Chapter 4
RYLIN
By the time my shift was over, I felt like I was only being held together by stubbornness and caffeine. The dinner rush had finally tapered off, and I’d gotten the chance to wipe down the last table in my section. As I stretched my arm out, I felt someone watching me.
It was a sensation I’d grown used to over the past week because I’d been wrong about Micah forgetting about me.
I glanced over my shoulder and found him leaning against the counter like he was waiting for me.
His arms were crossed, one ankle hooked over the other, his blue eyes locked on me.
Just like they were each time he’d stopped into the deli during one of my shifts.
Although there had been plenty of times when he’d pitched in to help.
I tried not to assume it was for me. He owned the place, after all.
He was probably just investing his time and effort into his business.
My stomach flipped, the same way it always did when he was here. Much to my annoyance.
“You look tired.” He pushed away from the counter to walk toward me.
“That’s because I am,” I muttered, moving past him to toss my rag into the bin to be washed. “Busy day.”
“Good shift?”
“Yeah.” He followed me into the break room, where I grabbed my tote from my locker. “You guys need to keep winning. It’s great for tips.”
His deep laugh sent a tingle of awareness down my spine. “I’ll let my coach know to add that into his pep talk before our last preseason game next weekend.”
That earned him an appreciative smile. “Good.”
“I’ll walk you to the station.”
I froze with my fingers on the strap of my bag. “You really don’t have to do that.”
“You can waste time arguing, or we can head out.” His head tilted just slightly, the corner of his kissable mouth lifting in a way that did dangerous things to my heartbeat. “It’s late. Nobody should be walking these streets alone this time of night if they don’t have to.”
My pulse skipped in a way I never experienced before, and a tiny crack formed in the wall I kept around myself. I forced myself to look away before he saw it.
“Fine.” I swung my tote over my shoulder. “Just to the station even though it isn’t that far.”
He dipped his head once in agreement. “Let’s go, baby.”
Hearing him call me “baby” made something warm unfurl in my chest, even as I reminded myself I couldn’t afford to fall for him. Or anyone right now.
But I still followed him outside, cursing the humidity, which probably made my hair look even worse than it already did after working all day.
Micah matched his pace to mine, which meant he had to slow down. A lot.
A comfortable kind of quiet settled between us, and even though I told myself not to, I was hyperaware of him. How big and solid he felt beside me.
A group of people spilled out of a bar as we passed, laughing too loudly, not watching where they were going. One of them bumped my shoulder hard enough to knock me off-balance.
Before I could react, Micah’s hand was on my lower back, and he pulled me against his side.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
“Yeah,” I breathed, even though my pulse was racing. “I’m fine.”
That was only partially true. Physically, sure. Emotionally? Not even close.
He’d rescued me from being knocked over, but his touch had heat shooting all the way up my spine.
His hand didn’t move for a full heartbeat. Maybe two. Then he eased it away.
The ghost of his touch stayed behind, though, burning through my shirt.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you.” He fisted his hands at his side.
I peeked up at him, unsure of why he was apologizing. “I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stay on my feet if you hadn’t.”
His jaw flexed. “Still. You deserve gentleness.”
My breath caught at his words, and I forgot the rules I’d carved into myself for a moment. The city noise faded, the humid air disappeared, and Micah was the only thing I was aware of.
It took all my self-control to keep walking, putting inches between us, even when I wanted to throw myself into his arms.
The space between us crackled with chemistry all the way to the subway entrance.
I slowed, expecting him to stop walking any second. But he didn’t.
Instead, he followed me down the stairs and to the turnstiles, pulling out his phone and tapping the button to open his digital wallet.
I blinked up at him. “Wait, hold on. You take the subway?”
“Any real New Yorker does.” His mouth tipped into a lazy half smile. “And I was signed by the Nighthawks seven years ago.”
I sputtered. “Yeah, but you’re a professional athlete. You can hire as many black cabs as you want. Or even a full-time driver.”
“The subway is more convenient sometimes.” He stepped forward and tapped his phone on the scanner like it was no big deal.
I swiped my Metro card—since I didn’t have a credit card, I only had cash to pay for my transportation—heat crawling up my neck as I mumbled, “You were only supposed to walk me to the station.”
He didn’t pause, just fell into step beside me while we started down the steps. Once we reached the platform, the tunnel wind fluttered my hair as a train roared past without stopping. The breeze was a momentary relief from the hot, humid air trapped underground.
It felt like we were heading home together. As though he belonged next to me.
We moved with the crowd toward the platform edge as a train approached. Bodies shifted around us in the humid press of people.
Someone behind me stumbled, pushed forward by the wave of commuters. Before I even registered the motion, Micah’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly against him so I didn’t fall.
My breath caught, and every nerve ending lit up.
His hold was instinctive. And protective. Something I’d never really experienced before.
He released me slowly, his fingers brushing my hip before dropping away. My heart thudded, yet it was more from his touch than the close call. “Thanks for coming to my rescue again.”
“You’re welcome.” His eyes searched mine, something shadowed and intense beneath the blue gaze. “You look so surprised that I’d do something as simple as stop you from being knocked over.”
“I’m just…not used to anyone looking out for me, I guess.” That pained me to admit, but only because of how true it was.
He shifted close enough to my side that I felt the heat radiating from his muscular body. “Did someone hurt you?”
I swallowed. “Life hurts more than people.”
His jaw flexed, his expression turning gentle, fierce, and protective all at once. “Rylin.”
“I don’t want your pity,” I whispered, needing to remind both of us of the line between us.
“I don’t pity you. I admire you.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up to meet my eyes again. “And I want you.”
Sensual awareness coursed through me, equally dizzying and dangerous. I wanted him too, but it was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
The ground began to rumble, then the glow of the train’s headlights cut through the tunnel. I took a small step closer to the yellow line, my tote clutched to my side. Micah stayed just behind me. Close enough that if I leaned back even an inch, my shoulder would brush his chest.
I cleared my throat, trying to shove back the warmth still rippling through me from his confession. Keeping my gaze forward, I murmured, “Just so we’re clear, I don’t date customers.”
His reply was low and amused. “Good thing I own the place.”
I snapped my gaze toward him. “That makes you my boss, which is even worse than dating a customer.”
He shrugged, his mouth lifting at one corner like he was enjoying our banter. “Raiden’s really the boss. I’m barely middle management.”
Despite myself, a short laugh escaped me. “Micah, I’m serious.”
“I know.” His tone softened, losing its teasing edge. “And I’m also aware that you’re trying really hard to convince yourself of rules you don’t even want.”
I ducked my head so he couldn’t see the pink in my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t date anyone until my life is in order.”
The words came out quieter than I meant. More vulnerable than I wanted.
“I can help with that if you let me.”
His voice was so gentle it nearly undid me. His sincerity was obvious. He meant every word.
“I have to go.” I turned to step toward the doors as the train rolled to a stop, but he closed his fingers around my wrist, tugging me back long enough to look at him.
His thumb brushed lightly along the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse point. “Text me when you get home.”
Before I could react, he leaned in. His lips touched mine, soft and slow. The kiss was barely there but devastating enough to light up places inside me I’d never known existed.
Bodies flowed around us as people got off and on the train, the doors dinging a warning that I needed to board soon.
When he pulled back an inch, his breath mingled with mine. “Good night, Rylin.”
I stepped into the train on autopilot, turning just in time to see him still standing on the platform, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was the only thing worth looking at.
The doors slid shut.
I pressed a hand over my racing heart as the train lurched forward.
It had only taken one kiss to crack every wall I’d spent years building.