8. Chapter Eight
Micah
The comforting smell of old coffee and Troy’s latest casserole lingers in the air.
I’m supposed to be working on the social media for my car repair client, but I’m not.
What am I doing instead? Nothing that’s gonna earn me any money, that’s for sure.
This is my tenth sketch of Troy. I’m averaging two a day lately.
The late afternoon sunlight is perfect for sketching, which isn’t helping me at all.
It’s been almost a week since that awkward but unexpectedly hot night on his couch.
A night that I remember vividly at the most inconvenient times, despite my best efforts.
And yet, I haven’t made a move to ask for a repeat performance, and I’d like one because the first one just about blew my mind.
Troy has been irritatingly quiet about it this entire week. We go on about our day, doing the usual things, same as last week. As if nothing’s different. But it’s a lie because everything is different. At least for me.
I’ve always enjoyed sex. It’s never been an issue. But this doesn’t feel like the friends with benefits situations I’ve had in the past. And it doesn’t feel like a one-night stand or even my one and only attempt at having a relationship—aka Derek the disaster.
“This one’s great, Micah,” Arlo says, peering over my shoulder at my latest sketch of Troy’s biceps. “Is this for one of your new clients?”
“Uh … no, it’s new,” I say, while thinking frantically of how I can pass this off as something other than me obsessing.
“So cool. Nice arms, love the details.” He’s looking at this far more closely than I’d like.
“Thanks.”
“Did you use one of our guys as a model? That looks like Diesel.”
A dry, sarcastic laugh escapes before I can stop it.
“Oh! It’s like that!” Arlo raises his eyebrows at me. I duck my head because he knows me too well.
“Oh, you are so going to spill, Micah. Come on. Details.” He’s been spending too much time with Tiernan. He’s got that you better talk or else look down pat.
“No details. Nothing to talk about.” I try to salvage the situation, but Arlo always sees right through me. I squirm in my seat because the black rolling office chair I always use is suddenly uncomfortable.
“You are the worst liar ever, Micah,” he says, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat. “Try again.”
I might as well just tell him. He’s going to dig at me all afternoon if I don’t.
“Fine,” I sigh loudly so he knows he’s getting this information under protest. A glance around the room assures me the door is closed, and we’re alone. “You have to swear on your life that you won’t say a word. I mean it, Arlo.”
“Of course I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you. We’re friends. That means something.” His earnest expression reminds me that not everyone is an asshole. I forget that sometimes.
“Troy and I are doing this friends with benefits thing,” I tell him.
“I love that you’re the only one who calls him Troy. Continue.” He waves his hands like a magician.
I roll my eyes at him, but he just laughs.
“Well, now it’s weird. And we haven’t done anything since the first time.”
“Wait, but you did do something? Right?”
“Yes. Right after we agreed to do the FWB thing. We definitely did something.”
“And it was … good, bad, monumentally mind blowing? What was it?” he says, flopping his hand out dramatically.
“Oh no, it was good.”
He smirks.
“Just good?”
“Fine, it was so much better than good. Maybe close to mind blowing. Maybe.” I wince, slumping down in my chair because that feels too personal. Too revealing.
“Okay, so the sex was good, possibly mind-blowing, but it hasn’t happened again?”
“Exactly! What do I do?” I ask.
“What do you mean what do you do? What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you!” I almost shout, I’m way up in my head.
Arlo’s wearing his serious expression, and I don’t like it. That means he’s going to say something meaningful that I probably don’t want to hear.
“Micah, what do you want to happen with Diesel?” he asks softly.
I get up and pace around the office because I need to move when I think things through. There isn’t a lot of room in here. In my haste, I trip, barely missing my chair and almost face-planting on the old leather couch. At least it wouldn’t have hurt. Much. Graceful I am not.
“Micah?” Arlo’s voice brings me back to his question. Which I haven’t been avoiding. At all.
What do I want?
Well, I definitely want to have more sex with Troy, but I don’t want to ask him for it. And there’s the issue. Asking him for something, especially this, feels like too big a risk.
“I want more sex with Troy,” I say finally, feeling as if I’m standing here naked.
“Obviously. And what’s stopping you from asking for what you want?” he asks.
Sitting down, I bury my head in my hands, not sure I can look at his face when I answer.
“I don’t want to ask him,” I mumble.
Arlo just smiles.
“Why not?” he asks gently, rubbing a soothing hand down my back. It’s strangely reassuring, and that’s unexpected. I don’t do touchy-feely, but I don’t stop him.
“Because what if he says no?” I say, hating that I’m even saying it out loud.
Arlo’s hand is still for a second, then he goes back to rubbing my back.
“That’s a risk. I know. I’ve been right there where you are. For what it’s worth, I doubt that he would say no. In fact, I’d guarantee it.”
“But you don’t know for sure,” I say, finally able to look up.
My nervous energy needs an outlet, so of course I can’t stop fiddling with my charcoal pencil or rubbing my eraser on the leg of my jeans.
Arlo sits quietly for a moment before catching my gaze.
“You’re right. You don’t know, Micah. We both know there’s no sure thing in life. Probably too well.” He pauses. This conversation isn’t easy for him. I can see that. Neither of us is big on dredging up our past.
“Taking a risk on someone is hard, especially when the people we’ve known in the past weren’t trustworthy. We seem to have that in common. Among other things.” He swallows, then clears his throat.
Looks like we’re doing this whole emotional thing we’ve both been avoiding. We’ve never discussed our Derek connection. It’s probably time we did. I take his hand because when it comes to Derek, he got the worst of it.
“I don’t know how bad it was for you, but I was with him a long time,” Arlo tells me, his voice rough with suppressed emotion.
“I figured. He used to bring your name up when he was trying to make me jealous. It only worked once or twice before I caught on to him. He was manipulative like that.”
“Yeah, he was,” Arlo says, taking a deep breath. “He got physical with me, and I let it get way too ugly before I finally left. I wasn’t sure what he was like with you.”
“I’m not surprised. What a fucking dick. We hadn’t gotten there yet but I saw it coming. Just seeing how scared you were when he confronted you by the dumpster. I knew.”
He groans and squeezes my hand, but the guilty self-loathing he’s still carrying is all over his face. I get it. Sometimes we’re our own worst enemy.
“Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I would have stayed longer. Watching you stand up to him was what made me pull my head out of my ass.” It’s hard watching him carry this guilt when none of it belongs to him. “Look, I knew he was bad news, but it was kind of nice having someone who gave a shit. Ya know?”
“Oh, I know. It was the same for me. I was young and my parents had kicked me out. He made me feel as if I was worth it, for a while anyway.”
“Well, I knew it was coming. I was in foster care, so I’m no stranger to people getting physical. I could see the signs. That shit always leaves a mark, in one way or another.”
We sit quietly for a bit. Arlo is still deep in thought while I play with my pen. I can see he needs a minute, but the color is coming back to his face.
“I figured it was something like that about your childhood. Broken recognizes broken, I guess,” he says after a minute.
And then, because I’m me, I laugh.
“Yeah, it does.” I give him a grin and he gives it right back because fuck the past. We’ve given it enough of our time.
“I’m gonna tell you something,” Arlo says, grinning.
“I’m not gonna like it. Am I?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you’re gonna hear it anyway. Since we’re friends.”
“Alright, I guess I can handle it from a friend.”
“You have to decide if you’re going to take the risk. I had to take a chance on Tier, and look how that turned out. I can’t guarantee that it’ll be the same with Diesel, but based on how that man’s been looking at you for the last three months, I’d be willing to bet on it.”
“Wait what? How does he look at me?”
“Honestly, Micah, I think you’re the only one who hasn’t noticed.”
“Everyone knows about my sex life? Fantastic.”
“Relax. No one but me knows about your sex life, but pretty much everyone knows that he’s had a crush on you since you walked in here.”
That can’t be right. How did I miss that?