Page 43 of Pretty Heartache

Tell me you’re mine, Addy.

Micah drops the shovel on a loud grunt. It vibrates from his broad, solid chest.

Tell me you’re my good girl.

My orgasm slams into my body, and I shudder and vibrate, moaning as I reach the top of it, squeezing my eyes shut. The feeling is so intense, I fall forward, catching myself on the window. My hand slaps against the glass.

My eyes snap open.

Micah is staring directly at me.

Down below, in the garden, he’s watching me. The shovel lays at his feet. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, his body on full display.

His torn, dirt-covered jeans rest just above the dents of his perfectly sculpted hip bones. It’s a body that should be considered illegal for a man in his mid-thirties.

Solid as a statue, he stares up at me with a hardened expression. His jaw ticks as his dark brown eyebrows set in a firm line above his narrowed eyes. His arms are at his sides, but his hands are noticeably clenched into tight fists.

I gasp, the breath catching in my throat. I bring both my arms to my chest and spin around, hiding behind the safety of the curtain. I lay back against the wall and tip my head back, squeezing my eyes shut.

I want to die of embarrassment.

I wonder how much Micah heard... orsaw.

I cover my eyes with my hand and sink to the floor. My wet hair clings to my shoulders, but my body is still humming from my orgasm. I haven’t been with anyone in such a long time. I tell myself I only touched myself because I’m desperate for touch. I’m desperate tofeel. Anything. Something. Something to remind me I haven’t lost all sense of awareness. Something to remind me that my heart isn’t completely shut off.

Maddox made it easy to fall for him, but I was numb. With the way I’m feeling now, after simply touching myself to the thought of Micah, I hadn’t realized how numb I’d become. My heart jolted to life watching him in the garden just then, and although we argued yesterday, and I was furious with him for what he said, I was grateful. Grateful because my heart felt more than just numb.

This was proof. Proof I’m not completely unfeeling.

But I’m lying to myself if I think this was innocent. There’s meaning to what I’ve done. The relationship between Micah and me has shifted. He made that clear yesterday when he didn’t answer my dare for him to stop.

The problem is, I know I should be embarrassed. I just finger-fucked myself while watching my brother’s best friend work in the garden.

But I’m not embarrassed. The truth is, I want it to happen again.

Only next time, I want what I know I can’t have.

I want it with him.

THIRTEEN

Adeline is curled up on the sofa when I step into the living room. Her long legs are tucked under her, a throw blanket draped over her lap. The heat has only worsened this week, reaching new records for this early in the summer, but the air conditioning is on full blast. Thankfully, I had a technician come out and replace the entire system before the heat made its way to the Northeast.

Addy is scrolling through her phone while an investigative crime documentary plays in the background—something about a husband who found his wife lying in a pool of blood in their basement.

I catch her attention when I sit in the chair opposite the sofa, and she looks up from her phone. Her eyes drop to my clothes.

“Can I be honest?” she asks, a little smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

“Aren’t you always?” I toss back.

She shrugs. “I try to be.” She points to my chest. “Honestly, I forgot what you look like in a suit. It’s a little odd.”

“Bad odd or good odd?” I raise my eyebrows.

She considers me a moment and clears her throat. “Good.”

My heart flutters at the sight of her sitting here in my house, comfortable. Months ago, this place was a ghost house, coveredin cobwebs and dust, only breathing through the memories that had been left behind by the family who sold it, and the ones I refused to create. Now, this house is breathing with life. The walls are painted a warm cream color. The floor is restored to a rich, hardwood brown. There are small bits of Adeline littered throughout the living room; decorations I’ve seen buried in boxes or left in the old hutch between the living and dining room. Pieces that have always been here but forced to stay hidden.

---