Chapter Thirty-OneMicahOctober 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Micah
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it needs to be said.
“We’re going to be late, Fischer.” I glance at my phone, feeling antsy.
Chad is back from Laketown, and I am desperate to know what happened while he was gone.
I’ve texted him several times since Friday, and he seemed fine.
But there’s a lot that can be hidden behind a screen.
Kind of like how Fischer is hidden in my bathroom and refusing to come out.
I tap my foot. “Seriously, what is taking you so long? Your costume is fine!”
Opening the door, he slowly emerges and gives me my first glimpse of him in the costume I picked out.
It’s understated compared to my purple trapeze outfit like Zendaya wore in The Greatest Showman , but the man knows how to rock a red coat and top hat.
He might even wear it better than Zac Efron, which is saying something.
Honestly, I’m amazed he agreed to wear a costume in the first place, let alone one that matches mine.
But over the last week of spending every waking moment with Fischer, I have learned that he is really good at making me happy.
For someone who is generally happy already, I never would have thought I would need someone to boost me up the way he does.
“You look amazing,” I tell him, circling him to get the full effect. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous to wear this.”
Cocking his head, he reaches out and catches my hand to pull me in close. “I’m fine with the costume.” He tucks me into an embrace—no complaints from me.
“Then why—”
“I’m terrified to meet your brother.”
That’s what this is about? I try to peel myself away from his chest so I can see his face, but he holds me tight. The hug must have been a trick so he could hide from me. “You don’t have to be afraid of Chad.”
He scoffs. “The guy is a private investigator who somehow got my phone number and texted me to warn me what would happen if I did anything to hurt you.”
“I’m still mad you won’t show me that text.”
Apparently, Chad sent the text two days ago after I told him that I’m in love with Fischer.
I figured I should give him the heads up before I brought Fischer to our yearly Halloween party; I didn’t want him trying to scare Fischer away.
Dad already tried that a few days ago when he showed up in Sun City to talk ideas for starting an event planning business, and Fischer was absolutely amazing.
If he can hold his own against my dad, Chad should be a walk in the park.
Fischer takes a deep breath, and it feels like he’s psyching himself up to get through tonight.
“Would you relax?” I tell him. “Brooklyn is bringing Jordan over for the first time, and Houston has a date as well. There will be too much going on for Chad to start interrogating you.”
There’s that growl that I love, rumbling deep in his chest and in my ear. “You’re telling me he would be interrogating me if the twins weren’t bringing dates?”
“Probably. But he won’t because they are.”
“You’re not making this easier, Mic. He knows about what went down with Miranda, and he’s not going to—”
“Come on, give him some credit. Chad is smart enough to know that wasn’t your fault.”
Fischer clenches his jaw, shaking his head. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that my name is tainted. I never should have agreed to—”
I cover his mouth, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not letting you back out of this, Fischer Bradley. With or without your name, I need you with me. Besides, people love me too much, so my name will outshine yours until your curse is completely gone.”
He doesn’t seem to have an argument for that one, even if his expression is still full of concern.
“Maybe you’re right. But maybe it would be a good idea for me to wait until things are more certain before I give your family any ideas about how much you’re willing to keep me around. What if you change your mind?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
I wiggle myself free and hop onto the kitchen counter so I’m closer to eye level with him as I sit on the edge.
My face heats with the hungry look in his eyes—I’ve spent a lot of time on this perfectly positioned countertop over the last week, and I know exactly what he’s thinking—but I don’t have a lot of time to convey how desperately I want Fischer and Chad to meet.
“My brother means so much to me.” I place my hands on his cheeks.
“And you mean so much to me. Chad is an anchor in my life, and you keep me grounded, and there is nothing I want more than to have you two meet and get along. I’m determined to keep you both in my life, whether or not I start up a company. Don’t ruin this dream for me.”
He narrows his eyes, but he’s not frustrated enough to keep himself from turning his head and placing a kiss on my palm.
“You are more manipulative than you look,” he murmurs, taking hold of my arm and kissing my wrist. “I want to meet Chad. I’m just telling you I’m nervous he won’t think I’m good enough for you because I’m not. ”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I tug him forward and lock my mouth onto his.
He deepens the kiss immediately, hands snaking around my waist over the thin fabric that makes up my trapeze costume, and for a second I forget that I’ve got a party to get to as his thumbs dig into my stomach while he claims all my attention with his kiss.
I thought our first kisses were good, but apparently he’s been holding back all week because this is beyond delicious.
“Are you trying to distract me?” I breathe when he starts trailing kisses along my jaw toward my neck. I can barely get the words out.
“Is it working?”
Yes . “No.”
“Liar.” He finds my mouth again.
My phone buzzes on the counter behind me and finally pulls me back to reality. Though Fischer growls—that nearly convinces me to go back to kissing him—I pick up my phone and read the text I just got.
Kit: I need you to make sure Houston doesn’t try to get out of wearing his costume all night. A bet’s a bet, and he had better not think he can get out of paying up.
I giggle and type back a reply.
Me: What did you end up choosing as the loser costumes?
Knowing Kit, it won’t be anything tame. His friendship with Houston started a year and a half ago at our family reunion when Houston challenged him at the ball toss at the fair, and they’ve been coming up with bets ever since. Neither one of them pulls punches when it comes to whoever loses.
Kit: You’ll just have to wait and see. I got a picture from him, and it’s spectacular. But I need to know he won’t change now that I’ve seen it, so you’re in charge of sending regular updates.
“And you wonder why I’m afraid of your family,” Fischer mutters. He’s smiling, though, as he stretches his arm around my shoulder to make it easier to read my texts with me. “I’m so glad I ended up on Kit’s team for trivia night.”
Memories of that night—anticipating a goodnight kiss—fill me with so much warmth that I turn and press my lips against Fischer’s cheek. “You’re lucky Kit and Skyler are competitive because you did nothing to help our team win. In fact, you did the opposite because you kept distracting me.”
“I regret nothing.”
I send a quick text to Kit, telling him that I’ll make sure Houston holds up his end of the bet, and then I slip from the countertop. “Ready?” I ask Fischer.
“As I’ll ever be.”
By the time Fischer pulls up in front of Chad’s house, his anxiety has filtered over to me as well.
What if Chad doesn’t like him? Would the scandal of Fischer’s old company really be enough to convince Chad that Fischer and I shouldn’t be together?
It won’t change the way I feel, but I would hate for anyone to not welcome Fischer into the family because of a dumb misunderstanding.
“I’m more than happy to sit in the car the rest of the night if that’s what you want to do,” Fischer says gently. “Even if it’s delaying the inevitable.”
“Well, that’s just dumb.” I slip out of the car before I can chicken out, glad when Fischer joins me and tucks my arm through his. “Chad is going to love you.”
But when Chad opens his door looking like he’s had the worst week of his life, I’m not nearly as convinced as I was a second ago. Despite his job making him work strange hours and stay up late doing stakeouts, he’s never looked this tired or this worn.
“What’s wrong with you?” I blurt out.
Thankfully, he chuckles and takes a step back to let us inside. “Good to see you too, Half-pint. I’m fine. You must be Fischer.”
Fischer eyes Chad’s outstretched hand before grasping it. “Yes, sir. Fischer Bradley.”
“I know.” Chad has dropped his voice so it’s deeper and rougher than normal, as if that might change something about my relationship. He glances at me before returning his focus to Fischer. “I know exactly who you are.” His comment almost sounds like a challenge.
Fischer swallows. “So does she.”
“Good.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Are you done trying to intimidate him?” I ask. “My dad already tried that on Monday when he came to visit, but he decided he likes Fischer.”
To my utter relief, Chad smiles and gestures for us to head into the kitchen. “Lloyd’s stamp of approval, huh? That’s impressive.”
“Exactly the word I use to describe him.” I sit myself on one of the bar stools at Chad’s countertop and tug Fischer onto the one next to me. As Chad grabs a bowl of salad from the fridge, I narrow my eyes at him. “Uh, where is your costume, Grizz?”
Chad doesn’t even flinch, setting the bowl on the counter and sliding a pizza into the warmed oven. “I’m wearing it.”
He’s wearing a plaid shirt that he wears all the time, and though his blonde scruff is thicker than usual, it hardly counts as a beard if he’s going for a lumberjack look.
It’s more of a “I’ve been too miserable to shave” kind of beard.
I still don’t know why he decided to leave Laketown, and I’m almost afraid to ask after seeing the exhaustion in his eyes.
Fischer squeezing my hand gives me the boost I need, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Chad.”
“Micah.”
“What happened with your neighbor?”
Chad closes the oven with a little too much oomph , and the fact that he doesn’t immediately tell me nothing happened means I’ve caught onto something. He takes a slow breath, makes eye contact with Fischer, and then folds his arms as he leans against the stove. “It’s a long story.”
“We happen to love long stories.”
Fischer grimaces. “I don’t need… You don’t have to tell me anything.”
Chad chuckles. “Micah will fill you in even if I don’t.”
“That’s true,” I say brightly. “So there really is some drama with the single mama?”
His face goes slack. “How did you know about the kids?”
It’s my turn to look shocked, my jaw dropping. “What kids? Does your neighbor have kids?”
“You said mama.”
“I just said it ’cause it rhymed!”
Groaning, Chad runs a hand down his face and looks weary to the bone as he does it.
“Can we just get through tonight? I’ll tell you all about them tomorrow, but I’m going to need what little energy I have to deal with the fact that Brooklyn is apparently dating Jordan Torres of all people and Houston thought it was a good idea to bring his flavor of the month to a family party. ”
“Oo, are they officially dating now? Last I heard, Brook and Jordan were on the rocks, and trivia night was pretty ambiguous. And who is Houston bringing?” Normally I’m the one who has all the answers, but I’ve been happily distracted this week.
“Someone named Darcy,” Chad says.
I glance at Fischer, who raises an eyebrow at me. We’ve been speculating ever since the Greenwood event, but Houston has been mum every time I try to ask about his dating life. “Guess he made a decision between her and Tamlin,” I say. “Now I’m extra eager to meet this girl.”
“At least one of us is,” Chad mutters. He looks at Fischer again, frowning, and then sighs. “You’re just as interested as she is, aren’t you?”
Though he turns red, Fischer shrugs. “You have to admit it’s intriguing.”
Now Chad turns to me, his eyes soft. We all have blue eyes, a trait we share with our mom, but his eyes are darker than the rest of ours.
I’ve always thought they gave him a depth that matches his life.
His expression tells me he’s about to drop some truth on me in the way he always does, and I hold my breath, waiting.
“I’m glad you found someone who matches your enthusiasm for the good things in life,” he says quietly. “I hope he deserves you.”
“I hope so too,” Fischer replies, which is probably the best thing he could ever say to Chad.
He does deserve me. He’s been my rock for the last week, helping me stay strong every time Lila has called and begged me to come back to work for her.
Apparently her events this last week have been terrible, and I’ve already received some calls from clients asking if I am working somewhere else so they can hire me.
I also may have removed Ember’s access to my fancy calendar when I was feeling particularly annoyed by her half-hearted groveling, since I’m the one who set it all up; she stopped calling after that.
It has been a whirlwind week, and I wouldn’t have made it through without Fischer there to offer unwavering support.
The front door opens, and Brooklyn calls out a hello before gliding into the kitchen dressed as a ballerina.
Leotard, tights, tutu, the works. And because this is not in any way a Brooklyn kind of costume—it shows off all her curves in a way she usually hides—something tells me she’s paying for the bet just like Houston. Which means…
Brooklyn catches my eye and grins. “Jordan and Hou are on their way,” she explains. “Houston needed a little help getting into his costume.”
“His costume,” I repeat, trying not to laugh. “As in his costume to match your costume?”
And when Brooklyn nods, eyes glittering, I grab my phone so I can take as many pictures as I possibly can to send to Kit.
Tonight’s going to be fun, and I can’t help but think about how things are almost perfect.
With Fischer beside me, I think life is going to feel that way for the rest of forever.