Page 26 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 17

Later, when the shock of it has worn off, all I’m left with is gut-wrenching embarrassment. I don’t know exactly who had been there to see it happen, who’d made the comments, or even how I’d tripped in the first place. And just my luck to have Alora right there to witness it all. That girl is becoming the bane of my existence.

For the millionth time in the last hour since Max brought me to the library, my cheeks flame red. I take a deep breath, thankful to be reshelving books in the stacks at the far end of the library. No one ever comes back here, and I can be alone with my thoughts.

With my seemingly unending mortification.

Trying to focus on the mindless work I usually find soothing, my brain can’t seem to do anything but flash images before my eyes of me facedown on the floor with my ass in the air.

Everyone saw it happen. Everyone is talking about me and my freaking Baby Yoda panties, which aren’t Baby Yoda panties because that’s not even Baby Yoda, dammit. A low, drawn-out sound meets my ears and, belatedly, I realize it’s me—groaning.

I huff out a breath and pull my earbuds out of my skirt pocket, plug them into my phone, and select an upbeat playlist in an attempt to distract myself with some music. As I push play, I see a notification of a couple of texts … from Daph’s Dream Dick. My eyes get big. Shit. Seriously?

I quickly glance around to make sure no one is looking over my shoulder, which is silly because I’m in the stacks. Only library staff is ever back here, so without further worry, I tap the screen and open the text thread. Jeez, I still can’t believe he had the nerve to put that nickname into my phone.

I also can’t believe I hadn’t immediately changed it, but that’s a whole different issue. There’s maybe a teensy tiny part of me that likes it being there. It feels … naughty. Very un-Daphne.

Daph’s Dream Dick:Hey.

Daph’s Dream Dick:I wanted to check on you.

Check on me?I shake my head. Whatever. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now—especially not Micah. Shaking my head, I shove my phone into my pocket and get to work.

A few minutes later, a hand lands on my shoulder, causing me to shriek. The book I was shelving flies out of my hands and hits the floor. I whirl around toward whoever is behind me and run smack into a solid torso. For a moment, we’re a wild tangle of limbs, trying to maintain balance, and my heart jumps up into my throat at the contact.

Micah says something I can’t hear over the music in my ears as he grips my shoulders and steadies me.

I yank my earbuds out and shove them in my pocket. “What?”

“I said sorry.” He squats down to pick up the book I dropped and hands it back to me with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I hold the book to my chest for a few seconds, blinking up at him before I turn and put it in the appropriate spot on the shelf. That done, I exhale sharply. He’s clearly got some reason for being here, but I have no idea what it is. Convincing myself that I’m ready to deal with him, I spin back around. “Is there something I can help you with, Micah?”

He stands, unmoving, studying my face while blood rushes to my cheeks. His lips twist a bit. Tell me he’s not here to make fun of me. Because no doubt, he’d seen the whole cringe-worthy incident in the hallway, everything from me falling down with my skirt flipped up to the Child from The Mandalorian smiling up at everyone from my panties. Heat races through my body at the thought of Micah’s eyes on my ass.

He runs his hand over his jawline, like he’s thinking about it. “Not really. I—”

“Look, Micah, I’m not really in the mood for games.”

He reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

My breath stutters at his touch. It’s unexpectedly gentle and completely mind-blowing. Confusion fogs my mind.

“I came by to make sure you and Grogu were okay.”

A flicker of surprise zips through me, but I huff in frustration. “Why do you even care? And if you truly had, you wouldn’t have stood there and watched while everyone laughed.” I will not tell him I’m secretly impressed that not only does he know the character on my panties isn’t Baby Yoda, but he also knows the Child’s real name. I will not.

He steps closer, gripping my chin with his fingers and forcing me to maintain eye contact. His eyes narrow on mine before they slide down to my lips. He drags the pad of his thumb over the lower one. Tucking his head close to mine, he whispers against the shell of my ear, “You’re right.”

I turn my head just slightly so that my lips are a hair’s breadth from the warmth of his neck. I breathe out, “About what?”

We’re both very still for several seconds before he rasps, “Everything. I should have said something. I just— I don’t want to make things worse for you.”

I don’t get a chance to think about what Micah’s said because his huge hands settle on my hips, fingers pressing into my skin through my skirt. My breath hitches, and I feel dizzy. Heat infuses my body from head to toe as my mind stumbles, trying hard to keep up. I don’t have any previous experience with guys—nothing like this. My fingers scramble for purchase, clutching at his biceps. With a tumultuous leap, my heart takes off racing as Micah backs me up to a bookstack.

“What are you doing?” I’m embarrassed to admit that my voice sounds panicked to my ears. I don’t know if he notices, but it doesn’t seem to matter as he presses closer to me.

“Let’s call it an experiment. You like science.”

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