Chapter 15
Ivy
Micah can’t stand to touch me. He can barely stand to look at me. After so many years of him being my bad guy, this shouldn’t bother me.
But it does.
Micah is warm. Kind. Big and bold. He goes after what he wants, and I miss the way it felt when what he wanted was me. I wish he’d leave his hand on mine. I wish he’d look at me without looking away. I wish he’d hear me when I say I so deeply regret the way things turned out.
We decide that Nell and I will move into his house tomorrow. It’s short notice, but Micah’s off work and since it’s Saturday, Nell won’t be at school. She can help with the move.
“She might not see it as such a big scary change if she’s part of it, you know? If she’s carrying things to her room and deciding where they go…” Micah’s eyes lock on mine with an intensity I don’t know what to do with. There was a time when I always knew what he was thinking.
I don’t anymore.
He seems less angry than he did at the foundation, which is a start, I guess. But the hurt in his eyes, I know that feeling. I’ve lived with it for years. The realization that the person you thought was your world didn’t feel the same about you. I hate knowing I made him feel that way.
But why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to have a phone?
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I slide my chair back, unsure if we’re done talking, unsure if he wants me to leave or wants me to stay.
If there was any doubt as to the damage Julian has done to me, sitting here with Micah brought it all into focus.
Before I moved to Seattle, I never worried if he’d get mad if I stood at the wrong time, or apologized the wrong way, I just…
existed. I’ve been walking on eggshells since I stepped into The Pact, which has shown me how uncomfortable I am all the time.
Checking. Watching. Adjusting. Nothing I do is natural anymore.
Everything I do is a response to Julian. Everything.
Never again. I will never let someone dictate my life again.
“Tomorrow it is.” Micah nods, sliding his chair back until a thought strikes him. “Unless you need help packing tonight. I don’t have anything going on. If you need help that is.”
He frowns, like the thought of spending more time with me is upsetting.
“You’ve done enough for us already.” I resist the urge to place my hand on his arm. It bothers him when I touch him. For me, as years of resentment have slid away, all I want is to find myself in the last place I remember feeling safe—Micah’s arms. It’s like we’ve switched places.
Micah and I walk in awkward silence through The Pact, into a fresh September evening. Night has fallen and the moon is big and low, a crescent so bright it’s nearly white. If Nell were here, she’d reach for it, jumping like she could hook her fingers along the edge and zoom off into the sky.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I say as I reach my car. Micah grunts, then gives me a sad smile that doesn’t make sense on his face. His features were built for grinning, for laughing, not for serious discussions like this.
“Tomorrow it is.”
A couple weeks ago, he helped me through a panic attack, then kissed me like he never stopped loving me. Tonight, he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then drops his gaze and ambles away.
Why didn’t I try harder to get a hold of him?
When I get home, Nell and I pack our clothes into suitcases and load them into my car. We eat dinner with Grandma, and she makes me promise to remember her house is always available if we need it. She hugs me tighter than usual before bed, then again the next morning.
“You’re not alone, Ivy. Whether or not this thing with Micah works out, I’m always here.
In the meantime, I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines.
And if you happen to get a picture of you know who in his birthday suit, don’t be too shy to share.
” She gives me that crooked smile of hers and pats my cheeks, hugging Nell hard before we make the drive to Micah’s—a yellow three-bedroom home on the water.
I park in front of a two-car garage and kill the engine.
Nell unbuckles her seatbelt, then freezes when she notices I’m not moving. “What’s wrong, Mama?”
“Nothing. I’m great. This is good. Real good. Everything’s…good.”
“Then why aren’t you getting out of the car?”
Because I’m equal parts excited and scared to death. Because this feels like a terrible idea wrapped in a great idea and I have no clue how this is going to work. Because I don’t know how to tell you that Micah is your dad and I want to stop making stupid decisions and—
“I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”
“Because he looks at you funny too?”
I laugh because in a way, she’s right. I’m afraid Micah will never look like my Micah again.
As if on cue, he appears at the front door, raising a hand to shield his eyes in the sun. A black T-shirt stretches across meaty biceps and broad shoulders. A pair of cargo shorts are belted at a trim waist and his calves flex as he jogs down the steps.
“His muscles are big,” Nell says appreciatively. I’d bet money her mind is dressing him in Lycra, adding a cape, and hoping he’ll fly through the air at any minute, like any good superhero would.
“He’s a firefighter.” My mind flashes to the charity calendar and Micah’s bare, sweaty, sexy torso and I shake the images away, unbuckling my seatbelt and throwing open the door. “Come on, Nell Bell. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Micah meets us at the hood, smiling, friendly. The brooding, angry man from yesterday is nowhere to be found. “Where’s the truck?” He squints at the road behind me.
“What truck?” I ask, following his gaze over my shoulder.
“The moving truck.” His brow arches like the question should have been obvious.
And, in any other situation, it would have been.
“We didn’t need one.” I pop the trunk under Micah’s scowling gaze and present two suitcases and Nell’s book bag with a flourish. “A moving truck seemed like overkill. We’ve got this and the cot I was sleeping on at Grandma’s, since you said my room is currently an office.”
His dark eyes dart to mine, brows drawing together. “That’s it? Two bags and a cot? That’s all you have?”
He seems angry, though I don’t know why. Hands on hips. Jaws clenched. Sharp exhalation flaring his nostrils. My nerves fly off the handle. If Julian ever looked at me like that, I was in for a tirade, him staring coldly as he listed all the ways I’d let him down again.
But this isn’t Julian. It’s Micah. And things might be weird between us, but they will never be what I had in Seattle. I won’t let it get that bad again.
“We didn’t bring much with us when we left for the Keys and the fire devoured a lot of Nell’s toys.
” I shade my eyes to meet his gaze, ignoring the urge to apologize.
I am exhausted by the woman I’ve become.
Of feeling like every move I make is an inconvenience.
I will not apologize for nonsense anymore.
“This is all we’ve got,” I finish, hefting a bag with a smile.
After a tense second, Micah shakes away his angry expression, turning his attention to Nell. “It sounds like you were very brave the night of the fire.”
She squints as she looks up at him. “I basically ran screaming out of my room. The man who rescued Grandma? He was brave. He just ran in there, swooped her up, and carried her out. Mom telled me you’re a firefighter. Did you ever rescued someone before?”
Micah’s eyes cut my way and he flares his hands, looking unsure if he should tell Nell he’s the man who saved Grandma. I refuse to let him miss this chance to earn cool points with his daughter.
“This is the man who rescued Grandma.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help putting a hand on his arm. The jolt of familiarity is like a weighted blanket for my soul. This is Micah…not the man who abandoned me, but the boy I swore I’d always love. He pats my hand and steps away, putting distance between us and me in my place.
Nell’s eyes go wide. “That was you? You’re the guy who carried Grandma outta the fire?”
I can see it in her eyes. In her mind, Micah’s fully outfitted in a costume, and she’s found a new superhero to idolize.
My imagination happily jumps on the suggestion and does the same, painting him in a skintight outfit that hugs his muscular chest and shoulders, carving out the ridges of his abs and cupping his goods.
The image is breathtaking. Grandma would be proud.
“I was just doing my job.” Micah folds his arms over his chest, which only makes his pecs look bigger. “There were two other firefighters who stayed in your room and fought the fire plus the EMTs who gave you oxygen and made sure you weren’t hurt. They’re all pretty special too. Way more than me.”
Nell’s not having it. “Yeah, but you carried her out in your arms, then went right back inside, just like a movie! I even drew pictures of it and everyone in my class said you’re a hero, even Giuseppe DiSanto and he thinks he’s cooler than anyone, no matter what.”
Micah shoots me a smile as he reaches into the trunk and swings our bags onto his shoulder, Nell’s energy brightening his mood the way it does mine.
She chatters happily with him as he leads us up the steps and into the house.
The first floor is an open space, with a cook’s kitchen, a man’s entertainment system, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water.
“Woah…” Nell runs to the windows, pressing both hands and her whole face to the glass.
I whisper an apology to Micah, but he waves it away as his smile grows. “She’s pretty awesome,” he whispers in return.
“There’s a big deck thing out there! And a pool!” Nell turns, hopping and skipping in excitement. “I can’t wait to see my room.”
Micah grimaces. “Now see, the room might be more of a letdown. I thought you’d have more…” He runs a hand through his hair. “More girly stuff to decorate with.”
Well, hell. I probably should have warned him that “girly” is synonymous with “stupid” when it comes to Nell.