Page 69 of Don't Leave Me

“We should sleep. You have a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow, missy,” he raised his eyebrows at me teasingly.

I gave him a crooked smile. I was wide awake and wanting to stare at and talk to Michael for as long as I could.

“You’re tired?” I asked, then glanced over at the alarm clock on my bedside table: it was almost midnight.

He shrugged a little. “I could sleep. I’m happy now,” he stated genuinely, a faint smile on his face.

My heart raced.I don’t think I’ll ever stop being crazy about this man.

“Me too,” I beamed, giving him a sweet peck on the lips and turning to my side to turn off the light.

I felt Michael wrap his arm around my waist and scoot closer to me, spooning me and nuzzling his nose into my neck.

“Goodnight, Han. I love you,” he whispered.

I smiled, wanting to jump up with joy, but instead put my hand on his and entwined our fingers together.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, feeling a tear fall down the side of my cheek.

As happy and content as I was, I couldn’t fall asleep. Hours passed, my mind racing: I have so much work to catch up on. I still need to interview that performer on Broadway. I need to start writing again. I need to start working out more. I need new winter clothes. I knew what was coming: insomnia and racing thoughts were the tell-tale signs that hypomania was creeping its way up on me.

I watched Michael sleep for hours, daydreaming about getting married upstate and buying a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights.We’ll have blue and/or green-eyed, brown-haired adorable babies and buy a summer house in the Hamptons where I’ll drink lemonade and work on a novel while Michael builds the kids a swing set as they make sand castles. Can Michael build things? Does he even want children or marriage? Now definitely isn’t the time to ask him these things. Just take it slow…

By 3 AM, my mind finally started to calm a little, and my exhausted body fell asleep.

My alarm clock woke me up promptly at 8 AM; as I turned to shut it off, I saw Michael sitting up on his side of the bed, looking down at his hands that held my phone.Fuck, this again?

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying not to sound too irritated – he could have just been looking at the time or making a call oranythingother than snooping.

“There’s five missed calls on here from Jack,” he said lowly, glancing over at me suspiciously.

I shrugged nonchalantly.

He sighed heavily and looked back down at my phone, moving his fingers around the screen, looking like he knew what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” I asked again, sitting up.

“I’m deleting and blocking his number,” he explained, point-blank.

Okay, don’t argue with that. Just let him do this and make him happy.I didn’t say anything as I scooted over to him and put my hands on his shoulders from behind him, then ran my fingers through his hair before I gently put my lips to his neck. I was suddenly and immensely horny. I heard him gasp quickly at my touch as he threw my phone down and turned to face me, taking both of my hands with his and pushing me onto my back. He hovered over me, his eyes intense and full of longing as he surveyed my body.

“Please fuck me, sir,” I whispered, putting my hands above my head and holding onto the rails of my headboard.

Michael grinned slowly, then hopped up and headed to my closet full of scarves, craftily choosing my restraints like it was art.

* * *

Michael took my hand as we walked up the stairs out of the subway station and as the cold December air bit our cheeks. We were back in the real world, back in Manhattan and on our way to work, though we were still in our own little bubble; Michael kept cracking jokes, being playful and just in a generally good mood as we walked the short distance from the subway to work.

Michael stopped before we turned the corner to reach our building, still holding my hand and giving it a little squeeze. I turned to him, about to ask him what was wrong.

“I don’t want to hide what we have,” he said quietly before I could speak.

I was confused. “You mean, at work?”

He nodded, his eyes widened a little bit like he was nervous that he brought it up or was seeking my approval. I felt my lips curl into its crooked smile.

“I don’t want to hide it either,” I shrugged.

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