“Nah.” He shook his head and shifted his weight around. “As much as I’m enjoying finding out about every borough man’s junk, I’m gonna go home.”
He murmured the words as if they were only for me, but the girls beside him heard all the same.
“Aw, come on, Micah.” Céleste poked his arm. “You know you’re having fun, really. Come get drunk with us. Sam does all the time.”
“I know. I hear him falling up the stairs when he’s trying to get into the flat.”
“It’s true,” I admitted. “I can’t remember the last time you didn’t have to get up and let me in.”
Micah smirked a little at that. True facts, you see. But I could tell he was done for the night. Despite further protests from the girls at the bar, he pulled his hood up and left.
We all watched him go. The girls for obvious reasons. Me because I was anxious the icy weather would make the pavements slippery for him. And the other reasons. Because it was impossible to look at Micah and not notice how beautiful he was.
Céleste sighed. “He’s so dreamy.”
“He’s moody as fuck,” Jennifer countered. “Who’s got time for that?”
“Who needs to have time for it when it’s never going to happen?” Céleste said. “He’s gay, right? All the best ones are.”
Their conversation moved on. The glass in my hand creaked, and I realised I was clutching it in a death grip. I set it down, half proud Céleste considered Micah amongst the best dudes in town, and half furious that they’d had the gall to discuss him in the first place.He’s not a piece of fucking meat.
I left the bar and busied myself cleaning tables as the pub emptied out. Irritation buzzed in my veins, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. The girls hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Micahwasmoody, and he was also the nicest dude I’d ever known. Sweet, considerate, and fiercely protective of the handful of people on the planet he actually liked. One day, when he was ready, he’d make someone an amazing—
“Sam?”
“Hmm?” I spun around. Céleste was behind me, perfect brow raised. “Sorry, what?”
“You look like your dog just died.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“I wasn’t being literal, sweetie. Just stating facts that your face is telling me the worst thing in the world just happened to you.”
I made an effort to school my features. “Sorry. In a world of my own. Did you need me for something?”
Céleste took my arm and towed me away from the table I was working on and into the shadows of the faithful fire exit. “I wanted to apologise for bringing Micah into our gossip pool like that earlier. We didn’t mean anything by it. I know you two are close.”
“I didn’t have a problem with it. It’s none of my business.”
“What isn’t? The screechy conversations me and my girls have at a public bar, or Micah’s love life?”
“Either.”
“Uh-huh.” Céleste sent me a smirk that called bullshit. “So that’s why you get so pissy anytime someone mentions how hot he is?”
“I don’t get pissy.”
“Liar. Look, I can’t control what other people say, but if it helps, I can stop the girls drooling over him in front of you.”
“Why the fuck—” Dammit. What the hell was I supposed to say? Denying that I hated it when Céleste—no,anyone—talked about Micah that way was pointless, but trying to control a narrative that didn’t belong to me was even worse. “Don’t do anything on my account, okay? Me and Micah are just friends. Flatmates. Who fancies him has got nothing to do with me.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I set him up with my cousin then?”
“What?”
“My cousin. He’s coming over from Paris next month, and I think him and Micah would get on great.”
“How the hell would you think that when you don’t know Micah?”
