I pushed on the pedal to go faster, and he clicked his tongue. “She sent back ayes.”
I didn’t know a lot about the town, but my mind was already overactive. Instead of thoughts about partying, they turned darker. Drugs. Sleeping with married men. What if a guy beat her up? Hurt her? My jaw ached, and I got off the highway and pulled into a parking lot with a large gray building.
The blank building had one large word painted on it: MICKIE’S.
“Ah, Mickie D’s makes sense now,” Michael said, jutting his chin toward the building. “Strip club.”
“My sister is stripping?” I frowned, hurt that I didn’t know this, but then again, why would she tell me? There was zero judgement in my body if she was in fact stripping. Hell, my freshmen lab partner made a shit-ton of money getting subscribers to her Onlyfans. I respected that hustle.
But in this town?
When I thought she had a better life… and had everything? I honked like she asked, and not two seconds later, a black door swung open, and she marched out. She wore short shorts and a black crop top and cowboy boots. She looked good, and my eyes prickled with relief.
She’s safe.
She jogged to my car and threw herself in the backseat before slamming the door. “Go.”
I was on the road again in ten seconds, and her perfume flooded the car. It was way too strong and, if I was correct, had a hint of vodka mixed in. “So, you going to—”
“No,” she said, her tone fierce. I met her eyes in the rearview mirror for a second before she looked down. She crossed her arms over her chest and kept her face neutral as I tried to think of what to say.
I wanted to demand answers, but we weren’t there. I wanted to tell her I was so happy she was okay, but that made my tongue feel too big for my mouth. Instead, I turned on the radio and took deep breaths. This sucked. Too many unsaid words and emotions threatened to overcome me, and I was seconds away from losing it when Michael reached over and placed his hand over mine.
He squeezed my hand and left his there, the weight of it soothing in an odd way. It was just his palm on my fingers, but that support, the silentI’m here,was enough to get me through the ride. The air was thick enough to cut with a knife, but I could breathe because his presence helped.
I barely pulled onto campus before she said, “Here’s fine.”
“I can take you to your place,” I said, confused and angry and upset. “Can we please discuss what happened?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks, Naomi,” she said, fury lacing her tone like sharp knives to my chest. “You don’t get to give a shit now.”
“Hey,” I fired back, glaring at her in the mirror even though she wasn’t looking at me. “I do care. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Michael’s grip tightened on me, and Cami looked up, the hurt so clear in her eyes. I wished I could go back in time to when we were close. When we told each other everything and had trust between us. When we’d shared more than half of a last name.
“Cami,” I said, my voice clogged with emotion I wasn’t prepared to handle.
She met my gaze, and for one second, her eyes, just like mine, softened. But then she got out the door and slammed it. I winced and leaned back into my seat, completely spent.
Michael, my dad, Cami. My once normal and uneventful life was filled with all sorts of feelings and complications, and my analytical mind preferred the former. Without all the emotions. When my brain overworked, I shut down.
“Hey,” Michael said, his voice laced with enough sympathy for me to break. The moisture in my eyes pooled over and dripped down my cheeks. Shame flooded my face, and Michael’s strong grip gently tilted my chin his way. “You did the right thing.”
“You don’t know that,” I said, sniffing and trying not to lean into his hand as he cupped my face. “I just... my dad wants dinner tonight, and Cami did… what she did. I’m confused.”
“I probably don’t help either, huh?” he said, laughing and wiping away one of my tears. His mouth was so close to mine, and his breath tickled my skin, causing that weird swooping sensation in my gut to grow.
“No,” I admitted, feeling safe in the brief vulnerability. “You’re thrown in there too.”
He dropped his hand, and the only indication he heard what I said was a slight frown on his lips. It went away quick, and he flashed his grin my way. “Tell me what you want. You want a buddy? I’m game. You hoping to distract yourself with my body? I’ll do it. Want me to get lost? I’ll bitch about it, but I’ll listen. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
I could feel the strength and truth to his words, and I nodded, unsure what I was agreeing to. He seemed to understand though.
He patted my hand and slowly opened the door. “I’ll wait to hear from you, Fletcher.”
He shut the door, and without even realizing it, he seemed to give me the exact thing I needed. Time, space, and control. It was getting harder and harder tonotfall for him. And honestly, I was afraid it was already too late.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
