The distance between us was deliberate. I was finding it harder and harder to be away from him for any prolonged period of time, but I had exams coming up... exams I’d ballsed-up once already. I couldn’t afford an entire morning of Micah distraction.
I lost myself inFrankenstein, a novel that bored and enthralled me in equal measure. Time slipped away. My stomach growled. I checked my phone: 13:00.Shit. I’d left Micah downstairs for three hours.
Cursing, I packed my books and pens away and dashed for the lift. It didn’t come.Fuck it.I ran to the stairs and jogged down them at breakneck speed. The armchair where I’d left Micah was by the window, behind the true crime section. I half expected to find it empty, a cold cushion where he’d once been, but as I stumbled round the corner, he was still there, legit engrossed in his book.
My herd-of-elephants approach gave my presence away. He glanced up and a ghost of a smile danced on his lips. For a long moment, he simply stared at me while Igazedat him.
Then he lifted his arm and gestured for me to sit beside him.
I didn’t need asking twice. I dropped my bag and inserted myself into the small space left on the snuggle chair. It was a perfect fit. Micah let his arm fall around my shoulders. I leaned into him and swallowed a ridiculously contented sigh.
In an effort to contain myself, I peeked at his book. “John Irving cracked you, then?”
“A bit. I keep thinking it’s boring without you, then another hour goes by and I haven’t looked up.”
“The magic of a good book.”
“Either that or I’ve got a thing for cross-dressing.”
“That right?”
Micah hummed. “Maybe. Whatever. You got me. I like the book.”
Victory started a rave in my belly. I’d been waiting for this day since we’d met, or rather, since I’d first realised he was craving a healthy way to detach from reality. My mind immediately jumped to what I could get him to read next.
He tapped my temple. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Driving at a hundred miles an hour. Just enjoy being right for once.”
“For once?”
“Yeah. You were wrong about my capacity for words about twenty times.”
“Fifteen, actually.”
“Whatevs.”
Micah went back to his book, and it was the most enchanting thing to watch. I cuddled against him, absorbing his warmth, and enjoyed the most perfect moment we’d ever shared.
* * *
Micah
Sam made everything better. One day he’d learn he didn’t have to try so hard. That his company was enough. Thathewas enough. And I liked the book, though I still knew jack about wrestling, which would disappoint Freddie if he ever spoke to me again.
The thought stoked the black fire smouldering in my belly. To calm it, I shifted my gaze to Sam. He was leaning against me, eyes closed. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have assumed him asleep.
But I did know better. Sam slept like a dead man, smooth-faced and serene. Not with the myriad of thoughts creasing his forehead or the wild animal that was apparently trapped in his stomach.
I nudged him. “Hungry?”
“Huh?” He opened his eyes. “How did you know?”
“Psychic.”
“If only.”
