Page 16 of Robbin’ the Rich

“Oh my god,” I muttered into my drink.

Belle was practically vibrating now. “This is the best day of my life.”

Across the room, Micah glanced over again. Zella waved enthusiastically at him. I nearly died on the spot.

“Oh good,” I said dryly. “Now he knows we’re talking about him like middle schoolers.”

Micah laughed from the stage despite being halfway through a song. The bastard looked pleased with himself too, which only made him hotter.

“You like him,” Zella said brightly.

“I find him temporarily interesting.”

“You invited him home,” Zella said.

Belle pointed toward the stage dramatically. “He almost walked into his mic stand because you looked at him.”

That... might’ve been true actually.

The rest of the set passed in a blur of music, heated glances, and my teammates treating me like a live reality show.

Micah somehow got more attractive the longer he played. Relaxed and confident beneath the lights, smiling easily between songs while his fingers moved across the strings with practiced ease.

By the final song, I was painfully aware of him. I was hypnotized by the shape of his hands. Sweat dampened the collar of his shirt. The tattoo disappeared beneath his sleeve. He kept looking at me like he already knew exactly how tonight was going to end.

The set finally ended to loud cheers and scattered applause while the band started packing equipment.

Belle bumped my shoulder. “Go get your priest.”

“You are never saying that sentence again.”

“No promises.”

I slid off my stool and headed toward the stage area while my friends made deeply immature noises behind me.

Micah spotted me immediately. His entire face softened. Which was—nope. Not thinking about that right now.

“You survived,” I said as he stepped closer.

“Barely. You’re very distracting.”

“You heading out?” he asked.

“Yeah. I was gonna call an Uber.”

Micah shook his head immediately. “No need. I drove.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And how drunk are you, Father?”

He grinned. “Two beers over four hours. I’m tragically responsible.”

“Hm.”

“What about you? Are you drunk?”

“Nope, I was a little too distracted to drink tonight.”

“A sober one-night stand,” he said thoughtfully. “Very progressive of us.”