14. Micah
FOURTEEN
MICAH
Watching Jasmine light Colton Taylor up in public is the most fun I’ve had all week.
I sip my water and lean back on the low wall, letting the sun hit my face while she tears into him as if he’s the reason daylight savings exists. Honestly, she’s doing the Lord’s work. The guy’s overdue for a public reckoning.
Will’s trying not to laugh beside me. Luke, of course, isn’t even pretending.
“Think she caught him with someone else?” Luke murmurs, nudging my leg with his knee.
“Caught him thinking about someone else, more like,” I say, tearing open a protein bar. “Colton Taylor would never risk getting caught with his dick out. That’s too human.”
Will snorts into his smoothie.
Luke grins, dropping his voice lower. “Yeah, but you’d know. Right?”
I go still.
The air around us doesn’t shift, but I do. The laugh gets caught in my throat, and I mask it with a bite of protein bar. Everyo ne knows something happened between me and Colton. But they don’t know what happened. Unless they were there.
I shrug. Then fish out my phone. A new message from GoldenSpiral is on my phone, and I grin as I swipe into it.
GoldenSpiral23: I like fire. But I’ve got too much to burn.
I type out a quick reply. Distracted by this guy I don’t really know.
Me: I thought you like fire.
Across the quad, Jasmine’s voice spikes. “Colton!”
I glance up just in time to see her throw her hands in the air as though she’s about to body slam him. They’re fully going at it now, voices carrying. Colton’s shoulders are drawn tight, but he’s not yelling back. Just taking it.
Will whistles low. “Damn. Wonder what he did this time.”
“Probably caught him sexting someone hotter,” Luke offers, smirking.
“Or someone with better eyebrows,” Will adds, nudging Luke.
“Someone with a personality,” I mutter, not quite under my breath.
Luke laughs. “Damn, Micah. Tell us how you really feel.”
I shrug, biting into my bar. “Just saying, dude’s all abs and no actual emotional capacity. He'd be like dating a gym membership with a god complex.”
Ty snorts from the grass. “And yet people still try. ”
“Because people love pain,” Luke says, stretching out on his elbows. “And Colton Taylor is a walking red flag with an eight-pack.”
That earns a round of laughs, but mine fades fast. I unlock my phone screen and type out a quick message. Golden still hasn't replied. Maybe I scared him off. Maybe the flirting finally pushed too far, or the fire metaphor hit too close to something he’s not ready to talk about.
I hope not.
Because this guy—who I’ve never seen, never touched, don’t even know —makes me feel more seen in ten-line messages than most people do in a whole damn season.
I start to lock my screen again when it buzzes. My heart stutters like the loser I am.
GoldenSpiral23: Still here. Just burned a bridge I should’ve walked off months ago.
I stare at the words longer than I should. The timing. The vibe. The fact that Jasmine just stormed off, and Colton looked as though he’d been gutted on the sidewalk.
I stand up and stretch, facing away from him.
My eyes flick back across the quad. He’s still sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, phone in hand. It isn’t him. That’s stupid.
Luke nudges me with his foot. “You get a sext, or are you just trying to manifest one?”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Nah. Just someone who accidentally makes me feel things.”
Luke raises an eyebrow. “Oh no. Feelings? That’s your kink now?”
“Shut up,” I say, but the edge is gone.
I tap out a reply.
Me: Sounds like you’re making your own fire without me. Want me to distract you?
GoldenSpiral23: I always want that.
It should be a throwaway line. A flirty reply, same as usual.
But there’s something about it this time, something softer around the edges. As if it costs him something to admit.
I settle onto the brick wall.
Me: Yeah? What would you want me to do if I was there right now?
GoldenSpiral23: First? Distract me.
Then maybe… keep me company.
I smirk to myself, thumbs flying.
Me: Oh, I’m very good company.
People beg me to stay.
GoldenSpiral23: Bet they don’t know how to keep you.
The words punch a little lower than I’m sure he intended.
Me: Sounds like you’re the one who needs keeping.
GoldenSpiral23: Maybe. Some days I feel like if I stop pretending to be fine, no one will stick around .
I pause. The noise of the guys fades, replaced by the hum under my skin.
Me: You pretend a lot?
GoldenSpiral23: All the time. Smile, joke, nod in the right places.
Nobody looks past it.
…Maybe I don’t want them to.
Something in my chest twists.
Me: You can let me look.
Three dots. They appear, vanish. Then?—
GoldenSpiral23: I used to think if people saw the real me, they’d leave. So I became someone they’d never want to look too closely at.
I stare at the screen.
Something in my chest pulls tight. Not in a painful way. But as if the truth is crowding in, and there’s nowhere to hide from it.
Me: That sounds lonely.
GoldenSpiral23: It is. But sometimes I forget how to stop pretending. I’ve been playing a role for so long I don’t remember who I was before.
I look up instinctively .
Colton’s pinching the bridge of his nose, then dragging a hand through his hair. The way he’s sitting—tense, closed off—matches the tone of Golden’s words a little too well.
But no. It can’t be him.
I force my gaze back down.
My fingers hesitate before replying.
Me: I do that, too. Only difference is I remember who I was. I just don’t like him very much.
The response doesn’t come right away.
When it does, it’s slower than usual. As if he’s thinking about this one.
GoldenSpiral23: I think I’d like him. You’re the only person I can talk to like this. It feels...different with you.
My breath catches.
I reread it three times. Then a fourth. Because something in those words feels too deep. More than just a good hookup in disguise.
It feels personal.
I glance up again.
Colton’s staring down at his phone, unreadable.
God.
No. Shut up. Stop it. It’s not him.
Me: It feels different for me too. I don’t have to perform. And I can breathe here.
GoldenSpiral23: Maybe that’s what this is. Not an escape. Just a place where we finally get to be real .
It’s so simple. So easy. And I swear, if he asked me to meet him right now, I might actually say yes.
Which is terrifying.
Because I’m not supposed to be this open. Not after everything. Not with someone who could turn out to be anyone.
Anyone.
Even—
No.
I close my eyes for a second. Force the thought away.
When I open them again, another message is waiting.
GoldenSpiral23: I think about you more than I should. Even when I’m supposed to be focused on serious shit.
Especially then.
I bite my lip.
Because me too.
God, me too.
Me: That makes two of us. Guess we’re both screwed.
GoldenSpiral23: Maybe. But for once, I don’t feel alone in it.
I set the phone in my lap and stare straight ahead.
And across the quad, Colton shifts on the bench—still unreadable, still just a silhouette in the sunlight—but I can’t stop the thought now.
The one that keeps whispering louder every time we talk.
What if it’s him ?
I set my phone in my lap, the last message from Golden still glowing on the screen.
Maybe. But for once, I don’t feel alone in it.
It makes my chest ache in this quiet, unspoken way. As though something’s breaking open that I didn’t realize was still locked. I don’t even notice Luke watching me until he plucks the bar wrapper from my hand.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he says, “where you look as if you’re falling in love with your phone.”
“Maybe I am,” I mutter, trying to play it off.
Luke raises a brow, slow and deliberate. “Okay, but is he hot?”
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “That's kind of the point.”
He hums. “That’s hot. Very mysterious. Very secret-agent-coded. Want me to distract you so you don’t fall too hard for a stranger?”
Before I can answer, he swings a leg over to straddle the wall, facing me, his grin pure mischief. “Or are you not into tall, sharp-jawed teammates with excellent taste in cologne and a tragic taste in men?”
I snort. “You practicing for your dating profile again?”
“Nope. Practicing for yours,” he shoots back, reaching to tug at my hoodie string. “Put ‘emotionally unavailable, but hot in the right lighting.’ You’ll rake in the lovers.”
I’m laughing despite myself. “You’re unhinged.”
“Obviously.” He leans closer, voice low. “But I’m fun. And hot. And I wouldn’t make you talk through feelings on an app like some emotionally constipated mystery man.”
He’s teasing. It’s safe. Light. But underneath it, there’s always the offer. A real one. Luke’s not just a flir t—he’s steady in a way most people aren’t. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. But we're not compatible like that.
Before I can respond, I hear footsteps.
And then a shadow moves over us.
Colton.
He’s approaching with that casual confidence that used to make people shut up and shift over. But he’s quieter today. Tense around the eyes. Jaw tight.
He nods to Will and Ty, then glances at Luke and me. “Hey.”
Luke doesn’t move from his spot in front of me.
Will whistles. “Look who didn’t get murdered.”
Ty grins. “Did she let you live because you promised to cry about it on your insta?”
Colton glares at them but doesn’t deny it.
“She break up with you?” Will asks, as if he’s genuinely curious, or it’s a sport he’s placed a bet on .
“Didn’t know you were into public humiliation, Taylor,” Ty adds.
“I’m not,” Colton mutters.
Luke shifts on the wall, still straddling it, and leans in closer—his knees bracketing mine, one hand tugging gently on my hoodie string.
Colton’s eyes flick to the movement.
They drag over Luke’s hand, still holding onto me, then to the space—or lack of it—between us.
Something tightens in his jaw.
He doesn’t look away.
Good.
Let him stew. I lean into Luke’s warmth, and he grins as if he picks up on what I'm doing .
“You okay, Colton?” I ask sweetly. “You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
He levels me with a look. “Fine.”
Luke hums, still playing with the hoodie cord. “Fine as in emotionally devastated or fine as in you’re gonna cry in your Jeep listening to Drake?”
Will coughs on a laugh. Ty chokes on his Gatorade.
Colton doesn’t answer.
He just drops down onto the edge of the wall, pulling out his water bottle, jaw still locked.
And I reach for my phone, unlocking the screen. Golden’s last message still glows.
But for once, I don’t feel alone in it.
And across from me, Colton Taylor finally looks as if he might be.