Page 50 of How Sweet It Is

“I thought you were a burglar or something. I said to text if you’re coming over.”

“I did text you.”

I pull out my phone. There’s one unread text telling me Micah’s on the way. “Oh.”

Micah tucks his legs under him. “Sorry, my dormmates are having a party tonight. I couldn’t stand all the people, so I came here.”

I get the broom out of the closet and start sweeping up the mess. I carefully remove the budding plant and place it in a mason jar with some of the dirt. I’ll have to get my neighbor a new flowerpot later. As I sweep, I give Micah the side-eye. “You’d rather be here, alone, than at a dorm party?”

“Yeah.”

I look around my really boring apartment. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Micah runs a hand over his long hair. “It was fun at first. But then all the people stuffed into our dorm room kinda made me go crazy. It was like I couldn’t breathe, and my skin got all itchy. People tried to talk to me, and my head just buzzed. I couldn’t speak. I had to get out of there.”

I stop sweeping to stare at him. “How long have you had this problem around people?”

“It’s been happening since I went to college. That’s why I came to talk to you at the bakery.” Micah looks at me like I haven’t been listening, and maybe he’s right.

I feel bad for thinking it was just normal going-away-from-home jitters. “You might have a social anxiety disorder. You should talk to a doctor about it.”

Micah exhales and shakes his head. “It’s just nerves. I can handle it.”

I dump the dustpan full of dirt and broken pottery and continue to clean up my mess. “Sounds like you tried to handle it and had to leave.”

Irritation crosses his features. “You know, college is a lot harder than I thought it would be, and I thought you of all people would understand.”

Ouch, that stung. I hold up a hand in surrender. “Sorry, man. I do get it. But I just think that?—”

“I don’t need you to think for me. I need a couch I can crash on.”

“Sure.” I dump the last of the dirt into my kitchen trash can then walk into the living room. “Just think about what I said. There’s help out there for what you’re dealing with.”

“I can deal with it just fine,” he says, grumbling.

“All right. Good night.”

I enter my bedroom and shut the door. Great. Now I have MicahandAmelia in my head. I just want to go to sleep.

CHAPTER 25

CLAIRE MATTHEWS — SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13

Istare at my computer screen, the numbers blurring together. I’ve been staring at the same spreadsheet for twenty minutes, and all I’ve managed to do is highlight three columns in yellow and type “miscellaneous” four different ways, none of which look like real words anymore.

I’m a terrible, rotten person, and I don’t deserve to live on the same planet as Levi. I drop my forehead to the desk and groan. Muffins. He made me apple-cinnamon-crumb muffins this morning. Gluten-free, perfect texture, just the right amount of cinnamon. Of course they were amazing. Becausehe’samazing.

And I’m a coward. I sigh, shove back from the desk, and head out front before I can spiral further into the pit of guilt and regret.

Kiera’s wiping down the front counter when I walk in. She stops and looks at me. “What happened?”

I’m a bit taken aback. “How do you know something happened?”

“Because you look like you kicked the cat, and Levi’s been moping around here all morning looking like a broken-hearted zombie. Spill the tea, girl.”

I sigh and pull an apron off the hook. “I kissed him.” I pause, rethinking it. “Well, he kissed me, but I kissed him right back.”

Kiera’s eyes widen, and her mouth forms a little O. “Ooh, last night? While you were watching Sky?”

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