Chapter Three — James.

“No..no James please don't go,” Simon cries out as he stirs beside me, causing me to take a peek up at him. He jerked out of his slumber immediately.

“Simon?”

He's sweating and panting, hot sweat dripping off his chin onto the sheets, soaking them. I sat up and pulled him closer. “What's wrong? Had a bad dream?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. “I dreamt about a monster chasing us both and I fell behind to help you out when he was close to you. It felt so real,”

“Well, serves you right for watching those movies last night. Now you'd listen a little more when I warn you next time. Let's go get you a glass of water and some breakfast,”

“Ugh, Physics for the first period. Damn, Miss Clair knows how to spoil a good day,” he groans, curling under the sheets once more. I'm not surprised, Simon hates Physics. If he could get out each day on Calculus, he'd be golden. I hated every science subject too, choosing to stick closer to the arts and achieve my law dreams someday.

“Quit whining and tell me what you'd like to have,” I stand, slipping my cold toes into the rubber ducky slippers beneath my bed. I've been making breakfast for the whole family for as long as I can talk. Mom was once a devoted culinary chef and while I was still a toddler she always brought me into the kitchen with her. That's how I fell in love with cooking.

“Aww, anything?” he smiles cheekily, wriggling his brows.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah sure, anything apart from scrambled eggs.”

He pouts at this. “That's not fair — ”

“Get ready,” I grin deviously, jamming the door hard behind me as I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I got lunch started afterward, packing it up for us all. Today we're having Tuna sandwiches with sardined bread slices.

“Son,” Dad beams at me at the doorway, stepping into the room and pulling my forehead down for a peck.

“Pancakes and maple today Dad. Also, scrambled eggs in the pan in case you want some,” I hand him his plate and he heads into the dining area. He starts digging in when Mom walks into the kitchen and kisses me on the top of my head in the passing. I heard a chair screech backward and vicious lips smacking. Cringing, I focus on the lunch I'm packing.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't irk me whenever they got like this but it's been destined to be this way for the both of them to live the rest of their lives loving each other. They're perfect for each other and such a show of affection left me envious. I'm still hopeful about love and as if on cue the image of Michael's deep dark eyes flashed through my mind as well as the guilty moments I'd fantasized about him after lights out. I pictured him on top of me biting that tender spot between my neck and body and another of him thrusting hard inside me as I moaned out his name while tracing my fingertips over his belly muscles.

It's a good thing Dad and Mom decided to eat in the dining otherwise they'd have seen my heated face.

“Snap out of it,”

I freeze, not noticing when Simon walked into the kitchen. He's got his mouth full of eggs while his eyes are fixed on my every move.

“Isn't it Physics in ten minutes? What are you still doing here?” I glare at him, handing his lunch to him. It's a miracle if the sandwiches survive the car drive to school.

“Observing you,” he winks, and I have to bite back my groan. He takes the paper bag from me, waved me goodbye after alerting my parents of his leave, and whizzed out the door.

“Where's he off to this early?” Mom asks and I reply slowly, bacon between my teeth. 

“Physics,” I managed.

“Ah, he's such a bright lad then.” Dad and Mom see Simon as some genius or a demigod for sticking close to science. Everyone knew it wasn't that easy, and it needed a lot of devotion and extra effort to make the cut yet Simon succeeds in getting straight A's every time. I've always wondered what magic he performed because it's obvious he doesn't read before tests or exams. Due to this, my parents were supportive of our friendship as they are assertive that I'd learn one or two things from him. They gave me a long leash ever since I crossed eighteen with Simon having to fight off Mark who tried to sexually molest me at homecoming. That was the peak of our freedom.

If Michael was the one Simon punched, I'm doubly sure he'd just laugh it off and still do what he wants to do, unlike Mark who steered clear from anything about me from that day onward. Rumour had it that he cried and felt bad for his misconduct but I knew who I was dealing with here. Mark never feels sorry for anything and if it weren't for Simon, I'd spend my days staying in the locker room and trying to hide my bruises.

“We won't make it back on time tonight dear,” Mom protrudes into my train of thought. She navigates around the kitchen island, gently placing her plate in the sink. “That was a lovely meal,”

“You won't be back for dinner? Are you traveling or what?”

“It's all business hon, your Dad and I will be very busy from now on but don't you worry. All I need you to do is study and look after yourself,”

Dad walks in to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can't wait to taste your cooking again. That was delicious.” he smacked his lips in pleasure.

My Dad wasn't pleased to see me treasure cooking at an early age. He'd tell Mom over and over how wrong it was to let boys into the kitchen. With time, my cooking grew on him. He began to look forward to each meal I'll cook and I love it.

“For your Dad's sake, I'm sure we'll dash home faster,” Mom reaches out to pinch my cheeks. “Please James, don't creep the new guy out. It was so difficult finding someone like him. I hope you understand?”

“Mom, I'm gonna do nothing,” I reassure her, turning on the dishwasher. Seriously, what haven't I contemplated doing already? I had a nice dream of him last night, fantasized about us having sex and lots of kisses, longing to kiss those tattoos... I'm no saint.

“You'd be under tough surveillance and I want you to make this work,” Dad beams at me. “Your Mom and I don't want anything ugly happening to you,”

“Alright, alright I'll cooperate. You both need to get to work,” I hold up their paper bags as Mom kisses my forehead again before they left the kitchen. I sigh as they leave, turning to pick on my eggs.

I press the play button on my music player and instead of eating, began to dance. I shook my body wildly, wanting to forget everything about last night and purge my mind of thoughts about Michael. He's supposed to be around somewhere. As I realize this, my body jolts, and by some instinct, I reluctantly dart my eyes out the kitchen window to lock with dark ones.

Michael stood over the window, staring at me without a solid expression.

I struggle to catch my breath and calm my racing heart as our eyes linger on each other. I'm too mortified to move on r look away as I scan his dress. He's on blue trousers, a white shirt that mirrored his hard-rock body, and a matching red tie.

I stay still as he began to move slowly towards me, his long thick legs zipping up the distance between us. He stops at the double glass doors, pausing to draw them apart, and slips right in.

I take a sharp breath intake as the door screeches to a close with him leaning on it. We stay there for what seemed like hours till I finally found enough guts to speak. “I made pancakes. You can have them with the maple syrup over there,” I babble, pointing at the plate on the countertop. Of course, I included his stomach, he's my bodyguard after all. His duty was to protect him while mine was to ensure he was working on a full stomach.

“You cooked for me,” his brows drew up into a thin line in the middle, confusion etched. I've never heard him say anything so it's amazing how I detect a strong Russian accent. His voice is the deepest baritone I've ever heard.

“I cook for everyone around here,” I nod, not trusting myself to look up and not do anything stupid. Jeez, what's gotten into me today? How can he have me wrapped around his fingers in less than a week he's been here?

I've never felt an attraction for anyone. No one at all.

I feel more than heard him walk farther into the room towards me as I set his plate on the kitchen island. Upon turning, I'm overwhelmed by how dangerously close he is. Our eyes lock once again.

“I'm sorry if the eggs aren't enough. My best friend has a rather unhealthy addiction to them,” I breathe out evenly, more like in chaos. His face is expressionless, scaring me the more.

He grabbed the plate and sets it beside him on the countertop, his eyes never leaving me, and neither does he moves. “It's fine. I'm satisfied with whatever quantity you choose to serve me,”

I immediately feel bad for him but that doesn't dissuade the warmth crawling up my neck from pouring out on both cheeks. I don't want to think too much about what he just said but it seems he reads me too well. I can't take this much longer.

I began cleaning up to distract myself but he pulls out a hand, stopping me. “Leave it. I'll do the dishes,”

I'm should say something because we already have three men whose duty was to clean up the dining and wash up the glassware after meals. Maybe he feels letting him clean was the only way to repay me for cooking for him. “You should start getting dressed for school,” he checks me over as embarrassment rises behind my ear. I look down at my attire and regret ever stepping out of my room. I'm on an oversized shirt with shorts too small to cover even my high thighs. What other news than how transparent the shorts are, it's like I'm practically naked, waist downwards.

“A-a-alright!” I say, turning to leave but he grips my wrist in an instant, pulling me closer to him. I'm rooted, standing so close enough to smell his manly scent of musk and aloe. His dark eyes glitter down at me and I instantly know what it is he needs. “Do you wear shorts all the time?” his husky voice is deep and sensual.

I wet my bottom lip, willing him to kiss me or better, hold my lip between his teeth. His question although stupid happens to be my means of starting something.

“Why don't you find out for yourself,” I pull away and move straight to the stairs, the image of his glittery eyes filled with desire forever burned into my memory.