The man who took my world by storm eleven years ago.
The man who set the bar for all the rest.
A man I just can’t seem to escape.
The universe doesn’t seem to know what to do with us—constantly bringing us together, only to rip us apart in ways that change me every time.
I don’t want to change anymore.
I’m content with this version of myself. I like being the decider of my fate and answering to no one but myself.
Micah knew the model: the girl who commanded runways and graced magazine covers but never felt in charge of her own life. But he doesn’t know the content creator: the woman who posts only what she wants when she wants. And he doesn’t know the business owner who commands boardrooms as well as she did runways—maybe even better.
And that’s why Micah can never be anything more than another secret in my vault, another thread of my past.
Rome, the best man, walks around the corner to join Micah, his hand landing on Nelle’s hip.
That’s one good thing to come out of Amerie and Arnold’s nuptials. I haven’t seen my girl this happy in a long time, and no one deserves that more. She’s always sacrificing her happiness for the good of others, and no one has benefitted from that more than Ri. I mean, I can’t think of anyone else who would agree to be her sister’s maid-of-honor when the groom is her ex-boyfriend. I can’t think of anyone else who—after all that—would put up with her sister’s nasty attitude toward her.
I love these girls. I’ve been friends with Ri, Nelle, and Evie since high school, but I’ve always felt that the blood in their veins runs in mine. Watching this wedding unfold has shown me, however, that I’ve allowed that connection to blind me to the harsh reality of what was happening within Ri and Nelle’s relationship. I was too focused on keeping my family together, failing to see that Janelle was suffering under the weight of that tether.
Rome pulled her from under that rock and for that, I’ll always be grateful to him.
“Just the man we needed,” Evie chuckles, slapping Micah’s shoulder. “You’re in good hands, boo.”
She ushers Rome and Nelle away before I have a chance to object.
“Umm, yeah, thanks.” I step aside, giving Micah a wide berth into my room.
His tall frame feels so imposing in my space. Everything about him is so familiar yet so foreign to me. His locs look the same as they have for years, but I don’t remember what they feel like between my fingers. He still smells of lavender and musk, but it’s been far too long since I’ve been alone with him, engulfed in the scent from this close.
It’s been that way by design and I need to remember that.
“You ready to go home?” he asks while hunched over my suitcase, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Oh, we’re doing small talk.
I hate small talk.
“Yep,” I offer.
His eyes float over to me, unamused.
Sighing, I step into my armor. “Are you?”
His fingers tug at the zipper of my bag with all the gentleness you’d expect from an artist. Every ounce of patience I don’t have exists within Micah. I probably would’ve given up and asked our concierge, Javier, for help getting a new suitcase at this point, but Micah doesn’t even flinch.He takes his sweet time slowly coaxing the zipper to bend to his will. And it does. Because most things do.
He pats the top of the suitcase before setting it upright. “Absolutely. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m more tired after spending two weeks on the beach than I am after getting a commission done.”
I force out a polite laugh when all I want to do is grab my bag and put some space between us. I’ll be damned if I let him know that any part of his presence unsettles me.
“Right. I’m tired too,” I say, dryly.
He makes another attempt at conversation, which I only half listen to in favor of checking the text that just came through on my phone.
Tanya: Love you, Dani Girl
Random declarations of love aren’t usually Tanya’s style of drama, but given that we haven’t spoken on the phone since I’ve been in Tulum and haven’t seen each other in a while due to her own traveling adventures, I guess she’s feeling sentimental.
