“Pretty much.” Micah’s eyes scanned the room without her realizing what she was doing—subconsciously looking for Josh. No sign of him.
Cameron wasn’t bad on the eyes. He had to be at least six foot four, judging by how he towered over her. He had kind eyes and a pleasant voice, but none of it mattered. Her life was a mess, emotionally and physically.
She wanted to grab hold of his arms, look him in the eye and tell him, You don’t want me. I would be no good for you. I can promise you that.
And that hurt.
Drew had ruined her by dying and leaving her to endure years of grief and pain, and by ruining all her best-laid plans and dreams.
Josh had ruined her, too, with the way he’d babied her all those years. Because of the attention he’d bestowed upon her and the affection he so easily gave, she’d never sought those things from anyone else. Therefore she’d never dated, never faced any of her issues, and most importantly, never healed.
She was of no use to anyone anymore. And it was all their fault.
* * *
Josh had no idea why he’d brought Taylor. She had called and asked what he was doing and on a whim he’d asked her if she wanted to come. But the moment Micah walked into the room, he knew he had made a huge mistake. What had he been thinking?
She’d strutted into the room wearing leather—leather!—leggings and high heels. Her black top dipped low in the front and he fought the urge to cover her with a coat. Her usually riotously curly hair, now straightened into submission, hung like silk around her shoulders and down her back.
Sabina and Jamie introduced themselves to Taylor, but Micah just gave a slight wave. He tried to read her eyes, tried to figure out what she was thinking, but failed.
She wasn’t wearing her glasses tonight, having traded them in for contacts. He liked the unobstructed view of her eyes but missed the glasses. They were more like the Micah he was used to. He preferred her hair in a ponytail and her nose buried in a book. He liked the sweatpants. He was comfortable around that Micah. He could be himself around her. Comfort was not a word that could be used to describe what he was feeling now, with this new version of Micah standing before him.
Leather!
Their gazes locked, her poker-face expression still giving nothing away. She turned abruptly and left the room. The firm set of his shoulders relaxed as she walked away.
Every time she was near, his guard went up. It was becoming tiresome, always trying to protect. Protect himself from falling victim to his desires and ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. Protect the promise he’d made to Drew to always take care of her, be the brother she’d never had, making her permanently off-limits. But even if he failed in all other areas, he would always work hard to protect Micah, even if that meant he had to keep her at a distance from himself.
He turned to find Taylor looking up at him. “You want something to drink?”
“You read my mind,” she purred and gave him a coquettish smile.
He headed toward the kitchen in search of refreshments, pushing his way past one too many suits. As he passed one doorway, she caught his eye. She was hard to miss. Micah stood off to the side, talking with a tall man in a suit. Her face was lit up with a smile as she laughed at something he said.
There was a huge part of him that wanted to storm into the room, knock the guy out, throw her over his shoulder and carry her away.
But the rational side told him to focus on getting the drinks he was sent to get. Micah was allowed to talk to men. She was allowed to laugh at their jokes. She was allowed to smile and flirt. She was allowed to do whatever she wanted.
But Mr. Tall Guy was not allowed to look down her shirt like he was doing.
Walk away. Just walk away.
Josh had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. And somehow he was able to walk away.
“Hey, Josh.” He looked up to see an old friend approaching just as he made it to the drink station.
They talked for several minutes, catching up and rehashing a few fond memories before promising to get together at some point. He spun around quickly to reach for a drink and collided with her.
Vibrant hair filled his vision. Soft, luscious curves brushed up against him. Her scent surrounded him, a mixture of a day at the beach and clean laundry—citrus and maybe coconut. It was the kind of scent that made him want to escape...with her.
“Sorry. That was clumsy of me. Did your drink spill?” He quickly apologized. She stood so close. Too close. His eyes took in her down-turned gaze, traveled past to the lip she was biting and even farther down to where her top dipped perilously low. His eager gaze took in the gentle swell of her breasts, the pale ivory expanse of divine skin...
You’re such a jackass.
Inwardly he cringed. Five minutes ago he’d wanted to kill a man for doing the very same thing he had just caught himself doing.
“No. It was empty.”
What was empty?
She avoided looking him in the eye, instead looking down at an empty cup.
Oh, the cup was empty. Made sense.
“Good.” Why did this have to be so awkward? It had never been like this before. It had always been easy breezy. His eyes took in the leather leggings painted on her long legs and the bright blue heels that made them look even longer.
That’s why. She had never dressed like this before.
She made a move to lean over again, brushing up against him as he did. “I just need to get to the soda. Can you hand it to me?”
The nerve in his neck twitched erratically as he clenched his jaw. She was going to be his undoing.
“Sure. Here you go,” he choked out.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
She poured her drink and handed the two-liter bottle back to him before walking away, her hips swaying seductively.
“Hey, Josh? What happened to my drink?” He looked up to see Taylor’s innocent face.
Good question.
Micah gazed at the letter in her hands. Drew had given it to her on their two-year anniversary along with a solitary white rose. She lightly grazed her fingertips over the hastily written words—I hope we’re together for a long, long time.
After leaving Hanna’s house, she’d felt an overwhelming sense of...guilt? It didn’t make any sense. Was it even possible to cheat on the ghost of a boyfriend past? Because that’s exactly what she felt she’d done.
She couldn’t get away from the new feelings she now had for Josh. The way she reacted to him, the type of thoughts she had about him.
Coming home to find the letter hadn’t helped. After she had cleaned out the box of memories she had placed the letter on her dresser, not sure where else to put it now that she had done away with the box.
She felt she was becoming insane even to herself. She really should go see someone about this. It was all getting out of control.
Closing her eyes, she brought forth images of Drew. She tried to imagine what he would look like now. She imagined a beautiful house where they would have lived. A fireplace was lit where they sat in the living room, curled up on the couch. Drew’s arm stretched across the back of cushions, beckoning her to curl up deeper into his embrace. She went willingly.
She looked up into his eyes, his cerulean