The House Always Wins - 15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

That evening, after dinner, I remained in the living room, writing a bit in my diary, and watching some TV. Olivia was on the phone in her room, talking to a friend of hers back home. I was just getting ready to settle in with the book I'd gotten from the bedroom, when I heard the elevator arriving at the residence, the soft ping announcing it. I looked at the clock; 8:30pm.

I glanced over the back of the sofa when Michael stepped out.

"Hi," I said, "Did you forget something?"

He frowned.

"What, can't I come home when I feel like it? I‘ll leave again if it's inconvenient, you know," he spoke, his voice low.

Great...he was in a foul mood. I shook my head.

"No, of course not. I just thought..."

"You thought what?"

"Nothing. Forget about it."

"No, please...thrill me with your sharp intellect."

“I said forget about it, alright?" I replied, irritated. Jesus, what was his problem?

He took a step in my direction, then stopped, shook his head and disappeared down the hallway. He came back half an hour later, cleaned up, wearing a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, with nothing on his feet! Okay, that was...weird. I know I did it because I liked it, but I hadn't seen him do it before.

He went behind the bar and opened the small fridge, taking out a bottle of Heineken and held it up.

"You want water?"

"Umm...sure," I said, looking up.

He brought the beverages over, asking if I wanted a glass. I shook my head, took off the cap, and downed half of it in one gulp. My throat had suddenly felt parched; damn he looked...hot.

He sat down and flicked on the TV. For an entire fifteen minutes I tried to concentrate on the book but seemed to be unable to understand the content. I closed it and snatched the remote from the sofa, where he had put it beside him, and flicked the TV off. He frowned and looked sideways.

"I was watching that," he said, annoyed, pointing to the TV.

"And now you're not," I said, sarcastically. "Why are you here? It not even 9, much less 11."

"So? I'm not allowed to quit early, and relax in front of the TV with a beer?" he responded, irritably.

"Sure, it's your place, but you always work until eleven."

"Oh, I see...you're an expert on me, now?"

"You get up at six, have breakfast, work, lunch, work...bla, bla, bla. Every night you come up around eleven. You disappear into the study, then go to bed," I said, counting off on my fingers. "You're just the most boring person to live with - just totally predictable. And no, I'm not an expert; you said so."

That didn't seem to make his mood a heck of a lot better, judging from the flaming look he sent me. He made a grab for the remote, which I barely got out of his reach in time.

"Hand it over."

I shook my head. "Nope. Something's going on. Tell me."

"Nothing is going on, now give me the remote."

"Sure. You come home at eight, clearly irritated about something. Then you change into something you should wear way more often, by the way, and drink a beer in front of the TV. What's next; cooking classes with Martha?"
A corner of his mouth went up and he turned towards me.

"So you like the clothes?" he asked. He seemed to really want to know the answer.
I muttered something unintelligible. I shouldn't have commented.

"What was that?" he asked, reaching for the remote once again. I held it out of his reach again and something flickered in his eyes. What was with him tonight?

"You are going to give me that remote right now, or I'm going to take it from you. And if I have to, you are not going to like it."

I raised an eyebrow. He spoke it so haughtily that it made all the hairs in my neck stand on end.

"Brute force? How butch," I jibed, shoving the remote safely away underneath the pillow I was leaning against. "Pick on someone your own size."

He was fast; very fast. I let a very embarrassing yelp out when he grabbed my ankles and pulled sharply, effectively sliding me onto my back before I even knew what was happening. He leaned over me, pinning my arms above my head with only one hand on my wrists, and smiled.

"You were saying?" he said, keeping my hands there while I tried to break free.

"I said..." I strained to release myself; damn he was strong, and with only one hand no less. "Pick on someone your own size!"

He grinned above me, pretending that it was effortless, but I'm not that weak.

"Give me the remote."

I strained in earnest now, and he had to work this time to hold me in place, resorting to the use of his weight to win. Okay, if he could play like that, so could I.

"Nope." I brought up my knee and grinned. "Lemme go, or walk funny for a week."

"You wouldn't dare," he smiled, sure of himself.

It faded when I did dare, but it didn't contact where it was supposed to. Instead, I gave him a not-so-soft push on his butt, shoving him off balance, and he fell forward, smothering me under his much bigger form when his weight landed full on me.

"Oompf," I managed to bring out.

He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down, his eyes worried.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I groaned, putting my hands on his chest. "Get up man, you weigh like an elephant."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he smiled, somewhat relieved.

Our eyes met and for a moment, everything went quiet. I held his gaze, and grinned slowly, not entirely sure what was going on. It was a little weird, and I felt giddy when he spoke.

"Are you going to give me that remote now or not?"

I shook my head, still staring into his eyes. It seemed like they were getting closer.

"No, not before you tell me what's going on."

He brought his face closer to mine, slowly, and I pushed my head deeper into the cushions of the sofa.

"What are you doing?"

He blinked, seemingly shaking out of whatever it was when I whispered that last.

"Fine," he said, looking away. He blew out some air, shakily. "Have it your way; I'll go watch in the study."

He stepped off of me and turned, leaving the room. I frowned and sitting up, watched him leave over the back of the sofa. What'd I do!?