Micah’s eyes crawl over me like insects. “You look…softer,” he says, lips curling. “Playing the wholesome girlfriend now? That’s new.” He flicks at my hoodie sleeve. “Haynes must be desperate if he’s settling for this covered-up version. What happened to those tight little tops you used to pour yourself into? The ones that made your tits look like they were begging to be grabbed?”
My nails break skin in my palms. “I’m not doing this with you.”
He huffs a laugh, breath hot and sour. “Like you ever had a say in what we did.”
The words land like knuckles to my temple. The hallway spins, edges blurring.
No.
No, not here.
I anchor myself against the cold wall. My breathing ragged against the door behind me. “Get out of my face,” I manage.
He steps closer, close enough that I can smell last night’swhiskey seeping through his pores. He’s not touching me, but he has me cornered, trapped, like an animal waiting for the killing blow.
Will he grab me?
Shove me?
Force his hands where they don’t belong?
Make me remember?
“I swear to Christ, Micah, put one finger on me and I’ll scream until security drags you out by your fucking throat.”
He chuckles, lips nearly brushing my ear. “Honey, you’re in my house now. You really think anyone here will listen to you? Believe you?” He laughs deep and throaty and I hate it. “You really think this quarterback’s different? They’re all animals in heat, Sutton. You’re just fresh meat.”
My throat closes. “No, that was just you. Shepherd is nothing like?—”
“Please,” Micah hisses, voice like a blade. “A guy like that? He sees you as a wet hole to dump himself into after a game. Something tight to pound until he feels like a man again.” He cocks his head, studying my face, his eyes narrowing. “What was it I used to call you? Oh, right…perfectly fuckable.”
Each word lands like acid on exposed skin.
“Does he know about us?” His breath is hot on my neck. “About how you used to beg?”
“There was never an us,” I spit. “And if there was begging, it was to get you to stop.”
“So, he doesn’t know how I broke you in? How I made you my little cum-hungry bitch until you learned to say thank you?”
The air leaves my lungs in a violent rush. My vision tunnels, narrowing to Micah’s sneering face. His words scrape against my skin like rusty nails, tearing open scars I’ve spent years trying to heal.
“Get away from me,” I whisper, but the words come out weak, pathetic. Just like before. Just like always.
“You think he respects you?” Micah presses closer, invading every inch of space around me. “You think he sees anything but an easy fuck? Someone to service him after games? That’s all you’ve ever been good for, Sutton. All you’ll ever be?—”
The exam room door swings open behind me, and I nearly collapse with relief.
“Sutton?” Shepherd’s voice cuts through the fog of panic clouding my brain. “Everything okay out here?”
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his expression shifting from tired to concerned to something darker as his eyes move from my face to Micah.
“Everything’s fine,” I say quickly, stepping toward Shepherd and away from Micah. My voice sounds strange even to my own ears. Too high. Too tight. Too brittle.
Shepherd moves immediately to my side, his body positioning itself between me and Micah with such casual precision it almost looks accidental. But I know better. I feel the tension radiating from him, the protective energy that surrounds me like a shield.
“Brannigan,” Shepherd says, his voice neutral but with an edge I’ve never heard before. “Something I can help you with?”
Micah’s smile shifts into a calculated grin as he takes a small step back. “Just catching up with an old friend, Haynes. No need to get territorial.”
