Page 40 of Inevitable

I wondered if Micah ever thought about our night together at UNT, if he ever let himself remember how perfect it had felt being together. It was the most passionate, freeing night of my life, and I had been electrified with every brush of his skin against mine. That night stokedthe flame that had always burned between us, hidden and neglected. I had been powerless against the wildfire that had raged through me, scorching the very foundation of who I was. I imagined what it would have been like to connect even further, to bury myself inside him completely until we were melded together, no longer separate beings, but united as one. The idea had blood rushing down to my cock, eager and willing to be deep inside Micah's hot, tight hole.

Ainsley pressed back into my groin, feeling the beginning of my erection as thoughts of Micah swam through my brain. She must've thought the arousal was for her, so she pivoted, wrapping her arms around my neck and crushing her mouth to mine. I was so lost in my memories and tipsy from the booze that it took me half a minute before I was cognizant of who I was kissing just then.

When I had snapped back to reality, I pushed her away from me and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What the fuck, Ainsley?” I growled, grimacing at the taste of her on my lips. Her eyes lit up with fire, but I didn't give her a chance to cause a scene. I shoved my way off the dance floor, attempting to make it to the stairs and escape to the second floor to have a few minutes alone.

Disgusted with what happened, I stomped up the stairs and whipped out my phone. I couldn't get Micah out of my head, and the booze was tampering with my judgment. I know he asked for a little space, but I just wanted to talk to him. I wanted to see if he'd let me come by and spend time with him. We could fucking stare at each other for two hours for all I cared as long as I was with him. I needed his sass, his warmth, his laughter, and his calming presence to temper the storm in my mind.

I called him twice, but got no answer. Frustrated, I took the opportunity to use the bathroom while it was free, splashing cold water on my face afterwards to cool myself off and create the illusion of sobriety. I texted Micah asking if he was free right then, but it went unread.Fuck it, I'll just head over there and see if he'll let me in. He wouldn't turn me away, right? He couldn't be that sick of me…

I turned off the lights to the bathroom and headed for the stairs when the bedroom door to my right swung open, and a guy waltzed out while zipping up the front of his pants.At least someone's having fun tonight.

The comment ran dryly through my head before it registered who I was looking at. Dark curls and intense blue eyes on a chiseled face greeted me, and I almost staggered back in shock. What the fuck was Kit doing here stumbling out of a frat house room looking like he just got some? Was he fucking cheating on Micah? If I found out he was stepping out on my best friend, I would rearrange his faceso effectively, he'd need dental records to be identified. I may have despised him because he was dating my guy, but Micah didn't deserve that shit one fucking bit.

“Kit? The fuck are you doing here?” I asked accusatorially, but Kit merely smirked at me and lazily did up his belt.

I took a menacing step toward him, ready and prepared to lay him out when a second man lurched out from the room behind him.

All the blood in my body drained away and the world tilted under my feet. I felt nothing but ice shoot up my spine and needles pricked at my extremities with an unpleasant awareness. Turbulence hit my brain and I was having trouble sucking in air, feeling like I was close to hyperventilating.

Micah looked at me with wide, guilt-ridden eyes and his mouth hanging open as if he were trying to form words that were nowhere to be found.

I said nothing. I just spun on my heel and bounded down the stairs, scarcely hearing the pleas of my best friend that followed me down. I couldn't listen. There was a singular thought stabbing at my brain like an icepick, relentless and aggressive.

Micah had told me he was a virgin…he was a virgin when we were together…I guess that changed tonight.

I barely made it two steps down the front stoop before I emptied my stomach violently onto the grass.

CHAPTER 16

Micah

Ithought I was a resilient person. I had braved being in love with an oblivious, straight guy for several years, and wrestled with being his best friend while harboring my secret feelings. I had pushed through the knowledge that he would fuck and be with other girls romantically while I held a torch for him, and I had forced myself to have the faintest hint of a love life that I didn't want without him. I had endured the pain when he told me he had no recollection of our lustful night together, and I had survived the reveal of his hidden girlfriend. I had faith I would be able to live with the idea that Bash would eventually marry Ainsley, and I prayed I would have the strength to come out of all of that intact.

I was so goddamn, dreadfully wrong that I couldn't imagine ever finding my way back to being right.

I had thought the worst part of mine and Bash's ill-fated love story would have been when he expressed in the most simple of terms that he was not in love with me like I was with him. It shredded me, gutted my insides, and I spent the night crying on and off after Rhys helped me to bed. However, I thought I was more than strong enough to withstand the aftermath and continue on as friends. Turns out, that was horrifically wishful thinking.

I woke up the next morning with gritty, swollen eyes and a sore body, but other than that I felt absolutely nothing. No pain, no anguish, no happiness, no relief. There was no calm or turmoil. There was just…blankness, as if the faucet to my emotions was turned off and there wasn't a single drop getting through.

I guess it qualified as shock. For so long, my mind and heart had been in overdrive, desperately trying to make sense of mine and Bash's feelings and figure out how to keep it all in balance. Now, it had all come crashing down on me and in an act of self-preservation, my heart just ceased to work. It pumped blood through my body to keep me alive, but there was an impenetrable wall around it that kept anything from getting in or out. That's how I would survive all of this: absolute and utter detachment.

It took a couple of days to acclimate to the weird, emotional paralysis that had settled over me before I could think about contacting Bash. It was completely foreign to not feel anything while pulling up his number, seeing his gray text bubbles pop up, or reading his response. His name on my phone used to have the uncanny ability to draw out a smile even on the shittiest days, but now it was met with cold emptiness.

Weeks went by and I had been able to be around Bash a few times, but I forced every single moment of the interaction so he wouldn't become suspicious of my situational sociopathy. He wasn't fooled entirely. He knew things were off between us, but he never pressed the issue and tried to pass the time with me pleasantly.Sweet Bash…he's trying so hard to make things normal again, but there is no more normal for us.He should just accept it like I'm having to. Our friendship won't ever look the same again because I ruined it. I ruin everything.

Over the next month, I sank further into the dark void left behind when our friendship imploded. It didn't really qualify as depression to me because I assumed you'd have to feel something for it to count. I was still giving off “Pod Person” vibes well into October, and Rhys had become extremely worried. I didn't know why. As far as I was concerned, this was the best case scenario because I wasn't distraught and crying into a tub of ice cream over my hopeless future with Bash. Feeling nothing was better than feeling everything.

Rhys confronted me the day before Halloween about my “freaky ass behavior” and to be honest, I was more thrown by his uncharacteristic use of profanity than his guts to call me out. Rhys might have seemed sweet and nerdy, but he had a fire in him that came out when provoked. It was one of the things I appreciated most about him, but not that day.

He had charged into the living room where I was lounging on the couch watching some true crime documentary I was only half paying attention to.

“Okay, that's it. I can't take it anymore,” Rhys said, irritated for the first time since I'd known him. “You have gone so far over the edgeof pathetic that I can't watch it anymore. I know Bash broke your heart. I am not saying that it doesn't suck because it does. Massively. However, you cannot stop living your life and shutting down just because you can't have the man you want. You still have him! Bash is still your best friend, and he even begged you to promise that this wouldn't change you guys! Yet all you've done for almost a month is float around like a freaking ghost, and it's not like you! This is notyou, Micah!” he pleaded with me, his voice raising with each sentence he spat out at me.

All I could do was stare at him. I heard his words, I saw the worry and angst on his face, but it didn't break through anything surface level. I knew what pre-void Micah would have said, so I put on the same act that I had for weeks.

I put on my best contrite face and tried to look genuinely upset. “I know…I'm really sorry I haven't been myself lately. I just need time to get back to normal and figure things out, you know?”

Rhys heard what I was selling, but he didn't buy my shit.

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