Michael's Awakening

by Jaclyn Osborn

  I sent the reply and then sighed heavily. I didn’t get a response back from Melissa so I brought my attention back to my food. Finishing off the last bit of my yogurt, I sat back in the chair and examined my fingernails. Not only did I need some major maintenance on my hair, I also needed a manicure.

  “Boo!” Someone grabbed the back of my chair and shook it, making me jump so high I almost flew out of my seat. Melissa plopped down in the chair next to me and started laughing, hysterically. “Oh, Gabe. The look on your face was priceless.”

  I cut my eyes at her and stuck my nose up in the air. “Not funny.”

  “Don’t be like that, Miss Prissy Bottom. You said you wanted girl time, so here I am.”

  I glanced at her with a serious expression and then we both started laughing. “Okay, it might have been funny. Not really, but I’m just trying to appease your ego.” I winked at her. “So, how is your Monday going?”

  Melissa groaned and rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask? It’s Monday, the most evil day of the week. Which is humorous since it falls right after Sunday, the supposed most holy day of the week.”

  I laughed. “Did you just get out of your graphic thingy class?”

  “3D Graphic Design.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Yes, I just got out. I was on my way to grab a bite before you texted me and asked me to murder you.”

  “Which you almost succeeded at, by the way. My heart is still racing from that scare.”

  Melissa chuckled. “What are best friends for?” Her eyes narrowed as she watched me with a curious look. “Something’s up. What is it?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I averted my eyes from her and watched a couple walk past us, holding hands.

  “Cut the bullshit, Gabe.” Her tone was biting, but I knew she meant well.

  With an exasperated sigh, I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, you win. I kind of met someone Saturday night.”

  “Just a hook-up or something more?”

  “I think just a hook-up,” I nibbled on my bottom lip as I thought of Michael. “But, I don’t know. I can’t get him out of my head.”

  “I can’t believe it. Glamorous Gabe is besotted with someone.” She teased me. “So, was he hot? I live vicariously through you, so spill the beans.”

  We sat and talked for a while, and I told her all about Michael, well what I knew of him, at least. The more I talked about him, the more my stomach knotted up at the thought of not seeing him again. Eventually, Melissa had to leave and go to her next class, but not before she gave me a big hug and told me to cheer up. I sat at the table for a while after she left and enjoyed the beautiful weather, but my thoughts seemed to only want to focus on one thing.

  Michael.

  Dark green eyes appeared in my mind, again, and I finally decided that it was time to leave.

  I drove home and pulled into my parking spot, feeling irritated at myself that I couldn’t get a certain dark haired sex god out of my head. It was just after six o’clock and the sun was already setting in the sky, another sign of the changing seasons. Getting out of my car, I locked the doors, slung my purse over my shoulder, grabbed my cello case, and started walking up to my building.

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I approached the stairs to my front door.

  I had the feeling that I was being watched. With it being twilight outside and me being my fabulous self, I was the perfect victim for some crazy, psychotic stalker. Okay, maybe I had watched one too many Criminal Minds episodes, but whatever. It could totally happen.

  Hearing a car door slam, I quickened my pace as I placed my car key between my fingers to use as a weapon if needed. That was a trick my brother Zach had taught me long ago when I first moved out on my own. I didn’t turn around and investigate the noise like those morons did in scary movies, I just wanted to get the hell up to my door as quickly as possible. The air stirred behind me as I felt someone approach and when a hand clamped down on my arm, I drew my elbow back and hit them in the chest. Hard.

  “Oof! What the fuck!” The person let go and stumbled backward.

  Recognizing the voice, I pivoted on my heels and looked at him, shocked. “Oh my gosh! Michael, what are you doing here?”

  “I was waiting for you to get home so I could take you out.” He struggled to catch his breath. I must have hit him harder than I realized. “But if I knew you were going to go all crazy man on my ass and attack me, I would have worn some padding.”

  I stared at him, amazed. “You want to take me out? Like on a date?”

  Michael chuckled. “That’s how you respond? No ‘Oh, Michael, are you alright?’ Which I’m fine, by the way.” He smirked at me and I thought my heart was going to putter and die with how rapidly it was pounding. “Of course, I want to take you out. Unless… you didn’t want to see me again. And, in that case, I’d feel like a complete idiot by showing up and waiting here for about an hour for you to get home.” His tone was light, but I could see the uncertainty that flared in his eyes.

  “I’d love to go out with you.” I was in shock. I honestly hadn’t expected to ever see him again, especially not to go on a date. It was also shocking that he remembered where I lived. He lifted his eyebrows at me as I stood there unmoving like an idiot and stared at him, fumbling with my keys.

  “Do you need to go up to your apartment for anything? Or do you have everything you need?”

  “Oh. Umm, let me go put my cello away and then I’ll be right back down.” I spun around and hurried up the stairs. Unlocking my door, I rushed inside and slung my purse on the floor, not really caring where it landed at that moment, and set my cello case down in the living room.

  Oh, fuck. I’m having a panic attack. I ran to the bathroom and inspected my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still utterly fabulous, not a hair out of place, so I checked my face next. Opening my makeup drawer, I brought out my foundation and used the brush to dab a little on my nose. Everything else looked good. Bending over the counter, I took deep breaths as I tried to calm myself.

  Why was I so nervous? Because you like him. My inner bitch answered me.

  I rolled my eyes at myself and left the bathroom. Remembering how much Michael approved of my heeled boots, I made a last minute decision and rushed over to my closet, slinging off my flats as I approached. I slipped the boots on, laced them up, and gave myself the once-over in my full-length mirror. I nibbled on my lip as I looked at my shirt, it was simple and boring. I slung it off and walked back to my closet. Skimming my clothes, I grabbed a different blouse and pulled it on. Once I was satisfied, I grabbed my purse from the floor and exited my apartment, locking the door behind me.

  Michael was standing at the bottom of the stairs, with his back turned toward me, and it looked like he was fidgeting with his phone. It briefly reminded me of the scene from Titanic when Jack Dawson was waiting for Rose at the bottom of the stairs before the fancy dinner. He had his back turned toward her as well, and when she approached, he turned around with the most charming of smiles to greet her and take her hand. It was absolutely romantic. You’re crazy, Gabe. Shut up. I really needed to put a leash on my inner sassy bitch, he was driving me nuts.

  As I walked down the stairs toward Michael, he turned and looked up at me with an unreadable expression on his handsome face. And then he smiled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Michael

  Any uncertainty about what the hell I was doing there disappeared when I turned around and saw Gabriel descend the stairs. He looked magnificent. His long legs were concealed under purple skinny jeans and– oh damn– he was wearing those come-fuck-me shoes again. He wore a white crop top that showed off his sexy as sin stomach, and he had a black, fitted jacket pulled on over it.

  I grew hard as a rock just looking at him.

  I was almost tempted to grab his sexy ass and drag him back up the stairs so I could fuck his brains out, but I fought down the urge. After my session with Dr. Chase that morning, I did a lot of
thinking for the rest of the day. The psychiatrist’s advice bounced around in my head until I had no choice but to contemplate my decision.

  Like a good attorney, I argued both sides of the case: try for a relationship with Gabriel or don’t try and leave him alone. I weighed the pros and cons of each argument. It seemed like the main issue I was fighting with myself about was that I was afraid of Gabriel turning away once he realized the truth about me.

  Sure, there were other issues as well, aside from my visible scars. The mental scars were a big concern, too. I was fucked up in the head from all the years of abuse I suffered and I knew that Gabriel deserved better than that. He deserved someone who wouldn’t bring their baggage and drama into his life. Nightmares continuously plagued me and there were certain things that I would really have to work on changing and overcoming. Like being touched. My scars ran deep and were repulsive, too hideous for someone as beautiful as him.

  But, I finally came to the conclusion that I would let him make the decision for himself of whether he wanted to be with me or not.

  I craved him like no other. Since first laying eyes on him, he hadn’t left my mind and occupied my every thought. I was a strong man, I had to be. However, I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to stay away from Gabriel, no matter how hard I tried. Until the moment he turned me away, I would do everything in my power to keep him.

  “You hungry, Princess?” I reached out my arm to take his hand and help him off the last step.

  “Starving!” He grabbed my hand and stepped down, a bright smile on his face.

  “Good.” I led him to my car and helped him inside. It already felt natural being with him, as if I had known him my whole life. That wasn’t true, of course. If I had known a star like him my entire life, maybe I wouldn’t be the fucked up mess that I was now.

  Gabriel had his hands clutched in his lap as I drove us to the restaurant. Was he nervous? What was he thinking?

  “Have you ever been to Ambrosia before?” I asked to break the silence.

  “That’s where we’re going?” Gabriel sounded shocked. “That place is way too expensive. No, I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard about it.” He turned in his seat to look at me.

  “Believe me, Princess. You’re worth every penny.” I glanced at him from my peripherals, but kept my eyes fixed on the road.

  Since it was a Monday night, the restaurant wasn’t overly busy, but it still held a decent crowd for the dinner time rush. Ambrosia was a new, fancy Greek themed restaurant that I had read about, but never had reason to attend. Until now. When reading about it online, I knew that it was the perfect place to take Gabriel. It was the perfect place for a Princess. Plus, the food was said to be spectacular.

  As we approached the entrance, I wrapped my arm around Gabriel’s lower back and guided him inside. Greek columns were positioned throughout the place, with statues of angels and gods placed on top of them in various poses. Green ivy snaked along the walls and plants in decorative vases aligned the walkway to the seating area. Classical music played overhead and the smell of fresh baked bread and spices drifted throughout the room, giving off an intoxicating aroma. A large fountain with the statue of the god Poseidon in its center, holding his notorious trident, was located near the hostess, who greeted us with a bright, fake smile.

  “Welcome to Ambrosia!” Her overly enthusiastic plastered smile faltered a little when she saw my arm around Gabriel. I disliked her already. I tightened my hold on Gabriel and pulled him closer against me, with a smug smile on my face.

  “Reservation for Kingston,” I informed the hostess. Even though we probably could have been seated without a reservation, I hadn’t wanted to risk the chance of having to wait on a table. Also, I might have been somewhat of a control freak and liked when things fell into place in a predictable manner.

  She searched through the names on her list and then nodded her head. “Here we go. Table for two. Right this way, Mr. Kingston.” She grabbed two menus and started guiding us to our table.

  “Kingston is your last name?” Gabriel looked amused, but I wasn’t sure of the reason.

  “Indeed, it is.” I looked at him, puzzled. “Why?”

  We arrived at a small booth in the corner of the room, right beside a window framed with more green ivy. It was a romantically lit area, with a small chandelier hanging above the table giving off a dim light.

  “Alright. Here are your menus.” The hostess placed them down in front of us. “Your server will be Jackson, and he will be with you shortly to take your drink orders.” She then walked off without another word.

  “Okay.” I looked back at Gabriel. “To continue with our discussion. Why are you amused by my last name?”

  “Well, think about it.” Gabriel smiled and leaned closer to me from across the table, “You refer to me as ‘Princess’ and your last name says you’re a king.” He giggled and moved his hand to cover his mouth. It was the most adorable thing I had ever witnessed and I couldn’t help but grin like a fool.

  “So, should you refer to me as ‘Your Majesty’ since I’m king?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I bow down to no one. So, that would be a hell to the no.” He spoke with a hard punch of sass and then picked up his menu to examine it. I felt my heart constrict in my chest, making me realize that I had missed his prissy, snarky attitude more than I had thought.

  “Hello, my name is Jackson and I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Can I start you two off with one of our bottles of wine?”

  The waiter, Jackson, had short, dark brown hair that was neatly styled, a semi-muscled body, and wore the required white button-up shirt and black pants that all the other servers were wearing. I was surprised that they weren’t all wearing togas or something to go with the theme of the restaurant. Personally, I thought the whole theme of the place was overly exaggerated and on the verge of cheesy, but Gabriel seemed to like it, and that’s all that mattered.

  I ordered a glass of the restaurant favorite wine for us and glanced at Gabriel. He was staring at the waiter with an odd look on his face and I instantly became jealous.

  “That’s a very nice choice, sir. I’ll be right back with that.” Jackson walked off.

  “Do you know him?” My voice sounded a little snappy.

  “Why? Are you jealous?” Gabriel grinned and I had a thought of smashing the waiter’s face in when he returned with our drinks. Of course I wouldn’t actually do it. Maybe. I had never been jealous over anyone before, so these feelings were new for me. As I’ve grown to frequently notice, Gabriel brought out feelings in me I didn’t know I possessed. Mine.

  “No, I’m not jealous.” I lied. “You just looked at him like you knew him.”

  “I’m not sure if I do.” He said and then chewed on his lip as he pondered something. “I mean, I have never talked to him before. His name just rang a bell. So, get your panties out of a wad, Mr. Grumps.”

  I scoffed and looked down at the menu, despising myself for already ruining the date. I sucked at dating and socializing.

  “So… Kingston. Are you from England?” Gabriel thankfully changed the subject and I glanced up to meet his gaze. He was still leaning in toward me, which provided me with some comfort that he was still somewhat interested in the date.

  “I never knew my father growing up, so I’m not sure about his side of the family. To be honest, I never knew much about my mother’s side of the family, either. Growing up, all I had was my mother. No grandparents or other family ever came around. It was just me and her. She never spoke to me about her family. I was born and raised here in the United States. Never been to England.”

  “I’d love to go there someday. The fashion is amazing.” Gabriel nibbled on his bottom lip as his eyes scanned the menu. “Wow, everything is so pricey…”

  “Don’t worry about the price. You get whatever you want, Princess. I have it covered.”

  His blue eyes flickered to mine, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m
a prosecuting attorney,” I said and then watched as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Oh, wow. But, you’re so young. I always imagined attorneys to be hateful old men.”

  I chuckled at him. “I’m thirty-four.” Gabriel’s eyebrows rose again. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m not that old. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one.” He answered with a grin. Damn, that really made me feel old. “So, compared to me, you are ancient.” He teased and then winked at me.

  The waiter returned with our drinks and we ordered our dinner. Gabriel tried to order the least expensive thing on the menu, but I scoffed at him and insisted that he order what he really wanted to eat, the price be damned. I had plenty of money, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than to spend it on him.

  “Who is Mr. Big?” I asked once we had our food and began eating.

  “Huh?” Gabriel looked up at me, puzzled.

  “The night we met. You asked me if you should just refer to me as ‘Mr. Big’. What did you mean?” That question had been eating at me since it happened.

  “Oh, that.” Gabriel gave me a small closed-lip smile and put his hand over his mouth to finish chewing his bite of food before talking. “It’s a character from my favorite TV show, Sex and the City. Carrie Bradshaw, the main girl, meets a mysterious, but extremely sexy man who puzzles her from day one. She didn’t know his real name for a while, so she called him ‘Mr. Big.’ I thought it suited you.” He gave me another grin before he picked up his fork and took another bite.

  “Sorry to say that I’ve never watched that show,” I said with a small smile. “Chick-flicks aren’t really my thing.” Gabriel rolled his eyes at that remark. “But, maybe sometime you can try and change my mind and show me what all the fuss is about this Mr. Big character.”

  “I’d love to.” He regarded me with another puzzled look before he looked back down at his food.

  I couldn’t read the expression on his face. Was he angry? Upset?