Page 71 of Never Been Shipped

“That’s not why I would’ve been nervous.” She could hear him swallowing in the dark, and his voice sounded a little ragged, like maybe he was nervous even now. She thought about waking up to find him practicing that song, wanting to make sure every tiny thing was right, and she squeezed his forearms, trying to let him know that it would be okay. “What’s the song we would’ve slow-danced to?”

“Well, it would have to be Elvis, if you were wearing the suit.” She took a minute before she answered, like she had to think about it, but it was just for show. She’d known the song the minute he’d asked the question. “ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ ”

He stroked her cheek. “Ah, Micah. I’m no fool, and I never rush into anything. I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve years old.”

Her entire chest felt tight. Her first instinct was to deny his words, wanting to tell him all the ways that wasn’t possible. He onlythoughthe was in love with her. He loved her as a friend, maybe, which was no revelation—there had always been love between them. She knew he’d had a crush on her at various points, she’d crushed on him at other points, but it had never gone beyond that because they knew it couldn’t. Not without risking the friendship, which Micah would protect at all costs. It was too important.

But she also knew immediately that he meant what he’d said, that it was the truest thing he’d ever said to her. Hearing him speak the words aloud felt simultaneously like the biggest surprise and like the most beautiful, inevitable thing.

“Micah Presley, no relation,” he said. “I think I was half-gone for you the minute you introduced yourself. And then sometimes I think I fell the rest of the way two weeks later, when I finally got up the nerve to talk to you and you just rolled with it like no time had passed at all in between. You’ve always known yourself in this really special way, in this way that invites other people in. You’re so brave, and you makemebrave.”

She shook her head, wanting to refute all of that. Hadn’t he been listening? She’d spent the past few years hiding out, licking her wounds, making fuckingbraceletsinstead of making music, not wanting to face anyone, least of all him. She was the opposite of brave.

“You are,” he said, his hands warm and strong on either side of her face. “I know it’s been hard, since the band broke up. And I know that everything that came afterward did a number on you. But I have no doubt that, when you’re ready, you can do whatever the fuck you want. You’ve always been able to. And I have no doubt that whatever that is, it’s going to be great. You have such power, in the way you feel things, in the way you can make other people feel them, too—with your lyrics, with your voice, with who you are.”

It was a good thing it was so dark, because Micah thought that was the only thing saving her from completely losing it, from wanting to hide her face or run away, not wanting to let John hold her and tell her all these things she felt she didn’t deserve to hear. That sheneededto hear.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand trailing down her jaw. “That’s why the world fell in love with you in ElectricOh!,” he said. “But I fell in love with you before that, because you’ve always been the person I most want to talk to, I most want to make laugh, who can makemelaugh, who makes me feel like no matter what else happens there’s always a safe place to go back to, and that safe place is you.”

She had so much she wanted to say, so much that his words stirred up. But there was a lump in her throat and no matter what he’d said, she didn’t know that she was brave enough to say any of it. She didn’t know that she knew how.

So instead she tugged him down to her, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth that was a little clumsy, starting somewhere closer to his chin before he tilted his face to meet her. She felt a sob rising up, but she swallowed it back down, her hands greedy as she clutched the bunched muscles at his shoulders. The action caused a slight throb in her injured knuckles, but she ignored it, not wanting to stop touching him. His hand was on her breast then, giving it a squeeze, dragging his fingertips over the tight bud of her nipple. It seemed like a waste, that they hadn’t been touching each other like this all those years.

“John,” she said.“John.”

She was asking for something, but she didn’t even know what it was. She didn’t know what more he could give her than he’d already given.

He reached down, his hand between her legs as he found that pulse that was begging for its own release. He rubbed her clit in slow, patient circles, his breath hot on her cheek as he kissed her jaw.

“You have no idea what this does to me,” he said. “Just touching you like this, making you come apart like this.”

Shewantedto come apart, could feel her body inching toward it, but then every time she got close he backed off, stroking another part of her until she was angling her hips toward him, trying to get him to touch her in the way she most craved.

He slid a finger inside her, and she made a choked sound in the back of her throat, grabbing his forearm to hold his hand there. She didn’t want him to move just yet, she didn’t know if she could take it—she just wanted to feel him inside her body, wanted to know that he was touching her in the most intimate way possible.

Eventually she relaxed her grip, and he started working her with his finger before he added another, and then another. When he pushed against her clit with his thumb, she let out a low, keening sound that didn’t even sound like it came from her.

“I love stretching you out like this,” he said. “I could spend hours with my fingers inside you, just feeling how wet you are, how you tighten around me.”

Yes, she tried to say, but it came out more like a moan. When he started fucking her with his fingers, she brought her knees up to her chest, wanting to give him the most access possible. Her hands were on his biceps, his back, his shoulders, his throat, until he gave a strangled grunt that made her drop her hands, worried she’d hurt him somehow.

“No,” he said. “Do it again, and squeeze.”

She brought her hand up, feeling the ridge of his Adam’s apple under her thumb, pressing her fingers into the hollow at the base of his throat. And then she wrapped her fingers aroundhim and did exactly as he’d asked, applying enough pressure that she knew he’d feel it, not enough that it would risk cutting off his breath.

“Harder.”

She clenched her fingers around him, rewarded by the shudder that went through his body, the way his hand briefly paused in its ministrations inside her, as if he lost focus for a moment. He had such excellent focus, and she loved to wreck it. But it was almost like he wanted to punish her for that, because then he withdrew his hand entirely, leaving her feeling empty and wanting.

“Fuck, Micah,” he said, rubbing those agonizingly slow circles over her clit again. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He’d moved now so he was farther away, out of her reach, but to where he’d have a perfect view of everything he was doing to her if only there was any light. She was grateful for the darkness, grateful that he couldn’t see the way she was so open and vulnerable to him. Even knowing he was so close made her legs tremble, to where she almost couldn’t hold them up anymore.

“Please,” she said. “Please fuck me. I can’t take it.”

He flipped her over, pulling her by the hips until she was flush against him. The move was so unexpected that she still hadn’t fully recovered from it when she felt him push inside her. She was already on the edge from everything he’d put her through up until that point, but he held her in place, like he knew that any movement would make her fall off the cliff.

He brushed her hair off her neck, leaning over to press a kiss there. “You can take it,” he said. “Youwilltake it. You’ll come for me, won’t you?”

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