Page 18 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
I have never missed my penthouse more than I do right now. And maybe it’s because this conversation is stirring up all of the mess of the last six months that led me to this point, but I’m not even a little bit nice when I say, “That’s probably because Daddy is funding it all for you, Princess.”
For the first time since I met her, her smile drops, and it feels like I punched her in the face instead of making a comment. I’ve never wanted to be a mean person, and even though I’m generally not the friendliest man in the world, I don’t think I’ve ever thrown a remark that cut quite so deep as that one seems to have done.
This is it. This is rock bottom. I rub my chest, ducking my head, and hope the sidewalk swallows me whole.
“You looked into me,” she says. There’s not as much hurt in her voice as in her expression, but it’s there. “And clearly you’ve made some assumptions.”
“That’s all they are.” I don’t bother looking up. “Assumptions. I shouldn’t have—”
“My dad would love to pay for my apartment, but I don’t let him. Do you know why?”
The question pulls my gaze upward until I meet her eyes. By some miracle, her smile is back, and I know I don’t deserve that smile.
“My brother is Houston Briggs,” she says, as if I didn’t already know that. “My other brother? He’s a PI. Probably the best in the state. My sister is a teacher and changes lives every day. And that’s just on one half of my family. I’m not going to get into the other side, but my half siblings are all extremely successful and wealthy and know their value. Then there’s me.”
Whatever point she’s trying to make, she’s going to be right, but admitting that to myself isn’t making me feel any better. Besides, I want to know what she’s going to say, so I’m hanging on her every word even though I really need to get back to the office.
Stepping closer and grabbing my arm, Micah gazes at me with those soft blue eyes of hers, without a clue of how much she throws me every time she gets this close. “I’m the baby of the family. On both sides. And I refuse to be anything less than they are, so I refuse to let anyone help me with something I am capable of doing myself, no matter how hard it is.”
“You are inspiring.” My words come out breathlessly, and I almost don’t care. Almost. I’m better than this, and once upon a time I had enough confidence to match hers. It’s incredible how quickly things can change, and I’ve probably wallowed enough that my irritability and jealousy are more childish than justified. “I’m sorry, Micah.” I hope she knows I mean that, though I have no way to tell because her smile could mean any number of things.
“What were you saying about your roommate and bad energy?”
We’re back to that? “He’s very soul-centered,” I say, which sounds relatively neutral. Half of what he says is nonsense, but the other half I swear he’s more intuitive than the average person and sees more than he should. This from a guy who doesn’t believe in zippers because they ‘look shifty.’
Micah gives me a smile. “He sounds nice.” And then she turns, pressing the button to change the crosswalk to green.
“Micah, will you please let me give you a ride?”
She looks at me like I’ve just asked her for the biggest favor. Is a ride with me really that awful? Yes. I know it is.Idon’t even like my own company, so I have no idea why she would want to spend any time with me that isn’t required by her job.
“Fine,” she says with a heavy sigh, and then she shoves the box of leftovers into my hands as she passes by on the way to my car.
“Don’t sound so excited,” I mutter. But she’s smiling as she leans against the passenger door, which I should have expected.
When I unlock and open the door for her, she stands there for a moment instead of climbing inside. I would think she was waiting for something if she didn’t have a little smirk shifting the nature of her smile. “You should really learn not to take life so seriously,” she tells me, like I have ever once asked her for advice.
I’m going to have a headache from stopping myself from rolling my eyes before this day is through. “I will take that under consideration.” I set the catering box on the backseat and slip into the driver’s side.
I have barely pulled out of the parking lot before Micah twists to face me and says, “Would you rather be stuck eating salad for lunch the rest of your life and never breakfast oronlyget to eat breakfast and never lunch or dinner?”
I groan. “I’m going to regret giving you this ride, aren’t I?” Partly because the question is convoluted and ridiculous but mostly because she smells like vanilla and jasmine. The combination has me wanting to breathe in deep and get lightheaded.
“No one said you have to answer.”
She’s sort of right, but she’s also wrong. Because she’s the one who asked it, the part of me that is inexplicably drawn to her wants to do anything to keep that smile on her face. It doesn’t matter if she’s prone to smiling no matter what I do; I won’t give her a reason not to.
“Just know,” she adds, “I reallywantyou to answer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to figure you out, Fischer.”
It’s fifteen minutes to Ember, but with the lunchtime traffic, it’ll probably take an extra ten to get to her office. Micah is going to use every single one of those minutes to dig, and I shouldn’t let her. The more questions she asks, the closer she’ll get to the truth that is always one step behind me.
Still, this question is innocent enough. “Salad,” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
She gasps. “You would give up breakfast?”
