She could finally rest.
Liz didn’t realize it until she was out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her wet hair. She wandered over to the bed where the laptop and phone sat, only to realize that she had nothing to do. She had found Alessandro and cleaned up all the other work she needed to do now that she was no longer on vacation. Her only task was to get the painting for Mr. Grenville, and she had already bothered Alessandro enough for the day.
Liz sank unto the bed. What should she do now? TV? Search online news articles? Curl up with a book like Catherine was so fond of doing? The possibilities were endless and she felt frozen, uncertain.
Suddenly, her phone went off. She answered it instinctively, thinking it could only be one of the very few people who would call: her sister, Madison, or Harold.
“Hello?”
“Elizabeth Harley?”
Liz sat up straighter at the voice. It wasn’t one she recognized. “Who’s this?”
“This is Marcus, Michael’s manager.”
She relaxed. Why was she so on edge? Hunter wouldn’t have possibly be so stupid as to call her like that. “Yes, what is it?”
“Have you seen Michael?” The worry in his voice was pungent.
Liz ignored the way her chest tightened at the tone of his voice, her own breed of worry springing sweat on the back of her neck. “No, I haven’t,” she said casually. It bothered her that she had to try. “Why? Has he gone missing again?”
“Yes, right after the show he just disappeared. I thought he had gone back to his dressing room but when I got there, he was nowhere to be found.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere. He’s a grown man, Marcus.”
“Yes, but… she showed up and there’s no telling how that could have affected him.”
“She?”
Marcus paused. “Oh. He didn’t tell you.” Another pause, which had Liz frowning. Melody? “If you haven’t seen him then that’s fine. Thank you for your time.”
He hung up before she could get another word in. Liz stared at her phone, his words swirling in his head. It was one thing for Michael to just get up and leave. He was a free-spirited man, one who thought on the spot. She could easily believe that he had decided to hit the Venetian nightlife without thinking to tell someone of where he was going. But it was another thing entirely when the woman who had angered him so much the last time she appeared before him had showed up again. And Marcus had clearly sounded worried.
Should she be worried?
No. Michael wasn’t her problem anymore. Correction: he had never been her problem. She turned her back on him when she left the tour bus. There was no need to worry about him when he no longer had anything to do with her.
A knock came at the door. Liz got up without thought and wandered over to it, still wondering what she should do now that she had time on her hands. Maybe she could go straight to sleep. End the day early and start the next as soon as she could. She had a few more tricks up her sleeve to deal with Alessandro.
When she pulled the door open, Michael stood on the other side. Liz blinked at him. A wave of… happiness crashed into her at the sight of him. He was leaning against the door jam, resting his head on his forearm. When she opened the door, he popped one eye open to look at her.
“Oh, good.” He closed his eye. “You’re home.”
Liz frowned. She leaned in closer and sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”
“A lot.” Michael pulled himself away from the door then stumbled past her. Liz watched him stagger towards the couches and plopped down. She followed behind him, closing the door. “I’ve had a lot to drink, Liz. A lot a lot a lot a lot—”
“You’re drunk.”
“But!” He lifted one finger, eyes still closed. Michael rested his neck on the back of the couch. “I’m not drunk!”
Liz sighed. She kept a small distance between them, still standing. With the room cast in the slivers of moonlight she’d allowed in, he was a sight to behold, his suit open and his hair an unruly mess that shone like a golden halo.
As much as she hated it—and hated the fact that she did—distance was good. Distance would keep her levelheaded. “You need to leave.”
“No.” Michael shook his head vehemently. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to—to talk to you. I won’t leave until I do.”
“Not while you’re drunk like this.”
“Then when?” He popped one eye open, searching for her in the slight darkness. When he found her, he opened the other eye and sat up. “You know what they say about alcohol, Lizzie, dear. Liquid courage. Oh, my bad. You don’t like being called dear.”
She contemplated getting him out by force, but she didn’t think getting too close to him was a good idea. “Alright, if you want to talk then talk.”
Michael focused his eyes on her, squinting. Suddenly, he laughed. “You’re really intimidating, you know. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I’ve heard it once or twice.”
“Of course, you did. There’s no way you haven’t.” He released a deep sigh. “Liz. Why did you leave?” She opened her mouth to answer but she didn’t get the chance to. “And don’t tell me any bullshit about this just being for sex and you were over it. I refuse to believe that.”
“It’s the truth.”
But he shook his head. “You heard. You heard what happened between Melody and me.”
Liz wasn’t sure what to say to that at first. What else could she say but the truth? “Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “But that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.”
Another deep sigh. “She showed up again, saying she wanted us to start over.”
“That isn’t my concern.”
“It is,” he insisted, so forcefully, Liz stood a bit straighter. “Three years ago, she left me for someone else. After I found them in bed together.”
“How… terrible for you.” And she meant it, felt the pang of hurt hit her own body as if it had been done to her. Yet, she heard herself and knew it didn’t sound like anything more than her usual dry comments. “That must have been awful,” she added after a moment.
Michael only shook his head, lost in the reminiscence. “I thought I was going to die. Heartbreak… it should be a real illness. It was so painful, I thought I would never recover from it. And I begged her to stay. Begged her to stay with me despite the fact that she was the one who hurt me. I told her I would forgive her, that we could get over it but she didn’t budge. And for a whole year after that, I was distraught.”
Liz didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. She could still hear the pain in his voice and he swallowed past a lump in his throat as if he was trying not to cry. “I scared the hell out of Marcus. I don’t do well with pain and so I was doing everything in my ability to forget it even existed. Everything to forget about her. I went off the deep end. I drove him senseless with worry, but I didn’t care. I was chasing any high to forget the pain of what she did to me. Then that lost its value, as well. After a while, it became impossible to get me out of bed. I couldn’t eat, hardly slept. Hardly did anything I should have done.”
Liz looked away, hating the way his words made her feel. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Suddenly, he was on his feet. Liz didn’t have any time to back away. He grasped her arms, looking quite sober now though the smell of whiskey still hung heavy on his breath. “Because, I don’t feel that way about her anymore. She came to me tonight, hoping to start over and I didn’t feel a single thing. All I could think about was you.”
“Michael—”
“Wait, let me finish. If I don’t get this all out now, I don’t know when I’ll ever muster up the courage to do it again.” He took a deep breath. “I know the reason your other partner and you didn’t work out was because he was developing feelings he shouldn’t have. I know you’re very opposed to all of that but… but I lied.”
“You lied?”
“When you said that this had to be strictly sex. Nothing more, nothing less. I lied when I said I was okay with it. I wasn’t looking for someone, yes, but I knew I had to say I was okay with it or else you wouldn’t have even spared me a second glance.”
“And now, you’ve developed feelings, too.”
Michael nodded, his hands falling away. “I couldn’t let you leave without letting you know. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if there had been a slim chance that something could have happened between us.”
Liz didn’t respond.
Michael laughed nervously, backing away. “Okay, the whiskey is wearing off now and I’m just starting to hear myself. I sound like a crazy person.”
Liz watched him walk away, his hands in his hair. “You do,” she agreed with a nod.
He laughed again, sounding more like himself, though it was far off from his usual laugh. He paced back and forth, his smile falling as he turned to face Liz again. “But you’re not kicking me out. I think I’m going to take that as a good sign.”
“You should.”
Hope flickered across his face. Liz took that as the moment to come forward, to bridge the gap between them. The gap she had made, without even giving it a second thought—because it was just what she always did. It was what she was used to. By the time she was upon him, Liz knew she had nothing to say to him. Nothing she could say would be enough. So, she did the one thing she thought was best, the first thing that came naturally to her when it came to Michael Davidson.
She grabbed his head and kissed him.
She tasted surprise on his tongue, but it quickly morphed into something she understood perfectly well. Michael wrapped his hands around her waist, bringing her closer, and she deepened the kiss. He tasted just the same, and it frightened her to feel how much she had missed him.
Finally, she pulled away. Michael gazed into her eyes, searching, confused yet bright with hope.
“This Melody woman sounds like a real bitch,” Liz said.
Michael blinked in bemusement. Then they both laughed. He pulled her in closer, breathing her in. Liz didn’t know how it was possible, but being this close to him made her feel safer than she’d felt in days.
“Let’s see where this takes us.” Liz held his eyes, letting her fingers graze his back. “I don’t want to make any promises but… let’s see where this thing goes.”
“It’s the best I can hope for from Elizabeth Harley.”
“Oh, yeah. And don’t call me Lizzie again.”
His chuckle shook her body. “I was under the influence. Cut me some slack.”
“I will this time,” she said with a teasing glare. “But next time, I probably won’t be so nice.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t like you for how nice you are.”
Liz tensed at that, but he dipped his head again, capturing her lips for another kiss. It didn’t take long for her body to relax, to mold itself against his tall frame as if they were meant to fit together. Slowly, Michael hooked his arm under her legs, lifting her bridal-style.
“Hey, I don’t like when—”
“Shh,” he pressed another kiss to her lips, cutting her off. “Let me make up for lost time.”
“It’s only been about two days,” she pointed out.
“Do you know how many times I could have had you screaming my name in those two days?”
“I don’t know,” she played along. They’d made it to the bedroom, Michael skillfully kicking off his shoes while he held her steady. “You might have to demonstrate.”
His grin was wide and devilish and did dangerous things to her heart. “Lucky for you, I’m a great teacher.”
Liz let out a yelp when he threw her on the bed. Her robe fell open, exposing her legs and her breasts, but he stopped her before she could cover herself back up. Slowly, Michael tugged on the tie until the entire thing fell apart and exposed her naked flesh.
“Beautiful,” he breathed.
To her complete horror, Liz flushed.
Michael didn’t notice. His eyes were glazed over, his fingers running down the side of her torso. Liz didn’t dare move. None of her previous lovers had ever appreciated her like this, as if she was pure art, and having Michael stare lovingly at her didn’t turn her off like she expected it to. In fact, she had never been so turned on in her life.
“Do you know what you do to me?” he whispered. Liz shuddered at his breath caressing her skin, at the way he ran his lips over her bare nipples. “You drive me insane.”
Liz held his head, letting him explore. He was moving slower than the previous times. Before, it was all passion and desperation, two people wanting nothing more than to fill their need of the other. Now, it was tender. He was taking his time. And for once, Liz didn’t mind.
His tongue flicked out against her nipple. Liz let out a soft gasp. As if the sound spurred him on, Michael covered it with his mouth, his teeth and his tongue playing until she was writhing beneath him. He kept a heavy hand on her thigh, keeping her from squirming too much.
His hand played with her other breast, twisting and flicking the nipple. Liz bit her lip, trying to hold back her moan.
“Don’t hold it in,” he murmured against her skin. She looked down to see him staring up at her. “I want to hear you.”
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear herself. Slow and passionate wasn’t her type of sex. She liked it hard and fast and quick. Then she could moan because then it was warranted. Here, he was doing nothing but playing with her breasts and she thought she just might combust.
But she didn’t think she could control it when his finger began its slow descent to slide itself against her, and a tiny moan slipped out. His tongue wrapped around her nipple again, licking and biting and tugging. Then his finger slipped inside.
Liz gasped at the sudden feeling. She squirmed against his hand, gripping the sheets when he stroked her insides. He was still slow, still soft in his movements. Yet everything inside her seemed to be set on fire.
He continued like that, unhurried and tender, building something in Liz she had never felt before. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and as he continued on, exploring every inch of her body, she felt like she was being enslaved. With every touch, every caress, every breath that brushed her skin, she caved to him. He told her to moan and she did, without even a second thought. He controlled her, quite literally holding her in the palm of his hand, and when she came it was when he was ready for her. When he gave her permission to do so, when he requested it. Liz’s body shuddered with the remnants of it, wanting to hate herself for all the control she had given up, but instead, just feeling strangely unburdened. She did not have the energy for any pretending anymore.
But when he climbed on top of her, things changed. She was no longer at his mercy, but they were in it together. He was as weak to her as she was to him, and they held each other, rising and rising and rising until they hit their peak at the exact same time.
Liz didn’t move for a while after that. She laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.
“I would take your hand,” he whispered beside her. “But I don’t want you to kick me out.”
Liz didn’t respond. At least, not in words. She only reached out a weak hand and hooked a few of her fingers around his. He turned to her when he did, and she didn’t have to look at him to know he was wearing a sappy smile, surprised at her actions. After what he’d done for her tonight, it was the least she could do, she decided.
Besides, she was sort of enjoying it. She didn’t know hand holding could be so nice.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” she murmured after a few seconds of silence.
“What? Sex? If that’s the case, then I’m going to need a rundown on what we’ve been doing all this time, because now I’m lost.” Michael chuckled at his joke.
Liz didn’t laugh aloud, though she felt it rise in her. “I’ve never had sex like that before. So… intimate.”
Michael turned his body to her, resting his head on his hand. “You say the word intimate as if it’s a curse.”
This time, she did laugh, though it held no mirth. “Would you believe me if I said I thought it was? Intimacy is just something I don’t do. I don’t have any time for it.”
“You don’t have any time for it or you don’t make any time for it?”
“It’s the same thing.” She faced him, mimicking his position. This. This was intimate as well, yet it felt so normal. “Intimacy is for people who want more out of their relationships than just sex.”
“And that’s all you’ve ever wanted.”
“That’s all I’ve ever needed. Relationships bring emotion and emotions bring—”
“Weakness.”
Liz nodded, surprised at how easily he understood. “I have a plan for my life. I can’t afford to be weak.”
Michael ran a lazy hand down her arm. “As much as I don’t agree, I understand. Just look at Melody and me. She made me weak and foolish. I did and said things that, looking back, I’m so ashamed of. I never thought I would allow myself to be like that. She made it so easy to give that all up, though. But, Liz, just because the sex was different, doesn’t mean we’re going to get up and get married the next day. Although I actually wouldn’t mind …”
“Over your dead body,” she cut in and he laughed loudly. She also smiled.
“My sister is the opposite of me,” she went on. “She’s all for commitment. She even got married at a young age. I guess when I saw how badly things went for her, I vowed not to let myself be so stupid and trust someone I didn’t know. I pitied her. I was scared of falling into that trap. But even though it didn’t work out for her the first time, that didn’t stop her from finding the man of her dreams, years later. ”
“The Liz I’ve gotten to know didn’t strike me as the type to be afraid of anything, least of all commitment.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said sharply. Michael only raised a brow. “I’m not afraid. It’s called being aware. It’s a risky venture, one I’m not that willing to invest in for the potential gains. The potential losses are too high.”
“It’s not an investment scheme.”
“Yeah? You can’t convince me otherwise.”
“That’s why you pushed that guy away. Is that what you always do? Push people away when things are getting too deep?” He took her silence as an answer. “What happened to seeing where this takes us?” He continued trailing a finger on her arm, despite the slight annoyance that dipped into his voice.
“I’m letting you know more about me, Michael. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I did. I do.” Sighing, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “Forgive me if all this makes me think I don’t have a chance with you.”
She knew he was hoping for a response to that, for some kind of reassurance, but Liz didn’t have any to give. And when they both fell silent, she knew he had taken that in itself as a message.
He fell asleep soon after that, breathing softly in her ear. She watched him sleep. Like an energetic child who had just spent the entire day on his feet, Michael looked too peaceful when he slept, curling into himself. The sudden urge to brush her fingers over his hair overcame her, and Liz curled her fingers into a fist. She couldn’t help staring at him a while longer, at the open palm facing upwards, just begging to be held.
Finally, she found the strength to turn her back to him.