10. Chapter Ten
Micah
Eli and Arlo are bent over the laptop doing their wizardry with numbers when I walk in after lunch.
The two of them look as if they’ve been at this for hours.
Better Arlo than me. Mathing isn’t my thing.
The office smells of stale coffee and exhaustion.
Evidence of their caffeine-fueled afternoon litters the desktop.
“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Arlo asks, glancing my way as I flop into one of the office chairs with a dramatic sigh.
“What? Nothing.” That is a total lie, but I’m annoyed and I don’t know Eli that well.
“You look irritated. What happened?” I think about staying silent, but honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.
“Does Suerte have any other expression besides broody grump? It’s impossible to get a read on that guy.”
“Wouldn’t smile for your social media stuff, would he?” Arlo asks.
“Of course not. Why would he give us lowly mortals a smile?” Sarcasm is my love language.
“He’s not hard to read,” Eli says a little too fast. “He’s just guarded. I’ve seen him smile before.”
Arlo and I exchange a glance as Eli turns pink all the way to his ears before he abruptly closes his laptop and packs it away in his worn leather briefcase.
“Anyway. Gotta go. I’ll give you a call later, Arlo.” Briefcase in hand, he gives us a quick wave, and then he’s out the door before we can pepper him with questions. I raise my eyebrows at Arlo.
“There’s a story there.”
“Most definitely,” Arlo says. “I’m completely done for the day. How about you?”
“Nothing left today. I didn’t get any good pictures this afternoon.” I make a face, and Arlo laughs.
Arlo shuts down his laptop, grabs his latest spy novel, and heads to the couch.
I take out my sketchpad and meet him there.
This is the best time of day, when we’re sprawled out on Tiernan’s old leather office couch, finally done with all our daily work.
It’s surprisingly cozy. The muted thump of the bass from the gym’s sound system is the only disruption to our late afternoon calm.
“So, how’s the sex situation?” Arlo asks because he’s random like that. We’ve only been sitting for a few minutes.
“Seriously? That’s how you ask?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He grins at me, mischievous and unrepentant. I’m halfway through another sketch of Nox. No, my “Troy fixation” hasn’t run its course. In fact, it’s worse, except now I save my obsessive drawing of his sexy body parts for after work. That way, no one sees them.
“If you must know, I’m horny and sexually unsatisfied. It’s annoying,” I huff out a breath.
I don’t talk about how it felt to have Troy’s arms around me, or about how it was the first time I’d felt truly safe. I don’t say that what I actually want is for him to look at me the way he did after sex, like I was something worth keeping. Sex is just easier to talk about.
“That’s on you. You can change that at any point,” he says with a wink.
I could. But putting myself out there like that? Nope. I doubt he’d be interested. Sure, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d heard “no,” but Troy’s always been more than just a hookup. What if he says no, and then I have nothing? Just the thought makes my chest ache.
We’re both silent for a bit until I finally get up enough courage to speak.
“Yeah, I know.”
“But …”
“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?”
“I’m not, but I think you might feel better if you do,” he says quietly.
“Fine—I like him. I like him, like him and it feels weird.” I bring my legs up and hug them to my chest, feeling exposed. Even though I’m way past ‘like’, that’s all I’m willing to admit to right now.
“Micah, you know that’s normal, right? For people like us.” The couch creaks as he leans toward me. We aren’t the picture of mental health, either of us. And that’s exactly the issue. Why the fuck would Troy want someone as damaged as I am.
“It doesn’t feel normal.” My lips twist into a grimace. Asking for what I want? Out loud? Even though the sex was phenomenal, it’s a tough call.
But is it only the sex?
“Oh yeah. I remember,” Arlo says with a small smile.
He squeezes my shoulder, then goes back to reading his book. That’s one of the best things about Arlo. He doesn’t push. That also means I’ve got to push myself.
Well, if Troy can do it, I can too.
“Ready to go home?” Troy asks from the office door.
I’m beyond ready. I’ve been on pins and needles all day long. Thanks to my discussion with Arlo, I’ve decided tonight is the night. Best-case scenario, I get laid. Worst-case scenario, I spend the night drawing instead. It’s all good. I’ve got this.
The ride home is tense, and I know that’s all me, but I can’t seem to sit still. Troy’s probably gonna kick me out of the truck if I change the radio station one more time, and I can’t keep my legs from jiggling. I just need to do this. Now. So I can finally relax.
“We should have sex tonight,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant and completely failing.
Awkward much?
Troy’s head jerks up, and then he’s staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. He takes a breath, lets it out.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“Cool. Good. It’s settled then.”
Why did I think that would help? If anything, I’m even more keyed up. Troy keeps giving me the side-eye as if he’s verifying I’m still here with him. Not like I can leave while the truck’s moving.
Because we’re both excellent at being awkward, we sit in silence for the rest of the ride home. Thankfully, it’s only a few minutes. Jesus, how do normal people do this?
James is out watering his flowerbeds when we pull into the driveway. He waves before calling Troy over. Sweet relief.
I wave to both of them, then head inside. I need a hot shower and a few minutes alone.
Showers have to be one of the best things in life. You go in all messed up and come out clean and refreshed. As if the hot water washes away everything, and then you can start again with a clean slate.
Stepping under the steamy water is bliss.
I stand there, soaking in the warmth and trying not to think too hard about what’s going to happen later.
My body’s humming with nervous anticipation, and I’m half hard thinking about what might happen tonight.
I grab Troy’s body wash by mistake, and its spicy, masculine scent doesn’t help my dick situation.
When I come out refreshed and feeling new again, Troy is in the kitchen working on dinner. The smell of garlic and onion cooking in butter hits me, and my stomach responds accordingly.
He’s only wearing gray sweatpants, and his back still has beads of water running down it from his shower. I pause to admire him because, damn, that man is hot and we’re about to get naked together. Between that amazing ass and those sculpted thighs, I’m practically drooling.
Relax. Dinner first.
Grabbing my sketchbook as a distraction, I open it up to the drawing from earlier today.
Nox is preparing for a big battle against another demon.
They used to be friends, so it’s going to be an angsty situation, and he needs some kind of advantage that I haven’t figured out yet.
I do some random background drawing while I figure out how to handle it.
Troy’s ass is far more interesting than my sketchbook, apparently, because I can’t seem to keep my eyes off it.
He catches me staring once or twice and gives me a knowing smirk.
I don’t hate it. I’m not even paying attention to what I’m drawing.
My hand is moving on autopilot. I’m just blatantly checking him out and possibly even flirting a little.
When Troy comes over to set the table, he whispers in my ear, giving me the best shivers.
“See something you like?”
“You know I do,” I reply, biting my lower lip.
He just smirks and walks back into the kitchen. I don’t even know what’s for dinner, and I’m not even sure I care. I’m going to be far too turned on to eat if I don’t distract myself for a bit.
I bring my focus back to my drawing. Fuck.
Looks like Nox has a partner now, and he appears to be eerily similar to Troy.
I’ve just sketched the outline, but there he is, standing behind Nox, solid and steady.
My artist’s brain can’t leave it like this, even though my heart is beating wildly and there’s a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I fill in some texture and muscular detail, and outline the shape of his weapon.
Of course, my brain goes right for a dick joke.
I resist, but I do take a minute to appreciate Troy’s gray sweatpants. They’re the gift that keeps on giving.
Troy brings us dinner just as I add the last detail to the new weapon, setting a plate full of food next to me while I finish sketching.
The minute he sees it, everything shifts. He goes stiff beside me, before whirling around and retreating to the kitchen.
My heart drops and my breath catches. Not the response I was hoping for. I blink away the sting in my eyes and push the sketch away. Whatever. Maybe Nox doesn’t need anyone after all. I’ll be sure to fix that right after I eat. I should have known better.
Troy returns with his plate, and we eat our food in silence, the tension stretching like a rubber band until it feels as if it’s going to snap, taking everyone out with it.
Troy clears his throat twice, and I know he’s going to say something.
I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t, because I’m way too exposed for the “this is only casual” conversation right now.
Swallowing hard, I try to come up with some sort of sarcastic comment that will pull us out of this hellish tension.
He sets his fork on the table and clasps his hands with a determined expression.
“I need to say something,” he starts, his voice breaking, then he clears his throat again.
I cringe inwardly. Fuck my life. I don’t answer. I can’t.
“I don’t want this to be casual, Micah. I’ve wanted more since the beginning and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” he blurts out.
Stunned by his confession, I just sit there, forkful of food hanging in the air.
Wait what?
“Look you don’t have to be at the same place as me. I know that doesn’t always happen but I want you to consider this. To consider more. We can go on a few dates. Talk through things. You know, if you’re willing to try it on and see how it fits. Well, me, I mean. See how I fit. With you.”
I’m still waiting for my brain to catch up because Troy just said he wants to date me.
“Anyway, think about it. You know, if you want,” he finishes in the awkwardly adorable way he has.
That’s when it hits me hard. I do want this.
I’ve been low-key envying Arlo for what he has with Tier, but I already have it.
It’s morning coffee and carpooling to work.
It’s Sunday family dinners and James working on my car.
It’s hot couch sex and casserole for dinner.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and couldn’t admit to, and it’s right here. With him.
Troy clears his throat again, looking far more worried than he should. I need to tell him.
“I want to,” I say, my voice cracking. “To try I mean, with you. I think I’d really like that.”
I can feel the warmth of Troy’s smile from across the table, and it’s beautiful.
“That’s great. That’s really great,” he says, his low voice rough with emotion.
We continue eating, grinning at each other like a couple of fools, but who cares. It’s just us.