for."
Something tells me that he isn't lying.
I turn and lie on my back, looking up at him. "But at least I'm here now."
"Indeed, you are," he says.
I stretch my arms and wrap around his neck, pulling myself close to him.
He holds my back, supporting my approach.
We kiss, and the taste of miso soup and sushi rolls lingers on our lips, but I don't mind.
The gentle groan from him as we kiss satisfies me.
He kisses me harder, holding my head now.
I feel like a little princess.
As we pull apart, he stares into my eyes and says, "Madison, I'm afraid I've become addicted to you."
"I'm afraid so as well," I reply.
We're about to kiss again when my phone starts to ring.
It's Nathan.