Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
He didn’t stop looking at me as though my flustered irritation delighted him. “I’m going to keep believing in you, whether you’re ready for it or not.”
I retreated a step, suddenly overheated and completely unsure what to do with the storm inside me. But when he left me alone, I very carefully tucked the supplies into my tote bag before going home.
Micah’s text came in the following morning while I was shoving my hair into a ponytail before work.
Micah: Hope you put those supplies to good use while I’m out of town this weekend.
I stared at the message longer than I should have.
The regular season had just started, and their first game was an away one. Which meant I wouldn’t see him for two whole days. And that bothered me more than it should.
I shoved my phone into my tote and told myself I was being ridiculous.
Missing Micah wasn’t part of the plan. I needed to keep my focus on Reese. My sweet sister, who was holding on by her fingertips in a house neither of us had ever felt safe in.
The plan was simple—save every dollar, work as many shifts as I could survive, keep my head down. Falling for the guy who owned the deli where I worked didn’t fit into it anywhere.
I sank onto the edge of my bed and pulled out my recipe notebook from where I’d left it under my mattress last night. When I flipped it open, a small square of yellow paper fluttered out and landed in my lap.
I traced the edge of the sticky note with my fingertip. I could have thrown it away. It would’ve been the smart thing to do.
Instead, I tucked it gently back between the pages, right beside the sketch of the lemon blueberry blondie bars I had drawn last night.
A quiet exhale slipped out of me.
As much as I kept telling myself nothing could change, I was starting to realize something terrifying. Somewhere in the middle of the rush and exhaustion of my life, Micah had slipped inside places he shouldn’t fit.
7
MICAH
The Tight Line was packed, comfortably crowded with a bunch of my teammates and their women, spread out at the two long high-top tables we’d pushed together near the front window. The late lunch hour sunlight streaked through the glass, glinting off silver napkin dispensers. Laughter rolled through the air, warm and familiar, and I watched them eat.
Specifically, I’d been keeping an eye on the three white ceramic dessert platters in the center of the table. The desserts that had been laid out on them were almost gone.
“What the fuck is in these?” Brady asked, lifting a gooey apple-crumble square and taking another massive bite. Crumbs clung to his jawline as he closed his eyes and groaned. His wife, Talia, giggled and brushed them away before snatching the rest of the treat from his hand and popping it in her mouth. Brady scowled at her and playfully slammed her up against his chest. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
That was my cue to leave.
Huck and Raiden were standing a few feet away, eating some of the mini cinnamon honey cakes. After swallowing the last bite, Huck licked the frosting from his fingers and hummed with appreciation. “Those taste like fall and…I don’t even know. My childhood, maybe.”
Raiden smirked. “Wait until you try the Sideline Bars.”
“I think I just got a taste of heaven,” Sylas muttered around a mouthful of blueberry blondie. “Micah. Marry the girl. I’ll officiate.”
Huck held up a half-eaten Sideline Bar like a ring. “If you don’t, I’m proposing to Rylin myself. I’m not gonna let this one get away.”
I looked up slowly, met his eyes, and let my stare go flat.
Huck froze mid-bite.
Sylas muffled a laugh, and Raiden snorted. “Don’t threaten his territory, man. I’m pretty sure Micah’s just waiting for the right moment to bite somebody.”
“Relax.” Huck laughed uneasily. “Just saying the girl’s got magic in her hands.”
Yeah. No shit.
I scanned the room, looking for dark honey hair and intense hazel eyes, but I didn’t see her. Her apron had been hanging by the kitchen door a few minutes ago, but now it was gone.
Setting my napkin on the table, I leaned over to Raiden. “Be right back.”
He raised a brow. “Tell her she’s a fucking genius.”
I nodded, already walking away.
The kitchen doors swung lightly as I pushed through, and it only took half a second to find her. Rylin stood just inside, her hand pressed to her chest like she was trying to hold in the sound of her own breath. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes were bright and glassy. The soft overhead lights glinted off her hair where it was twisted up into a messy knot. She wore a pale-yellow T-shirt that hugged her curves like a damn prayer and tight jeans that clung to her ass in a way that made my hands flex.