Page 50 of Pretty Heartache

His fingers twist and tangle through my wet hair while he slips his other hand down the back of my leggings and across my skin before his entire palm covers one of my bare ass cheeks. He massages me, and the ends of his fingers play at the space between my thighs from behind. My breath catches in my throat, wanting him to keep going. I moan as I roll to stand on my toes. He growls against my mouth, lapping his tongue against mine.

“Touch me,” I breathe. “Please, touch me.”

Hungrily, he squeezes my soft flesh, pulling me toward him. My pussy tingles, hoping he doesn’t end this. I arch my back, and my hardened nipples peak through my wet T-shirt, ghosting across Micah’s abs.

He moves his other hand from my hair to the side of my face. Gripping me, he tilts my face up to meet his.

I wrap my hand around his neck, pulling him down as I stand on my toes. He tastes of rain, mint, and heat. Keeping his hand inside my wet leggings, he slips around my hip and finds my pussy. His fingertips slide through my slit, finding my equally soaking wet clit, and he presses his finger to it.

“Fuck,” he gasps between kisses, then he starts to move his finger in circles, and another moan falls from my mouth. He rips away from me, stealing the air from my lungs with him. “We can’t.”

I catch my breath, my mind frantic. My body immediately feels his absence. My heart beats erratically, and I want to cry. I want to cry because what we just did is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. He lifted me into the air before allowing me to fall like an anvil from the sky. I crash and burn.

“Why?” I ask, biting back the tears threatening to come. I don’t want them to spill. I don’t want Micah to see how much his rejection stings. “Why can’t we do this?”

“I told you. I’m Archer’s best friend.”

“I don’t fucking care about Archer,” I blurt out, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I press both of my hands to my hot cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No,” Micah says, backing away. The growing distance between us stings, pouring salt in the already open wound. “I know what you meant.”

The rain has slowed now. What was once sheets of rain is now only a light sprinkling. The clouds above are still heavy, but the sun and clear blue skies are breaking out in the distance.

“I’m not good for you.”

My chin wobbles as I hold back my tears. “Sounds like you’re trying to come up with excuses or reasons to push me away. To fight this.”

“You don’t know me, Addy. Not really.”

“And you think you know me so well? Enough to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong?” I ask, my heart fracturing. “You have no idea what I’ve been through these past three years or even what my childhood was like. You have no idea what my relationship with Archer is like. You think you know based on only the sidehe’stold you. But everyone wears masks, Micah. We all become experts in hiding the truth. Archer included.”

Micah doesn’t answer. His eyes stare into mine, searching for the truth. I’ve already shared more than I have my entire life. I’ve never opened up to anyone about the hard truth of my family dynamic. My childhood was centered around wearing a mask to bury the truth. Years were spent conditioning me to stay silent. But as the saying goes, old habits die hard.

I look into Micah’s eyes, knowing there is more to what he means when he says I don’t know him the way I think I do.

“You’re right.” He swallows, his neck bobbing with nerves. “Everyone wears masks. Including me.”

“Are you talking about when you went to prison?”

His eyes widen and his jaw ticks. He looks off into the distance, even though he’s still standing in front of me, close enough to touch. I don’t move, though, instead curling my hands into fists, respecting his decision in the moment to keep space between us. I push through the pain of his rejection, knowing, deep down, he wants this. He just doesn’t know how he can cope when his demons are as dark as mine.

“I know what happened,” I tell him, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Nerves bundle inside me. I wish I could reach out to him and place my hand around his. “I read about you going to prison. The judge was harsh on you. But I also know that man isn’t who you are anymore. I can see that. I don’t judge you based off what’s happened in the past. A few bad decisions don’t make up who you truly are.”

His far-off look softens, his defenses crumbling, but the wall remains. It may be small, but it’s still there, standing between us.

“It doesn’t matter what you think you might know.” He finally turns back to me, his face filled with pain. “This can’t happen, Adeline. Ever.”

FIFTEEN

I can still taste Adeline in my mouth.

It’s been three days since I kissed her, and the sensation of her mouth still lingers. I imagine her legs wrapped around me, and me buried inside her, fucking her sweet cunt. I haven’t been laid in months, so when I step into the shower and jerk off with her strawberry-scented body wash coating my dick, I chalk it up to that simple fact.

After I watch my cum swirl down the drain, I lather myself up with my own body wash, hoping it will erase the scent of Adeline on me.

When I step out of the shower and get dressed, I check my phone to find a missed call from Archer. He’s left a message, so I dial my voicemail, type in my passcode, and sit at the edge of my bed, slipping on a pair of socks.

“Hey, man,” Archer breathes into the phone, his voice low and sad.

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