He blinks at me, signaling that he heard, still gulping down juice like his life depends on it. I chew on my lip, unable to tear my eyes away from his moving throat. I can’t help but think back to feeling those same lips wrapped around me. Which I definitely shouldn’t be doing while we’re standing in the yard.
I quickly look away to where Owen is persistently weaving around Micah’s ankles. I prop my hands on my hips and nudge the cat with one foot, trying to get him to back off. If he keeps this up, Micah will be covered with his shed fur and then we’ll have to get more efficient meds for his allergy.
Like all the other times I’ve tried to keep him away, the scruffy little devil stares at me with his green eyes, like he has the power of his fictional Navy Seal namesake from Olli’s romance novel.
Finally, Micah lowers the bottle. He gasps, as if surfacing from the deep waters of Lake Champlain. Now it’s not just his throat, but also his glistening lips and heaving chest that I’m staring at.
“You're not coming with?”
“Hmm—no, I…someone should be close by,” I hedge, nodding at the barn behind Micah. “I’ve never been into fireworks anyway.”
“If you say so.” Micah’s eyes twinkle, like he caught me in a lie.
It’s infuriating, but it works. My lips are moving again before I even realize I’m talking. “I was going to drive up the hill, watch it from there.”
“Oh, I…okay.” Micah’s shoulders pull up as if controlled by invisible strings. He raises the bottle again, though this time to toast to me before he empties it fully. “Have fun and thanks.”
I blink a few times, then realize how it must’ve sounded.
“I didn’t mean—do you wanna come? With me, I mean.”
Micah looks down at the cat curling around his feet. “What do you say, Owen? Wanna see some fireworks?”
“Uh, he wasn’t invited.” I’m not at all jealous of this scruffy bandit. Not one bit. At leastIcan be close to Micah without him needing an allergy spray and— I cut off those idiotic thoughts but quietly make a note to get back to my room and fetch that little bottle so Micah won’t be sneezing all evening. Because I justknowhe can’t say no to that silly cat, even if it wants to stick its tail right into his face.
“We’re in,” Micah finally announces, smiling brightly.
By the time we’re leaving the pastures behind, my truck trudging uphill, there’s an unexpected chill in the air. It rushes at me as soon as I open the car door, creeping under my shirt and settling there.
“Kinda cold, huh?” Micah walks around the hood of the truck, taking two short pumps of the allergy medication into his nose. Throughout the drive, Owen was curled up on his lap, stretching his head up every now and then to peek out the window, butotherwise content as if we had taken him on a drive every day of his kitten life. Now, though, he’s jumping out of the cabin and trailing through the tall grass, his orange tail sticking up like a particularly fluffy weed.
I watch him disappear in the grass as Micah’s warm hands rub over my arms, trying to warm me up—while he’s also in just a T-shirt.
“A-aren’t you cold?” I ask, grimacing when my teeth chatter. It’s probably just because I’ve gotten so used to the heat trapped in the city that I simply didn’t think about how cold it can get in the open country.
“No,” Micah says, staying as close as he can, while I walk around to the truck bed. However, his words are accompanied by a sharp intake of breath.
When I turn, I catch the shudder that goes through his shoulders and down his back. I bite my tongue not to laugh, but when Micah does a few small hops, I lose it. “Come here, you yeti,” I beckon, laughing as I unfold one blanket and wrap it over my shoulders, spreading another in the truck bed. Although the metal is hard to sit on, it’s almost cozy when I settle in. Definitely better than standing out in the cold.
“Yeti is an upgrade from ogre, at least,” Micah huffs, pulling himself up and shuffling up to sit down next to me.
“Yeah, but only just.” I chuckle, pulling the blanket around his shoulders as well. It's just barely large enough that it reaches.
For a moment, it's quiet, then we both shiver at the same time. I snort and lean forward to tuck the blanket more securely around him, feeling thwarted by his huge physique. But as soon as I lean back, the blanket stretches and almost slips free.
I grumble, trying to press closer, until Micah huffs and pulls me over his legs. We’re a tangle of blanket and limbs, clumsily arranging our bodies until I’m sitting between Micah’s thighs,my head tucked under his chin. His arms wrap around my stomach, holding me and the blanket firmly in place.
“That’s better,” Micah hums.
“Mhm.” Our shared body heat quickly warms the small space under the blanket. That's probably what has my heart doing tiny skips in my chest. Yes, feeling relieved and happy about being warm, nothing else.
The first fireworks crack and pop in the distance, but none rise high enough for us to see their explosions.Still, I keep looking at the night sky.
“Look! There's Cassiopeia,” I point out when I spot the familiar W-shape made of five stars dotting the velvety dark that spans over our heads.
Micah tips his head up, turning and finally leaning against my arm so he can see where I’m pointing. “Oh,” he says, his voice warmed by a smile, “I know that one asThe Queen.” He takes my wrist to draw invisible lines connecting the bright spots of light. “My dad said it looked just like a queen sitting on a throne.”
“That’s really cool. I also learned about the constellations from my dad.” I smile as I point out the next one, Ursa Minor, then its big brother, following one corner to the North Star. “When my sisters and I were younger, we would camp in the fields with our parents. But sometimes Dad would take just me, like this, in a truck. Whenever I went with him, we’d try to find as many constellations as we could.” I smile at the memory. “I guess it was his way of spending some alone time with me. Not always easy with four kids.”
