I slowly shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense. If he’s upset that I was hurt, why would he look at me with such anger? You’re wrong.” There’s no way she’s right. Maybe she’s used to seeing the good in people. Maybe she just wants to see Micah in the best light. I don’t know. Either way, it’s clear her judgment is clouded.
We are very different people. She has the strength and skills to handle a bad judgment call. Me? Well, I made one bad decision, and I ended up in hell for seven years. I can’t afford to give anyone, but especially Micah, the benefit of the doubt.
As she pulls up to my building, I quickly unfasten my belt and hop out. “Thank you for driving me. I’ll see you next week at class.”
“Wait!” she calls. I debate pretending I didn’t hear her, but she’ll just chase me down. I turn around and raise an eyebrow. “Talk to Micah.” She urges. “I see you stewing, Hol. Promise me you’ll talk to him before you make any rash decisions.” She’s done this before. Tried to push me to make a promise. I value her friendship too much to lie, so I settle for a shake of my head. “I don’t have a plan to leave.”
“That’s not a promise.”
“No, but it’s the best you’re going to get. Now skedaddle. Get back home to your guy.” I shoo her away and paste a fake smile on my face. I stand there, smiling until she’s left the parking lot, then let it fall, exhaling heavily.
My whole body is tired, from my feet to my eyelids. I turn and drag myself into the rickety building, walking up to the third floor and letting myself into my small studio. I was so excited to move in here. After a year at the shelter, this felt like a palace. But every time I come home from Kade’s, my place seems smaller and dingier. It’s one small room, really, with a tiny bathroom tucked off the kitchen. I have a twin bed tucked in the little alcove near the bathroom and a minuscule living room beyond that. One small window facing the parking lot lets in light.
Thank goodness I didn’t let Micah come in when he drove me home after the night Brent attacked Becca. I don’t think I could bear his judgment. His scorn if he saw it. He may have grown up in a place like this, but he is so far removed from this kind of life now that I know that he’d see it as a hovel. He would look at my flowerpots and instead of thinking they’re pretty like I do, he’d think they were mismatched and ugly. Instead of seeing the love that I put into the crocheted blankets on the couch, he’d judge the threadbare cushions underneath. No, Micah doesn’t feel bad. It’s just that we are from such different worlds, we might as well be different species.
5
MICAH
I’ve been expecting the knock on the door. I’m surprised it took him this long, actually. I slide my bookmark into my new Reacher novel and put it carefully on the coffee table, then slowly open the door.
“Kade,” I say, waving him in. His print is still coded in my door. He knows he doesn’t need to wait to come in. He only started knocking when Becca moved into his place. Before that? He’d just walk the fuck in. Maybe now that he’s bumping uglies on the regular, he’s discovered boundaries? Who the fuck knows.
He moves to my large brown sectional and flops down with a sigh, waiting for me to join him before speaking. I detour to the fridge for a few beers. I think we’re going to need it for this conversation.
“Are you ok?” he asks quietly. And yep, we’re talking about feelings. Apparently, that’s something we do now. I’d blame it on us maturing, but honestly, Becca coming into the mix has a lot more to do with it.
I take a long pull on my beer before setting it down to answer. “Not really. Watching her flinch away from me fucking guts me. I shouldn’t have touched her.”
He leans forward on the couch, his beer dangling between his legs. “But you want to though, don’t you?”
I study him before answering, seeing only acceptance on his face. “Yes,” I admit. “More than I’ve wanted anything in my life.”I want her more than I want my next breath. “But it’s not gonna happen man. I know that. It’s better for her if I keep my distance.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Keeping your fucking distance?”
“What…mean?” I ask him.
“When you’re looking at her like you wish she’d just fucking disappear, man.”
I don’t understand what the fuck we’re talking about. “She’s the best part of my day. I never want her to go. Just seeing her, seeing that she’s ok makes everything better.”
Kade’s shaking his head at me. “You dumbfuck.” He says on a heavy breath. “If you want to keep her around, then why the hell are you mean mugging at her all the time? You’re doing it at work. You just did it in my fucking apartment. Why, man?”
I honestly don’t know what to say. I don’t think it’s been that bad, so I just shrug my shoulders and drink my beer. BB (Before Becca) the conversation would end here. But not anymore. Not since Kade caught fucking feelings.
The corner of his eyes narrow. His disappointment in me clear to see.“When you’re near her at work, what are you thinking? I mean, about her specifically.”
My ears are hot.“That she’s so small and beautiful. That I hate she was hurt by fuckwad Brent. That I’m too big and mean to be anywhere near her.”
Kade whistles through his teeth and settles back into the couch.“Jesus, man, you’re fucked. Lemme get this straight. You think she’s beautiful, you want her, and you don’t think you deserve her.”
“I wouldn’t use those words, but…yeah.”
He shakes his head and rubs his hand over the back of his head. “This is my fucking fault, man. I’m sorry.”
I cock my eyebrow at him. “Sorry?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Becca pointed out to me that you and I needed to have a conversation months ago, and I dropped the fucking ball.” His leg bounces, heel tapping against the floor. “When we were kids…you were so angry. About everything. You were like a live grenade and I never knew when the fuck you were going to go off.”
